Congress saves movie theaters!

“...The agreement includes over $284 billion for first and second forgivable PPP loans, expanded PPP eligibility for nonprofits and local newspapers, TV and radio broadcasters, key modifications to PPP to serve the smallest businesses and struggling non-profits and better assist independent restaurants, and includes $15 billion in dedicated funding for live venues, independent movie theaters, and cultural institutions. The agreement also includes $20 billion for targeted EIDL Grants which are critical to many smaller businesses on Main Street.” [emphasis added]

This has been a crappy year all around, but it’s certainly ending on a positive note.

Thoughts?

Loews JC to get $40M renovation!

...Under the new plan, Friends of the Loew’s will be involved in the renovation plans, and oversee community programming, while the commercial operator will be charged with finding national and international acts to perform at the 3,000-seat theater.

UPDATE 6.15: I had thought Friends of the Loews would have made a statement by now, but they haven’t yet, so I’ll chime in with my thoughts. First, all due credit for this victory, in a battle that had gone on at least since 2014, goes to Colin Egan and everyone at FoL for keeping this special place viable and functional for decades. They are the real heroes here.

FoL has said in the past the future of the Loews was as a non-profit venue that caters to the headliners as well as the local acts, so when I see statements regarding “national and international acts,” I got a bit concerned, so I hope they will publicly renew their commitment to this path soon, a plan which is in the city’s best interests as well as the theater’s. To his credit, mayor Steven Fulop specifically mentioned the diverse communities within JC in Thursday‘a press conference, so I remain hopeful for the moment. Also, I believe old movies will continue to have a place at the Loews, at an affordable price, that everyone can enjoy.

Fulop and JC would be wise to continue to emphasize the Loews’ convenient location across the street from the PATH train, only minutes from midtown Manhattan. While not the same thing, I believe lessons can and must be learned from the fustercluck that resulted from transportation from the Super Bowl at the Meadowlands a few years ago, and support mass transit during major events, such as a concert at the Loews.

Plus, I hope the Loews’ renewal will mean downtown JC’s renewal. I’ve walked around the area surrounding the theater; it’s not terrible, but it could be better—and “better” does not necessarily mean homogenized and made to look like everyplace else while stripping it of its cultural identity. There can and should be a balance.

And all of this, of course, is contingent on a solution to our Much Bigger Problem coming as soon as possible. Still, this news gives us a future to which we can look forward.

Requiem for the video store, part 4: Blockbuster

...Pick up. Drop off. It was, for many, a daily experience. Blockbuster made it easy for you, with mailbox-like units that you could deposit your used movies in like letters. You didn’t even have to get out of your car. You pulled up, rolled down your window…
And in writing this, I realize how absolutely ancient that must seem to a teenager.

It's true, there was a time, not that long ago, when Blockbuster Video stores were as ubiquitous as Starbucks cafes. Hard to believe that time has passed, but how can you compete with online streaming? Still, I never thought the day would come when BB would generate not only nostalgia, but sympathy.

BB as the underdog, the analog lone wolf struggling to survive in a digital wilderness? Under other circumstances, I might be more  sympathetic. Fact is, though, my history within video retail gives me a different perspective, because for many years, BB was the enemy.

I worked at three independent video stores from 1996-2003 (plus a six-month stretch at Tower Records in 1995, where I split time in the video and music departments), and one thing the customers at each indie had in common was their gratitude we weren't BB.

I'd hear it all the time. Maybe it was  because it was New York City, and we tend to get indie and foreign films before most places (and for a longer time), but I dealt with customers who demanded more than just mainstream Hollywood cinema — and BB didn't supply it as much or as often as we did.

That made a big difference in all three indie stores in which I worked, though in the end, BB won out through sheer strength in numbers. When I worked at the Third Avenue store, a BB opened on Second Avenue, on the same block as us, but I don't remember feeling seriously threatened. I believed we could compete with them, in large part, because so many of our customers hated BB and wanted nothing to do with them.

Oh, yeah, that's another thing: BB, like other national chain businesses, set up shop in locations where their (smaller) competition, like us, was already established, so that they could be top dog in time. They could afford to wait, too. Funny how none of the articles I've seen about the last BB standing mention little details like that.

