I think my favorite experiences were those brief years in the late 2010s where we’d get “delayed lives” of live concerts by the big anime idol groups. The first I saw was Love Live’s Aqours on the Happy Party Train tour, nearly four hours unsubtitled at 9 in the morning in Detroit (a two hour drive for me) and there were about 50 people there with light sticks and callbacks and it was a blast. I went back to the same theater twice for BanG Dream! delayed lives, Roselia’s one-hour Vier and Roselia and RAISE A SUILEN’s Rausch and Craziness. And then the pandemic happened and these delayed lives haven’t been back since.
That said, one theater experience that will always stay with me was in that same theater in Detroit for Madoka Magica Rebellion back in like 2013, I guess? The show sold out quickly and they added a second showing… nowadays, that’s the kind of thing that could safely run for a week. Anyways, the house was packed and I’ll never forget how the crowd that was utterly boisterous for the opening credits was stunned into silence by the twist ending. Like a lot of people, it took me days to process what had happened, so it’s like we were all in a collective state of shock.
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I'm glad so many people have fond memories of watching anime in theaters. Me? Unfortunately, I'm close to swearing theaters off altogether. Maybe it's just the coincidental bumbling of two different theaters, but I have not enjoyed my last three outings.
First was Suzume. Trouble reared its head early on when I noticed the film was not only subtitled, but captioned. That means that in addition to the translated dialogue, non-dialogue sounds like [birds chirping], [ground rumbles], and the ever-useless [♪ ♪] were present at the bottom of the screen. More than a decade of watching subtitled anime has trained me to immediately look to the bottom of the screen when text appears, so even though the captions were a different color, I found myself unable to look away. Instead of appreciating the beautiful art and animation, my gaze was repeatedly torn away to read completely unnecessary information like [girls giggling]. I can hear the girls giggling, you don't need to tell me that! This wasn't a hearing-impaired viewing, either! And after seeing how vibrant the colors of the art are in promotional trailers, I think the theater didn't completely dim the lights, because I remember everything seeming a bit washed out. Definitely regretted my purchase at the end of it all.
Next was Godzilla Minus One. This movie was loud. I know, I know, a giant monster destroying the city should be loud. But this was beyond loud. If people in the movie shouted, it was uncomfortably loud. Whenever Godzilla appeared, I had to put my fingers in my ears. One scene was so unfathomably loud that I was near the threshold of pain with my fingers already in my ears! Spending large portions of a movie with my fingers jammed in my ears and still somehow risking hearing loss is not my idea of a good time.
Finally, The Boy and the Heron. No big problems inside the room itself (aside from being interrupted by a fire alarm, but I can't blame the theater for that). No, our problem was next door. Our theater placed this screening of The Boy and the Heron, an oftentimes quiet and contemplative film, beside a showing of Renaissance: A Film by Beyoncé, a film full of concert performances of music. Many quiet moments were spoiled by R&B and pop music echoing in from the left side of the wall. "Where is my stepmother?" Mahito would ask. "She's resting in her room," one of the old ladies would answer. "...listening to Beyoncé," I would mentally append. You could have sworn that the granduncle had a musical leitmotif of Beyoncé with how often the two appeared together.
And all of that is just the shortcomings of the venues! There's still the weird person who kept flexing and extending their elbow during Suzume, a motion I could always see out of the corner of my eye and somehow often hear. Or the guys who would repeatedly coo "aww" and "so cute" whenever anything remotely cute happened in The Boy and the Heron (and from whom I think my friend caught the flu). Or the guy who kept loudly adjusting his drink straw during one of the handful of quiet scenes in Saving Private Ryan.
They haven't all been stinkers, but man, I could wait a while longer and pay less to have an on-average better experience at home. It increasingly feels not worth all the drawbacks for sometimes-better picture and audio.
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