One of my favorite movies of 2005 is now available on DVD. I became so enamored with 51 Birch Street after I saw it at SXSW 2005, that Spout hosted a grassroots screening to a packed theater near my house.

51 Birch Street is a little documentary made by Doug Block about his parents. He’s the kid in the family who makes movies, and–much like me–he’s volunteered to cover all family events. Then his mom dies and he keeps his camera with him as a way to make conversation with his old man. His camera winds up seeing more than he ever expected, capturing what looks like a tea cup filled to the brim with tornado. It’s a small story of your average American family having average problems that quake with cataclysmic force when the truth rises. It’s a pitch perfect telling of how–no matter where you are–family is a black hole always pulling you back to the core.

Apparently there’s a “huge trend” in outdoor movie viewing equipment, while some of us are still trying to catch up (ie: save up) for a proper indoor setup.

The appeal of watching movies outdoors is kind of odd, when you think about it–the great outdoors really doesn’t provide the ideal movie-watching conditions. But the appeal is also very real. A big part of the appeal is driven by nostalgia, especially if you grew up in the 70s going to drive-in movie theaters with your parents, who didn’t have the money to hire a sitter. My brother and I would wear our pajamas, eat some home-popped popcorn out of a paper grocery sack, then fall asleep in the back of the station wagon while our parents had their “date.” I still love that image in my head of all those cars lined up in a field, facing a huge screen.

There’s also something novel about watching movies outdoors, especially now, when drive-in theaters are few and far between. Watching a movie outside with a bunch of people is somehow a very festive, community-building experience. I remember watching Pittsburgh on one of those cool inflatable screens with a huge crowd on the opening night of the 2006 Waterfront Film Festival. I also think fondly of the night I sat on a friend’s front porch watching a horror film projected on a sheet one Halloween night. Both nights I remember being chilly and slightly uncomfortable. I remember the screen quality, and/or the sound quality, being less than stellar. But I remember feeling extremely content.

There’s something “for-the-masses” about outdoor entertainment. Anyone passing by can participate, on some level. You don’t have to be invited in, you don’t have to pay for the right to watch and listen for a while. It’s like theater or music performed on the street or in the town square. I imagine it’s what many are drawn to when they organize film series in parks (which are also growing in popularity).

But this “huge trend” that I read about last week in a New York Times article (“The Drive-in Without the Drive”), seems like something quite different. Imagine a 65-inch screen TV permanently installed by the side of an 80-foot pool. Think systems that, with sound and everything else involved, can run from the tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. This paragraph from the NYT article will give you a taste of what we’re talking about:

Speak to the integrators and you see a backyard future in which one might never be forced to sit in a tiresome garden and sniff a rose again: Drop-down motorized screens hidden under the eaves; lots of little speakers all over the property (because multiple speakers on low volume create less spillover noise than two big speakers on loud); tiny speakers that look like lights in the trees; speakers in the pool, so that you need not miss Barry Bonds breaking the home run record when your head dips into the water.

Well, that’s novel for sure. But nostalgic? For the masses? Community-building? Yes, I’m old-fashioned. And it sounds pretty sad to me. When you have this whole setup permanently in your yard (or should I say “on your grounds?”) can you really ever just go outside to enjoy being outside? To maybe grown some vegetables in your garden? To play with your kids or your dog? To sit in the shade and read a good book? The ironic thing is that after spending so much money to transform our outdoor spaces into indoor spaces, will people start to complain about the “outdoors” being outdoors? The mosquitoes, the heat and humidity the unexpected storm and bird poo on the screen might very well end up driving people back inside. (And if I was their neighbor, I’d probably be glad.)

Even if my budget didn’t dictate my choice, I think I’d take the borrowed projector and the sheet set up, providing a novel, nostalgic night or two of fun a year.

Our regular guest writer, Dodd (moviedodd at spout.com), tells us what’s the latest in movie rating news, and shares his mixed feelings about the proposed changes. Dodd is finishing up a Master’s degree in Film Studies at Ohio University.