And y'know, props to the Bend, Oregon BB for keeping their doors open this long and surviving in the age of Netflix, but as someone who actively worked against them for eight years, I can't forget the old days that easy. One day, sooner rather than later, the last Blockbuster Video will die, too... but the end will come far, far too late for me.

----------------
Previously:
part 1
part 2
part 3

The Oscars and the art vs. commerce debate

Okay, I read all about this lame new Oscar category for "Best Popular Film" or whatever it'll be called, and I've given it some thought. I get that the Academy and ABC felt they needed to do something to make the Oscars relevant again, and I get that it's called show business for a reason, but this was not the answer. Columns like this reflect my position well. That said, I wanna examine this from a more personal angle.

In my former life, within the comics industry, I had begun my activity at a time, the early 90s, when what was popular truly was mediocre at best. I was in college, and my classmates and I were frustrated at this because we were getting lessons in the fundamentals of art and comics storytelling from industry veterans who didn't fall prey to trends.

Movies like Black Panther would be
a shoo-in for this new Oscar category.

Some of us young turks worked within the system, at Marvel and DC, to help bring about change. Most of us, like me, worked from outside by self-publishing our work or hooking up with small press publishers.

I didn't want to compromise my art by being a slave to trends, but you can bet your ass I still wanted to make money. I believe in the 21st century, it's rare, though not impossible, to find creative people who don't want or expect compensation for their work, but much depends on the audience and what they (think they) want.

"Best Popular Film" could have
benefitted recent blockbusters like Avatar.

With movies, a lot of the time they settle for what's most easily available, true, but these days, it's not uncommon to see a popular indie film playing alongside the latest blockbuster at the multiplex. (Over the past few weeks, I've seen Three Identical Strangers playing in small town, three-screens-or-fewer cinemas.)

Does that mean we, the audience, have become conditioned to choose the popular over the unpopular? Probably. If TCM is on, I'd sooner watch a Jack Lemmon flick over some B-movie starring actors I've never heard of. If I'm in the supermarket, I'd sooner buy a familiar brand name product than a generic version of the same thing. I think it's an inherent aspect of consumerism: the product that advertises better sells better.

As I learned with comics, however, popular doesn't always equal better, a mentality I had adopted for years and have found difficult to shake. In the mid-90s, I watched more indie films, in part, because that's what my video store co-workers, whom I was trying to emulate, watched. They tended to scorn Hollywood and I copped that attitude too.

Will future films like the new Star Wars
films profit from this category?

Most moviegoers, though, aren't like that. If they were, films like Spotlight and Lady Bird and Won't You Be My Neighbor would each make $100 million — and it's not like these films are inaccessible, artsy-fartsy meditations for aesthetes.

The Academy continues to honor these "art" films with Oscars over the "commercial" ones, though, and while we may wish this false dichotomy didn't exist, it does — and not just within the film industry.

Can the playing field be leveled so that all films, large- and small-budgeted alike, compete as true equals? Online streaming could hold the key to the answer. It may mean tearing down the old distribution model, which would make me sad — I enjoy seeing a movie in a theater — but maybe that's what it'll take. In the meantime, I don't see the art versus commerce struggle changing much.

Incredibles 2

Incredibles 2
seen @ Movieworld, Douglaston, Queens NY

Superheroes are hot in Hollywood right now, but mostly if they come from Disney (Marvel) or Warner Bros. (DC). When Tinseltown tries to make original heroes, their track record so far has been spottier.

James Gunn made Super when he was an indie. The Uma Thurman comedy My Super Ex-Girlfriend barely made a dent at the box office and scored only a 50 at Metacritic. The Hollywood Reporter called it a "sour, joyless affair." The Will Smith vehicle Hancock, from my understanding, had a much better screenplay than the one which made the final cut. And the less said about Superhero Movie, the better.

So what does the Incredibles franchise do that makes it rise above the pretenders and compete with the Marvel and DC characters? It's from Pixar, for one thing; they simply understand storytelling better. Their success rate speaks for itself. Being computer animated doesn't hurt either.

