Toy Story a kids' film? Nah...no such thing now!

There is no doubt that over the next few weeks of the summer holidays one of the most frequently visited places will be the local cinema.

Whether it’s Bath’s excellent multi-screen Odeon or my favourite movie house in the world –The Little Theatre – countless parents will be taking their offspring along in the hope of two or three hours of peace as their children remain engrossed and out of mischief.

In the past, I suspect many parents were happy to take their youngsters to what were called ‘children’s films’ so they could have a quiet snooze, safe in the knowledge that their young charges were being royally entertained. Now, however, there is less of a distinction between a children’s film and an adults’ one and as a perfect example of this genre I give you the latest Toy Story film, Toy Story 3.

The whole Toy Story trilogy – the Shrek films are very similar – has helped created a whole new style of film which is aimed (on the surface) at the younger market but which contains so much material and clever writing that an adult can be fooled into believing this film is almost exclusively for them.

On Sunday we, that is two grown adults with no children present, settled down to watch Toy Story without any fear that someone would point to us and say “you’re too old to be in here!”. We did, obviously sit quite close to children so we could pretend we were related if challenged, but the reality is we didn’t need to because I would estimate that half the audience could be classified as adults without families. I saw many couples of different ages and even a group of teenage goths piling in eagerly awaiting to see Woody and Buzz in action.

A kids’ film? Nah . . .

It is, of course, all an example of brilliant marketing – after all, if you can write a film that a six-year-old and a 60-year-old can laugh along with at the same time then you have struck box office gold. Different generations have always enjoyed films together but what makes the Toy Story/Shrek concept different is that the writers have skilfully engineered the scripts so sometimes you are laughing at different lines to your offspring or there are double entendres which means you’re both laughing at the same time – but at different things. (As an example, does anybody else who has seen Toy Story 3 agree with me that Ken isn’t quite, ahem, Barbie’s ‘type’!)

I think what these films show is that, above all, it is great writing that makes a great film and there is something particularly impressive about people who can write a script that has such universal appeal that a wide-eyed four-year-old can be grinning next to a black-clad emo and both of them feel entirely comfortable with what they’re watching.

Incidentally, I saw Toy Story in its 3D form and even this made all of us of different ages feel united in a shared experience. With 3D you all look that little bit silly anyway which puts you in the perfect mood as you prepare to go on a glorious journey to infinity and beyond . . .

Clapping at the cinema? Not cricket is it?

Apologies for the delay in posting. This appeared in the Bath Chronicle on Thursday, March 18.

Something really unusual happened at the Little Theatre in Bath at around 10.15 on Sunday night.

And that was as the credits went up at the end of the film, people did something you are not expected to do in a cinema.

They clapped.

Loudly.

At a theatre show when the people who have entertained you can hear your response then this is fine. But what about for a film where none of the participants was within, say, 3,000 miles of the screening?

Now that IS unusual.

The film in question was Michael Moore's latest polemic; Capitalism – A Love Story. For those who don't know, Mr Moore is that rare thing in America, an out-and-out 'lefty'. He has made TV programmes and films which are always interesting and full of ideas and no matter what your politics you will find something that either raises your spirits or your blood pressure.


Like all good political performers he has the ability to equally engage those who love his philosophy and those who loathe it. And his latest work is no exception – it earned applause in Bath but, I suspect, will earn an avalanche of rotten tomatoes in Alabama.

I did enjoy the film but that clapping lark still came as something of a shock. It is hardly a British thing to show our emotions at the best of times but to do so for people who can't even hear you?
That's just not cricket.

It did, however, remind me of why cinema remains a golden medium. This spontaneous applause was a rare event but not nearly as rare as people clapping in their own homes after a good TV show or film.

Imagine Jeremy Paxman ending Newsnight with the words 'that's it from us....good night' and people leaping off their sofas in their jim-jams shouting 'bravo Paxo!' Unlikely isn't it?