Recently, there has been a lot of discussion about the current film rating system implemented by the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA). Filmmakers have raised hell about it all on their own for the past few years, but now the documentary This Film Is Not Yet Rated has served as an expose on the selective standards of MPAA members. The film seems to have had an affect already. Since its release, MPAA head honcho Dan Glickman has admitted to the organization’s vague guidelines for what sets an R picture apart from an NC-17 one, and that proper actions would be taken to fix that problem.

It seems that Glickman was not just throwing words around for publicity purposes. According to a recent Variety article, Dan Glickman has announced that the MPAA is developing a “hard R” rating, which is not to be confused with the original “soft R.” In other words, films like Little Miss Sunshine, with its occasional F-bomb and sex joke, will be branded with a regular R. However, movies with blood-spurting decapitations, hardcore sex scenes, and f**k thrown into every sentence will be awarded the new, hard R rating.

Not only will there be a new R-rating, but the NC-17 rating may be eliminated. The hardcore rating limits film distribution and advertising on television, so the organization wishes to lump anything that is extremely graphic in nature under the new hard R-rating, with hopes that audiences, exhibitors, and advertisers will embrace it more than the much-feared NC-17.

I feel a little torn on this issue. Apparently, the new hard R-rating is the result of parents complaining that their children are being exposed to graphic content in R films. First off, the film is rated R, which means that the content is not appropriate for those under 17. Parents who choose to allow minors to watch these films have been warned to be cautious. Secondly, R-ratings currently contain little descriptions indicting the nature of the content–anything from drug use to angry sex to graphic conversations. Finally, if these descriptors prove to be too vague, there is a wealth of information about the graphic content of movies on the Internet, from movie reviews to the MPAA’s website to Yahoo’s Movie Mom. Therefore, my question is whether or not a new R-rating will stop parents from complaining. Teens will be teens, and they will always figure out ways to see hardcore content. While the rating system is useful, it will never magically babysit kids.

On the other hand, I am happy to see the elimination of the NC-17 system. Yes, it can be affiliated with the cult disaster known only as Showgirls, but the rating has also sunk potential pictures like a rock for miniscule details. It has also locked its sights on unconventional sex rather than violence. It will be nice to see art house gems such as Bad Education not being ostracized like a sleazy snuff film.

What do you think? Does the MPAA need a new R categorization, or will people complain about it anyway? Are you ready to see NC-17 get tossed aside, or does it still serve a useful purpose?

So apparently Hollywood is more worried than ever about the future of movies. Kids everywhere are increasingly ignoring traditional forms of entertainment–no big surprise–and have increasingly short attention spans–again, no big surprise. The recent worry was boosted by the emergence of special camps in China for kids who are too addicted to the Internet. Many articles and posts have been written on this topic lately, including one in Variety last month, “Invasion of the Techie Tots.”

I have kids, their friends are around a lot, and I find it a bit difficult to believe that we’re reaching the end of an era. Can you imagine–children not captivated by movies? Sure, there’s only so much Hollywood can do to protect itself (and the realist in me assumes they aren’t going about it right, anyway), so parents have to get involved. But kids are kids. They always have had and always will have a built-in sense of wonder. They’re captivated, creative, sponges. They’re made that way, and as far as I know, the way kids are made hasn’t changed even as new technologies and modes of entertainment have been developed. It seems like in order to dull those inbred characteristics of wonder, you really have to lock a kid in a room on a daily basis with a computer and video games and an iPod Video.

But most kids aren’t raised in that grim of a setting. And giving them some positive influence isn’t really that much work. All any kid really needs is a bit of balance (sorry, you can’t play video games all afternoon), some encouragement (let’s finish this book before we start something else), and exposure to good books, music and movies. Her amazing imagination will do the rest.

A Wall Street Journal article over the weekend by Joe Morgenstern, titled “YouTube Youth,” summed up my thoughts rather nicely. I’ll end with this:

Market forces and the inexorable march of technology will determine what’s going to be seen on what sorts of screens in what settings. Still, we can help to assure the continued existence of a receptive audience by infecting our children and grandchildren with the movie bug. Doing so effectively, though, means knowing which battles can’t be won, and which ones needn’t be fought.