Pixar, and writer-director Brad Bird, just don't settle for good enough. Incredibles 2 comes fourteen years after the original film, and this is sheepishly acknowledged in an intro to the film by Bird and stars Craig T. Nelson, Holly Hunter and Sam Jackson. (Is this a Disney thing now? Ava DuVernay did a similar intro for A Wrinkle in Time.)

In this Indiewire interview, though, Bird explains the deal. He describes an overheard phone conversation by the late Steve Jobs in which the former Pixar owner rejects getting a hot pop singer to sing an end credits song because he cared more about making a product for all time, not for the here and now:

...[Jobs] knew that stuff was still going to be looked at later if we did our job right. And I loved his long view because often there's something quick and cheap you can take advantage of to get heat at the moment. And he didn't care at all about that. And that was really inspiring. We're not making it just for now but for long into the future, for anyone who's interested in storytelling.

I2 picks up where the last flick left off (easy to do with an animated film), but alters the group dynamic. Elastigirl is put front and center (she spearheads a proactive campaign to reform the reputation of superheroes), while Mr. Incredible raises Violet, Dash and baby Jack-Jack. When the adults, Frozone included, get in trouble, it's the kids who come to the rescue.

Granted, I had a feeling who the villain might have been halfway into the story, but getting to the finish line was thrilling anyhow. Maybe the next time Hollywood tries to make brand new superheroes, they'll keep Bird and the Incredibles in mind.

In all likelihood, I2 will be the last movie I see at Movieworld before they close in a few weeks. I made sure to take a good look around: the movie posters and pictures of vintage film stars that dotted the box office and the walls; the cafe; the video games off to the side; the hub-like concession stand, etc. I really wanted popcorn, but I was told the salt was mixed in with the kernels. (Cinemart is the same way. A pattern?) It was okay, though.

I was more concerned with the large number of teenagers at this screening. For an afternoon show, it was fairly packed with them. I got a seat near the front, not caring about looking up. I wanted as little contact with them as possible, but surprise surprise, they behaved well during the movie.

To play devil's advocate for a minute: the mall above MW totally looked threadbare without Macy's and with Toys R Us on its last legs. The huge parking lot had enough room to hold a soccer game, there were so few cars. The Modell's was open, but it didn't seem like it. Only Burger King looked active.

I understand the landlord wanting to bring in new business here. If it was a choice between saving the mall by vacating MW or keeping MW but watching the mall wither away, I would not want to have made that decision. The issue, though, is whether or not Lowes really needs the MW space in addition to the former Macy's site. The landlord believes so.

Not much more to say. I'm glad MW was around long enough for me to enjoy it.

T-Men

The 1947 Blogathon is exactly what it says on the tin, hosted by Speakeasy and Shadows & Satin. For a complete list of participating bloggers, visit the link at S&S.

T-Men
YouTube viewing

T-Men continues my foray into the film career of director Anthony Mann. You may remember my post earlier this year on Raw Deal and, much earlier, Bend of the River. I think what I like about Mann's movies is the direct approach he took with his stories. He didn't fool around with too much in the way of subplots or characterization, but that may have been a by-product of the genres he worked in - crime and westerns.

This one's a "true crime" story about undercover treasury agents busting up a counterfeiting ring. Watching this, I was reminded a little bit of the old crime comics from the same period of time, such as Crime Does Not Pay and the EC Comics such as Crime SuspenStories and Crime Patrol. These and other genre titles were the medium's equivalent of pre-code films; they were known for pushing the boundaries of what was considered acceptable in comics before the moral watchdogs of society stepped in and forced the industry to adopt their own version of the Hays Code. 

T-Men, like many of those true crime comics, particularly Crime Does Not Pay, takes an authoritative approach to its story. It begins with an introduction by an actual former Treasury Department bigwig who explains the real life case this film is based on, drawing comparisons to the Al Capone case, and then a Naked City-type narrator takes over for the rest of the film. Dennis O'Keefe, who was the bad guy in Raw Deal, is the good guy here. His tough guy persona kinda reminds me a bit of Sterling Hayden or even William Holden - a very no-nonsense type who never descends into camp.