The fact that cinema can offer this power of collective experience is what contributes to its magic.

I have sat in films where no one wanted to speak at the end (I recall watching Schindler's List where people felt almost reluctant to leave their seats as if it was somehow disrespectful), films where people have stood up and cheered (ET when Elliot's bike flew into the sky) and even films where people started dancing.

The last time I saw dancing in a cinema was, however, a bit embarrassing.

I had gone to see Mamma Mia at the Odeon in Bath and the film replicated the end of the stage show where there is a Dancing Queen reprise and people are encouraged to stand up and jig along. When the film reached the same point two girls leapt to their feet assuming everyone else would do the same.

They didn't.

Our intrepid super troupers were faced with the awful choice; do we carry on dancing and look a bit silly or do we sit down and look a bit silly?

They went for the former.

And duly looked a bit silly.

To be honest I almost felt like clapping when they had finished to make them feel better.

But then again you can't do that in the cinema, can you?

Movies, Marley and magic moments

I am, and always have been, a film buff and this week has given me two great reminders as to why I so enjoy movies and the cinema.

The first came on Saturday when I went to the Odeon in Bath to see the new romcom movie Marley & Me.

On the surface this isn’t the kind of film that would normally get me through the Odeon’s door but as a proud owner of an extremely mischievous labrador (that's my dog Snoopy pictured here as an innocent looking pup - oh boy has she changed!!!!) I was intrigued to see the film version of John Grogan’s book.

The film was pretty good (I won’t go much further than that), but why it had an impact on me in a ‘this-is-why-I-love-the cinema’ kind of way is that it produced a wonderful collective moment.

Without going into too much detail, although this is a lightly comic piece, there are a couple of scenes which do (quite spectacularly) tug at the old heart-strings and this is where watching a film in a cinema leaves seeing it at home on the TV for dead.

As we watched the somewhat sad events unfold on screen, I started to hear the odd snuffle. This snuffle started to grow into what sounded like something of an epidemic and soon we were all left in an uncomfortable silence broken only by people quietly letting their emotions show or desperately trying not to with fake coughs and yawns.

OK, you could have felt a little bit manipulated by all the schmaltz – but it still worked very powerfully.

Being in a cinema when emotions like this are expressed really does have a power. Whether it’s hearing a whole audience laughing hysterically or sharing that stunned silence at the end of a movie when nobody really wants to move (I certainly sensed that after The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas), this experience is something to behold.

Probably my favourite example of this goes way back to when I did my training as a journalist in Sheffield at the time ET came out. About 20 of us young reporters made a pilgrimage to see the movie and I should think half of these would-be cynical old hacks were blubbing like babies as that somewhat ugly alien looked like it was dying. Better still, and this still remains a one-off in my experience, the moment ET took Elliot’s bike off the ground and into the sky to avoid the police, half the audience stood up and cheered. It was an amazing spontaneous moment which reminded us again of the unique magic of the cinema.

Two days after seeing Marley, I spent a very enjoyable evening at the wonderful Little Theatre in Bath for one of their superbly organised film quizzes. It is always good to be in the presence of people who know their onions – and trust me, many people at this quiz were practically full-time onion producers.

We thought we had a crack team (me, our business reporter Rupert Hall, our leisure reporter Dan Biggane and my proud film snob son Oliver) and we went under the great name of The Bath Chronicles of Riddick. That name, however, turned out to be one of the few good decisions we made all night as we went on to crash and burn and muster a score of just 37 per cent.

I knew we were in trouble when, anticipating that we would get a question such as ‘Name the characters in the Magnificent Seven’ (pictured left) I asked one of our number (Dan) and he said ‘The Hulk’ as he thought they were a super hero team.

Despite (or maybe even because) we struggled a bit, we really enjoyed the night and it felt great to be in the presence of people (like) us who truly love their movies.

Next on my film agenda is the Brian Clough movie – The Damned United. Bet that won’t make me cry. ..