Vocab's Top Ten Moments at MovieCynics: #5 Press Screenings

For anyone out there that wants to consider yourself a movie reviewer (Remember, only pretentious dizzlebags call themselves film critics.), you really can't call yourself one until you've made your way past the pearly gates... in this case, you get your name on the list to get invited to press screenings.

            Now for those of you out there who are trying to rightfully earn the vaunted title of movie reviewer, let me dispel some of the myths out there about press screenings. First off, no matter how hard you work, Hollywood isn't going to come kissing your ass and saying, "Hey... you want access to these press screenings?" This is just never going to happen. If Hollywood were this innovative and forward thinking, then they wouldn't be making a fourth sequel in the Big Momma's House franchise or rebooting crap like Three Men and a Baby. (These things haven't happened, but just you wait. The Vocabulariast is one-part a-hole and three-parts prophet.)

            They are never going to notice you. In fact, I'm pretty sure Hollywood would be just fine not having any reviewers at all. This is why they guard their information so dearly. You see, getting on the list is near impossible... why? The information is guarded. Most of the movie critics I've met that actually attend these screenings are huge self-absorbed nerds with poor hygiene and inferiority complexes. Or they are the opposite... self-aggrandized metrosexuals who can't help but look at the world down their noses. Neither of these types of people are going to give you the information you need to get your little foot in the door.

            How did I score my proverbial golden ticket? Well, two things worked in my favor. #1... reviewing movies doesn't pay you jack. #2... I was making enough money to hire writers. This led to me posting ads on craigslist for writers, and I stumbled across this old burnout dude who had actually been writing reviews for years. Now, the fact that he had been doing this for years, and still needed the extra income my little website would provide ought to tell you something about this racket.

            I met him for a beer, we decided the gig wouldn't be right for either of us, and then we started to shoot the shit. As we talked, the subject of screenings came up, and lo and behold, this guy had the information I needed... namely, the contact information for a super-secret P.R. company that ran all of the screenings. All I had to do was contact this P.R. company and get my name on the list, and I would have access to Sony's screening reps, along with a couple of the other major film companies.

            Of course, in order to get the information, I had to swear myself to secrecy and keep his name out of it. Or was it her? I'm not saying. Smokescreen, bitches. Eventually, this kind dude shoots me the contact information, and I was on easy street from there.

            Actually, though it seemed that simple, I had to provide proof of my site's viability, its lofty traffic numbers, and give them my real name. Who the hell uses their real name? That's like asking to for a picture of my gear. Rude.

            My first free screening was awesome. Not because the movie was great or anything, but because it was confirmation that I had finally broken through. I was a movie reviewer... like legit. When I talked about my gig with others, I could say things like, "Yeah, I make some money, get free DVD's, and get into press screenings."

            The first free screening was for The Thing prequel, and I checked it out at Lloyd Center in Portland. The sucky thing about being allowed to get into press screenings is that you half to show up 45 minutes early if you want to guarantee yourself a seat. Then you check in with the P.R. rep, cross your fingers and hope they don't send you packing because they've never heard of you, and then you sit in your seat and avoid talking to all of the other critics. I'm not joking. They avoid each other like the plague. I get it. They were all pretty lame.

            I still remember how awesome I felt sitting in the back row as The Thing prequel began to play. Not even the abysmal CGI could bring me down. When the credits rolled, I popped up out of my seat, and went home, yawning because it was fucking late. The damn screening didn't start until 7 o'clock. After a full day's work, two hours of literally just waiting around outside the theater, and another hour of waiting inside the theater, I was pretty exhausted.

            That's the thing with these screenings. They set up so many arbitrary rules, that at any one time, you may only see a handful of critics at a movie. Let me give you an example. For genre films that people are generally excited to see, screenings were invariably at 7 o'clock, and you had to get there early because they were going to flood the theater with a group of theatergoers that I like to call "the free people." These people are loud, obnoxious, fairly trashy, and only really concerned with getting something for free. They talk loudly, buy one big tub of popcorn and share it around while drinking from free water cups. They all know each other because this is the only way they ever see movies. It doesn't matter what movie it is either. If it's free, they're ass in seat. The shit these people say is the type of stuff that you would collate into some lame post on Buzzfeed titled: 25 Dumb as Fuck Things Heard in a Movie Theater.