T-Men is quite dark visually. Even the interiors in places like hotel rooms and fancy apartments are shrouded in menacing shadow at times. The cinematographer was named John Alton, who worked with Mann on Raw Deal (I noted some of the clever compositions in that film) and other movies of his, and would go on to share an Oscar win for his work on An American in Paris. He also worked on Father of the Bride, The Brothers Karamazov, Elmer Gantry and The Birdman of Alcatraz, among many others.

I don't know how big a problem counterfeiting is today, but I remember it was something I was taught to be cognizant of, at the least, when I worked in retail. We'd have one of those special pens that you had to use to mark the big bills to test the paper, and we'd have to hold the big bills up to the light to look for a certain strip woven into the paper, things like that. And of course, there'd always be one dumbass customer who'd say "Oh, yeah, it's real, I made it myself!" or something like that.

Anyway, this is another cool movie from Anthony Mann. Now I gotta get back into his westerns...

-----------------
Other films from 1947:
The Secret Life of Walter Mitty
Miracle on 34th Street
Lady in the Lake
Dark Passage
Nightmare Alley

What if more movie theaters were non-profit?

The caretakers of the Loew's Jersey Theater think it has
a future as a multimedia, non-profit venue. 

Weeks ago, the Center Cinema theater in Sunnyside closed down. It wasn't the greatest of movie theaters, and I have no fond memories of it from my childhood (or my adulthood, for that matter), but it was local, a neighborhood theater still trying to compete against the AMCs and Regals of the world, and it was part of a number of theaters in Queens and Nassau County over the past five years that I've seen bite the dust.

I accept that this is the way of the world. Nothing lasts forever, and theaters like the Jackson, as much as they may be cherished by people like me as touchstones of our youth, cannot continue to get by on nostalgia and warm fuzzy feelings, especially when the corporate theater chains will have the edge 99 times out of 100. Still, seeing more neighborhood theaters go under lately is disturbing, and not just here in Queens: ask the Bronx how much they'd like more theaters.

I thought about possible solutions, and then I remembered a bit of wisdom from another neighborhood theater fighting to stay alive: the Loew's Jersey Theater in Jersey City. The heart of their struggle involves a lease between Friends of the Loew's (FOL), the volunteer group that has kept the theater up and running, and Jersey City, and whether or not the city has lived up to the terms of the lease in order to help preserve the movie palace. 

Jersey City wants to bring in national, commercial promoters like Live Nation to run the Loew's so that they can attract big concerts, but FOL wants to keep it local, where big concerts would be one facet of a larger, multimedia plan, which would include film. The difference, they say, is in making the Loew's non-profit:

...Why non-profit? Google “Live Nation” and “AEG” and look at the schedules of theatres they run. You won’t see a lot of the kinds of programming in addition to major concerts that most people agree the Loew’s should have: local arts, community-centered, family, ethnic, affordable, film. That’s because for profit theatres are run by commercial promoters who can only worry about one thing: Making the most money for owners and shareholders. They have no reason to want to do more. 

It would be presumptuous to assume that for profit management will suddenly guarantee of [sic] a lot of concerts at the Loew’s Jersey Theatre. Promoters have been known to want to take over a venue not so much to use it but to keep potential competitors out. 

Friends of the Loew’s has always planned to work with major promoters to bring in big shows, but [to] put the income earned back into other programming along with donations and grants. 

That’s what all those other non-profit managed theatres do, and that [sic] what FOL and Jersey City are supposed to be doing in partnership of the Loew’s, per the terms of our lease.

The Colonial in Phoenixville, PA, is one of several
examples of successful non-profit theaters
in Brian Real's thesis.

In 2008, a University of Maryland Film Studies graduate assistant by the name of Brian Real wrote a thesis while he was at Johns Hopkins University, getting his Master of Arts in Communication, about turning historic movie theaters into non-profits. In his paper, he points out how local, urban-based movie theaters have always relied on community support from as far back as the early days of the film exhibition industry; he provides case studies of struggling theaters reborn as non-profits; he emphasizes the role of local businesses and local government in preserving the theaters, as well as the ways the community took a direct hand in re-shaping the theaters; and he shows the results. 