The enemy, in whatever medium, is incoherence along with its partner in crime, indiscriminateness. In this fevered media environment, kids need not only to be restricted in their access to commercial junk, but exposed to what will delight and nourish them–first to children’s literature, and then to our endlessly rich heritage of motion pictures.

Exposing them is all we can do; what happens next must be an article of faith. I’m certainly a congregant, though. I believe the same lures that hooked me on movies as a kid–the spectacle, the mystery, the roiling emotions and the suspense about what happens next–can hold their own against whatever enticements the new media may serve up. First, though, our techie tots must see the flickering light.

The 51 Birch Street event last night was a success, even though we sweated through some technical difficulties. (Paul handled the situation perfectly, putting everyone at ease. I have almost convinced him that it made the event more human and created a sense of comaraderie in the audience.)

There’s really no better place to highlight our imperfect, human condition than at a screening of 51 Birch Street. The filmmaker, Doug Block, has created a documentary around his journey to understand his parents as people, not just parents, and to understand their marriage in that light. In addition to many conversations with family members, the film includes insight drawn from years of his mother’s journals, which were discovered after her death. (The journals include all kinds of information most adults would rather not know about their mothers).

I think the most moving part of the film, for me, is an interview Doug has with his mother’s best friend of many years, Natasha. He asks her if she thinks his mother would have wanted him to read her journals. Natasha goes through a long process of thinking and making a string of “difficult thinking” expressions before she answers emphatically “Yes!” I love how sure she is after taking the time to think about the issue from many different angles. I also love what she says to back up her response: What a relief for someone to really know us, and still love us.

The film held many similar moments for me–moments of articulation that left me feeling that I was understood, not alone. When I talked after the show to several of the 125 people in attendance, it became clear that I was not the only one to be moved in that way. We all have our own, unique stories, yet we are all connected. Films like this simply bring that connection into the light.

That’s why we love filmmakers who realize they have a story, right under their nose, and decide to tell it. If you have your own story about making a breakthrough with your parents, Doug Block wants you to share it at the 51 Birch Street website. (You can also see where the film is scheduled to play in October and November.)

At SXSW this last March I saw Doug Block’s documentary 51 Birch Street. I immediately wanted to show it to my family and friends. It’s just one of those films that’s complete only when you have somebody to talk about it with. The filmmaker, Doug Block, was gracious enough to let us to host a sneak preview screening here in Michigan before it opens later in New York, LA, San Francisco, Chicago, Minneapolis, and Boston.

Over the last several weeks I’ve been showing the film around to friends–by now I’ve probably watched 51 Birch Street half a dozen times. But I love showing it. I may know what happens next, but every time it ends I get to connect with people on a deeper level than what typically happens in everyday conversation. The film addresses the two most fundamental relationships we have: the one with our parents and the one with our wife/husband. What I’ve found is 51 Birch Street scratches an itch we all have, because, let’s face it, some part of our consciousness is always preoccupied with these relationships. It feels good to talk about them every once in a while.

There’s also something I’ve been thinking about around the idea of watching films in crowds. Snakes on a Plane was a blast because I saw it with a bunch of people willing to waste two hours on guaranteed good trash. 51 Birch Street isn’t as rowdy, but it’s also a film that gets better depending on who you watch it with. Although it’s airing on HBO next year, part of the reason we’re hosting this Spout event is I really want to bring it to a theater where people can watch it together, then walk across the street to the local watering hole and dig into some good conversation with each other. At Spout, we’ve always talked about bringing this type of experience to people. I think 51 Birch Street is the perfect film to start with, and there’ll be more to come. Join the 51 Birch Street Group for updates.

51 Birch Street will be showing at 8:00 Thursday, September 28th.
UICA Theater
41 Sheldon Boulevard SE
Grand Rapids, MI 49503