GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #559: THE FILMWALKS

Theater no more.

You may have noticed that a friend of mine, Rob Tannahill, has been doing readings of my work and posting them to YouTube. I've known him for many years. Holy shit, I think it's been 30 years. Anyway, he started up a blog recently, and it's pretty good. However, I think you should read this one before continuing here.

So yeah. I'm Bubba. And I remember Glam Kid, though I have no idea what he's been up to. I'm pretty sure I haven't seen him since high school. And I remember that walk, although I'm pretty sure we didn't see Wayne's World. I remember that night specifically because on the walk back to Rob's, Glam Kid had to take a piss behind what I think was a White Hen back then. As Rob and I waited, a stranger came up to us with a lost dog poster. He asked us if we'd seen a Rottweiler, which we had not. When Glam Kid came back it was in a slight panic because he'd heard our conversation, and as he stood by a dumpster with his dick in his hand, all he could think about was a Rottweiler running at him in the darkness and biting his junk off.

There were two Hillside theaters, and neither of them are still there. Oddly, they're both churches now. Rob's thinking of Hillside Square Theater, and you can see the church that's there now in the picture above. And the nearby office buildings he mentions didn't become office buildings. There's an old folks home there now, but the weed smoking and the ghost stories are accurate.

Oak Brook also had two theaters back then, but neither one of them is there anymore. Even weirder, there are two theaters there now, neither where the old ones were.

The wilderness we walked through to get to Oak Brook.

Rob's talking about Harger Road. It's a shame that it's no longer the wilderness it was back then. There's a forest preserve nearby where I go to read sometimes, but a lot of the woods we walked through on that road are gone, replaced by homes. There's even a home where you have to cross a bridge to get to it. It's technically not a moat, but if I lived there, it would be a moat. Luckily there is a small stretch of woods still there, and I occasionally drive down there if I'm feeling nostalgic.

I remember one winter night when we went back there and saw the flashing lights of a couple of police cars. Rob got super paranoid, and I had yet to learn a healthy fear of the cops. They were not there looking for teenagers to hassle, though. A car had skidded on the ice so badly it had flipped over and was on its side. The cops were too busy with real shit to bother us that night.

I do remember the night of Se7en very clearly, though. I know exactly why he tried the running jump. Even back then it was very difficult for a horror movie to get to me. Very few of them do. But the Sloth scene in Se7en did the trick, and Rob was very pleased that something had finally got to me. He wanted to run and do a pirouette around an old fashioned street light near a bench in sort of a victory move, like he was in Singin' in the Rain or something, and that's when he tripped and fell. Much hilarity ensued.

Although he does exaggerate my fame maybe more than a little. Having said that, though, I would have never imagined, at that age, that I'd be in the position I'm in now, and that is very cool. People read my books. Strangers read my books, which is even more surprising. A few name horror authors have read my books, which I think is the most impressive thing of all.

But even if those places are gone, I'm certain that he's right. Our ghosts cavort in those places, and the people who live there have no idea. Unless they catch a whiff of Rob's weed . . .

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #80: RESERVED SEATING

Whenever I go to see a movie in the theater, I like to go to a matinee at the York in Elmhurst. It's cheap, and it's close to home. The only problem is, it sometimes doesn't get the movies that I really want to see, like TUSK or THE DROP. In those cases, I tend to head off to the Marcus theater in Addison, because I can't stand the super-expensive AMC in Yorktown, and those are my only other options.


I hadn't gone to the Marcus in a while, but this month I've gone out there twice, and they had a mighty unusual change recently: apparently, they don't have regular seating anymore. They have reserved seating, and all the chairs are wide recliners.


At first, I hated it. It seemed silly to want reserved seats for a movie, and who needs recliners? Are they trying to get me to fall asleep at the show? More so, I'm shocked that Hollywood is OK with this, considering how this cuts down on a theater's capacity to hold people. How would something like this work out for the opening night of, say, the new STAR WARS movie, when it comes out? They can only fit maybe fifty people in there, whereas before they could fit a lot more. It doesn't make much sense.


When I saw TUSK, I didn't like the seating arrangement. But when I saw THE DROP, I kind of didn't mind it. I'm a fat guy, but I'm not a whale. I can fit comfortably in a regular theater seat. (I'd say I can fit comfortably in a seat on a plane, but I'm also a tall guy, so I don't have the leg room to make me comfortable.) The new theater recliners were pretty wide. Plus every pairing has an armrest that comes up, so if I brought a lady friend, we could act like we were on a couch instead of at a movie theater.


It was kind of nice to put my feet up. And put my arms behind my head. And maybe roll around a bit if one of my ass cheeks starts getting numb.


All right, I like it now. I'm cool with it. It won't make me go out to Addison every time I want to see a movie, but if I had to make the trek, that's fine.


One more thing: both shows I went to the Marcus for had almost no audience. I found that pretty bothersome. Both times, there were me and two other people. Yes, they were matinees, but attendance shouldn't be THAT bad. TUSK is a Kevin Smith movie, and Smith has a rabid following. There should have been more people in the audience. THE DROP is based on a Dennis Lehane novel, and his books are adapted by the likes of Clint Eastwood and Martin Scorsese, and they contain major star power. This one has Tom Hardy, who is probably the greatest new actor we have, in addition to the final performance of Tony Soprano himself, the late James Gandolfini. There is no possible way that such a film would have an audience of three, even at a matinee.


That's disappointing. I know that movies on the big screen are a fading part of the experience of being a human being, and it will be a shame when that's gone. There is a certain excitement that comes with the ritual of buying a ticket, getting popcorn, and experiencing a movie with an enormous crowd of people. I remember when I saw SE7EN in the theaters, and I heard people responding--with genuine shock--to the scene with the Sloth victim.


There is no replicating that experience.