While he acknowledges the value of film theaters as performing arts centers, like what FOL wants to do with the Loew's, his emphasis is on film theaters which remained (primarily) film theaters, through the non-profit path: 

...All of the movie theatres in this sample followed a non-profit structure that allowed them to remain financially stable. Non-profit status allowed them to receive grants from governments, foundations, and businesses that are not available to for-profit institutions. These theatres also offered tax-deductible memberships to their patrons. While for-profit theatres could offer membership programs with similar patron benefits, these memberships would not be tax deductible. Additionally, the groups in this sample concentrated their efforts on publicizing their membership programs and explaining why their theatres function as non-profits.

It's a must-read if you've got a half hour or so.

Here within the five boroughs, we have the Film Forum as the most successful example of a non-profit film theater, one that has been a Manhattan institution for over forty years by specializing in independent and foreign cinema, as well as the classics. While Hollywood movies will always dominate the marketplace, there will also always be a market for alternative cinema, in small towns as well as big cities, and it's a format that works well for non-profit theaters.

Reading about this has, I admit, got me wondering if I could apply it to bring back a theater like, say, the Jackson. I'd have to give it some serious thought... and I would definitely have to bring in some friends... Worth thinking about.

---------------------
Related:
My dream movie theater

Frank Capra

Frank Capra always struck me as one of those directors who were almost too good to be true. His films were polemics, coming from a specific point-of-view, and yeah, sometimes they were preachy - I don't think one could dispute that - but they were products of their time as well, a time of tremendous economic hardship followed by a period of world war.

Capra was the perfect filmmaker for the New Deal era of President Franklin Roosevelt. FDR entered the White House during the heart of the Great Depression and he brought hope to millions of Americans in desperate need of money, jobs, food and shelter. I don't think it's much of a stretch to say that Capra's films fed off of this climate. Look at some of his common themes:

- The American Dream. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is the obvious example, but throughout a number of his films, he was very big on extolling the ideal of making it in America, no matter where you come from. Capra himself emigrated to the US from Sicily when he was five and he never forgot the experience of traveling by boat with other immigrants. He graduated high school and went to college against the advice of his parents, who insisted he start working instead, and he enlisted in World War 1 even though he wasn't a naturalized US citizen at the time. This was a guy who really believed in America as the land of opportunity, and the success he achieved in Hollywood allowed him to help his country out again during World War 2, when he not only enlisted again (this time with the rank of major), but he put together a series of films, called Why We Fight, to explain the American soldier's role in the conflict.

- Class warfare. Pitting rich against poor, turning rich people poor (as in It Happened One Night) and poor people rich (as in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town), is a Capra staple, and it's easy to guess who he favored. There's a scene in Mr. Deeds where an unemployed man, a victim of the Depression, tries to assassinate Deeds because he sees him as frivolous and shallow, a man who spends his wealth on trivial things like feeding donuts to horses, not realizing, perhaps, that Deeds is still new to his wealth and is just having fun. It's an eye-opening moment for Deeds, who eventually decides to help out others like this man. It's a sobering jolt of reality in what has been to that point a fairly light comedy.

- The worth of the individual. Related to class warfare, Capra's heroes are their most heroic when the odds are steeped heavily against them and they have to stand alone - but it turns out they're not really alone in the end. As Jeff Smith engages in his epic filibuster with the Senate, Taylor undermines him by spreading lies about him in his home state, but wait! Here come the Boy Rangers to the rescue, handing out leaflets letting people know about the fight Smith is waging to defeat Senator Paine's bill. Smith's lone stand inspires others because of who he is and what he's fighting for. George Bailey doesn't think his life accounts for a great deal until he sees what things would've been like without him. Longfellow Deeds is afraid to stand up for himself when his sanity is called into question because his actions have been misconstrued, but his friends urge him to speak out because of the example he has set and what it has meant to them.