            So you get there. Sometimes you have to bag up your cell phone, sometimes you don't. You sit around for an hour, and then a horde of braying jackasses starts rushing into the theater and filling your mind with dumb. By the time the movie is over, you're so annoyed by their constant rustling and incessant gabbing that you can't help but think of newer, better ways to kill people.

            Then there is the glorious 12 o'clock showing. These were actually a better experience, but they were also totally awkward. These showings were generally reserved for "serious" movies, the type of movies that the movie studios thought were actually good. Rather than sit a bunch of dumbasses around you, they limited these screenings to movie reviewers only. Not so bad, right?

            Wrong. These movies were screened at 12 o'clock on a Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday, when most movie critics are actually working at their real jobs. If you wanted to attend one of these screenings, you had to pretty much skip out on work.

            Free screenings are not all they're cracked up to be. If you crack down and get thirsty or hungry, which is highly likely considering the amount of time you'll be waiting around, then you've defeated the whole purpose of the experience. One medium popcorn will make it just like you paid for the damn movie. You can't even get a jump on "non-movie reviewer" reviewers because you can't post your review until the movie is actually in theaters. Meanwhile Joe BlogJob can pirate a damn movie off the internet and have his review up two weeks before yours, thus securing valuable priority in Google's ridiculous search engines. I know... I used to do this.

            Still, I relish that first screening. To work so hard and finally attain one of the goals you set out for yourself is always a rewarding experience, even if you have to sit among a bunch of smelly trolls and people who steal soap and lotion from hotel rooms, which they probably won on a radio contest anyway.

How I Lost My Movie Critic Status

            Over the years, as I stopped making money off of MovieCynics, and began to care less and less about seeing movies. I just sort of stopped going to these screenings. They kept inviting me, but the idea of seeing something like The Grand Budapest Hotel... even for free, simply doesn't appeal to me anymore.

            My last screening came on the week before The Boxtrolls was released. We were getting ready to have our Portland screening of All Hell Breaks Loose in a couple of weeks, so I thought I'd just stroll over to the theater at noon, hand out some fliers to the "professionals," get some free publicity, and watch The Boxtrolls. It was actually a pretty good movie, but that's not the point.

            Once I got there, I was racked with nerves. Here were people I had seen off and on at various screenings for the last five years... and yet, I had never said a word to them, and they had never said a word to me. At a noon screening, when all the seats were open, critics would stroll in and sit generally about as far apart from anyone else as they could. These were not socialites.

            Anyway, as the critics would come strolling in (These were indeed critics, in every sense of the word.), I would hand them a flier, explain who I was, and see if I could score some much needed publicity for All Hell Breaks Loose.

            I've never seen such an awkward collection of people in my life. And suddenly, it dawned on me how Michael Cera had become so popular despite making movies that have no redeeming quality whatsoever. These movie reviewers were all bloated, hipster versions of Michael Cera. Of course they would love his movies. It was if I had walked into a mental asylum full of drooling idiots. Half of these mongos could barely put together a comprehensive sentence, despite my disarming charisma and easygoing charm.

            Of course, being the only not-white movie critic in the entire city might have had a hand in that as well. Half the people looked like they locked into a fight or flight situation as soon as they figured out I was addressing them. These are not the group of people anyone should be taking movie advice from. Every time I see that Rob Lowe commercial with the shy-pissers in it, I think of movie critics.

            Anyway, I hand out all of my fliers, the film rolls, and I get my ass out of there. After that, the invites stop coming. I can only guess, but I'm fairly sure one of these anti-social, bush-league, basement dwellers must have reported me for spreading my wares... and to top it all off, not a single one of these people bothered to spread the word about All Hell Breaks Loose. But you know what? I'm glad I no longer get invited to press screenings of I, Frankenstein or anything featuring Jesse Eisenberg. All is good.

You made it to the popcorn!