- The value of small towns. It's a Wonderful Life's Bedford Falls resonated with so many people, in part, because of its verisimilitude. Whether or not you believe that Seneca Falls, NY served as inspiration for the fictitious town, Capra had a great amount of detail put into its creation, including planting 20 full-grown oak trees, outfitting a drugstore with real products, and having pigeons, cats and dogs roam the set. The Mandrake Falls inhabitants of Mr. Deeds are befuddling to the visitors from New York, but we're clearly meant to sympathize with them. Even the Brooklyn of Arsenic and Old Lace resembles a small town, if one ignores the Brooklyn Bridge in the background.

- The possibility of a better world. Lost Horizon takes place in a secret utopian community hidden from the rest of humanity. The ersatz John Doe, created on a whim, inspires a real movement in which people all over America strive to be better neighbors. The mirror-universe Bedford Falls is everything the real Bedford Falls is not, and it makes George realize how good he has had it all along. 

Kindness and decency and fairness in an unjust world may come across in films like these as "Capra-corn," but he believed in it enough to return to it time and again. This quote attributed to Capra probably says it all, in the end: "My films must let every man, woman, and child know that God loves them, that I love them, and that peace and salvation will become a reality only when they all learn to love each other."

Next: Bernard Herrmann

----------------------
Films by Frank Capra:
Mr. Deeds Goes to Town

Previously:
Jack Lemmon
Jean Arthur
Edward G. Robinson
Rita Moreno

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)
seen @ Herald Square Plaza, New York NY
11.22.13

I don't remember my family shopping at Macy's a lot while growing up. I definitely remember going to Alexander's and JC Penney and Sears, but I don't remember going to Macy's, either at Herald Square in Manhattan or anywhere else. There is at least one Macy's here in Queens, near (but not part of) the Queens Center Mall.

Department store shopping could be fun as a kid, but a lot of the time, my mother would pick out stuff from the store catalog, like Sears, and order things like clothes through the mail. She would let me go through the catalog and identify whatever shirts or sneakers or pants struck my fancy. Sometimes she'd get the wrong size, other times I decided I didn't like the item as much as I thought I did, for whatever reason. Looking back, I tended to get a lot of dorky clothes this way, and a lot of the time, it was my own fault.

I don't remember which of my toys came from department stores. I remember going to children's shops like Child World and getting toys and clothes there. There was an Alexander's in Flushing that I'd go to for toys, school supplies, and little rinky-dink trinkets. I seem to recall hitting their gumball machines for prizes fairly often.

Of course, I associate department stores with my childhood because nowadays, it's all about Amazon and similar online websites. Lots of the department stores I remember shopping at as a kid are gone now. I go to sporting goods stores like Modell's for my clothes and the only time I go out of my way to get toys now is if they come out of my cereal box.

I popped into the Macy's at Herald Square recently. I forget what I was doing there; I might have been killing time waiting for some other appointment, but I hadn't been in there in a long time, and I was just curious as to what it looked like now. They still have the wooden escalators, and many of the old facades and door frames are still intact. The building has held up remarkably well. Regardless, I rarely do any shopping in Manhattan anyway. Whatever it is I need, chances are good I can get it cheaper in Queens.

So the original Miracle on 34th Street, as we all know, is set in and around Macy's at Herald Square, and last Friday, Turner Classic Movies (TCM), as part of their 20th anniversary celebration, screened the film in the relatively new pedestrian plaza right outside Macy's. They actually ran it all day and into the night. Host Robert Osbourne was there to introduce the evening showing; that's the one I went to. It was my first time seeing the man himself in person. He looks the same as he does on TV. Maybe a bit taller.

TCM had a sweet set-up. The plaza covers a substantial amount of real estate between 35th Street to the north and 33rd Street to the south, where Broadway and Sixth Avenue intersect. (It's hard to describe what it looks like in words, so that's why I took pictures. Look for them on my WSW Facebook page). Basically, though, there was a truck with a giant video screen high up on a pole, at the 34th Street end of the plaza, and love seats, sofas and even a rocking chair that TCM provided in addition to the chairs and tables normally present. They had a food truck in the back, along with one of their brand new tour buses. (If you don't know about that, read this.)

A brief word about TCM: I watch it a lot more now, due to the direct and pervasive influence of my classic film blogger friends. It is without question an excellent resource for old movies; the fact that they're commercial-free makes watching it a joy. (Seriously: don't you HATE the way some networks, like AMC, jump into commercials without easing you into it at least? It can be so jarring to finish watching a quiet scene and then all of a sudden, BAM! a car commercial, which is always louder. Hate it!) I'm not as fanatical a viewer of TCM as some, but I'll watch it if there's something good on - often times, for the blog, but not always. The TCM Film Festival looks like a lot of fun, from what I've read about it; I'd love to go one day. And that's about it. 

The Herald Square plaza, like the Times Square plaza and others around the five boroughs, are relatively recent additions to the New York landscape, built for the express purpose of calming traffic and making it easier for pedestrians and bicyclists to get around. In a televised debate before the November election, Mayor-elect Bill DeBlasio made a curious statement in which he said that "the jury's out" on whether or not the Times Square and Herald Square plazas were of value, a statement which completely ignores all the evidence that conclusively proves otherwise. This is especially troubling given that he has put forth a plan for the city in which the goal is to eliminate all traffic fatalities.

If DeBlasio had been in Herald Square last Friday, he would have had ample reason to retract his statement. We lucked out on the weather, for one thing; it was cool, but not cold. I took my coat off during the screening and felt fine the whole time. Also, the love seats and chairs made the screening inviting enough, but there were also dozens of other people standing around outside Macy's, taking in the movie or buying snacks from the food truck. It was a comfortable, welcoming atmosphere, in an environment that didn't even exist five years ago, and could not have existed without the commitment made by the city, under Mayor Bloomberg and transportation commissioner Janette Sadik-Khan, to rethink how we use our streets. I really hope our new mayor will continue in that tradition, because projects like the Herald Square plaza are nothing but good for New York.

As for the movie itself, well, it is far and away my favorite Christmas movie of all time. It's a clever story, well told, that doesn't fall prey to easy sentimentalism and holiday-infused treacle even though it very easily could. It makes good use of the location shots in and around Herald Square - at times, there would be an exterior shot of Macy's and I'd turn my head and look at the real Macy's to the right of me, and marvel at the changes between then and now. And Edmund Gwenn will totally make you believe that Santa Claus is real. This is not just a great holiday movie, it's a great movie, period.

One of the things that Gwenn's character rails against is the commercialism of the holidays, which leads, of course, to his idea of sending customers to the competition if Macy's didn't have an item, an idea quickly adopted by the department store as a whole. It's Black Friday as I write this, a concept which I'm sure didn't exist back in 1947, but in recent years, the shopping event has leaked over into late Thursday, Thanksgiving... and according to this Huffington Post article, Macy's at Herald Square, the same place depicted in Miracle as a business that put people over profits, joined in the "fun":

..."WOOOOOOOOOOOO!" come the screams as shoppers jockey for positions. First they must make it through the heavy outer doors, as security personnel loom over the scene, and then through a second logjam at the inner doors. Finally, they enter the media funnel, and brave photographers step into the flow of traffic, cameras flashing like strobes. Phones thrust in the air record the scene and the shoppers take in the attention, waving to reporters and howling all the way.... 

Michael Kors and Coach, right up front, fill up in a flash and the crowd begins to spread to every corner of the sales floor. A girl bolts by me, hand firmly grasped around her friend's wrist as she drags her toward Michael Kors, gaze fixated on a red tote. "Hurry up!" she squeals as her friend stumbles on the leg of a table.

This was on Thanksgiving night, friends and neighbors.

I don't know what to make of this, especially in a time where the disparity between the rich and the poor in America is wider than it has ever been. I know this wasn't the main theme of the movie, but I think it's certainly worth examining. We pay lip service to the holiday season as a time of selflessness and generosity, but we're still greedy bastards at heart, and the lessons taught by a movie as timeless as Miracle remain unlearned over sixty years later. So, I dunno. I think in the end, we get exactly what we deserve. Sorry, I realize this is a depressing way to talk about such an uplifting movie.

Once again, look for my pics from the event on the WSW Facebook page.