Jun 30

Where We All Go And Get Drunk

I’m sure most of you reading this are already aware, but this Friday I’m going out for my birthday (which isn’t actually until the following Sunday, but as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing wrong with being a little premature). The plan is to head to Reel Music at the Bloomsbury Bowling Lanes, under the Taivstock hotel (again, I’m sure most of you know this already).

The doors open at half-eight, but to make things just a little more difficult (and because I know a lot of you are coming straight from work) I’m planning to meet at The Friend at Hand, just round the corner from the venue, before hand. Here’s a link to a Google map to find it.  I’m planning to get there for about half seven, although I’m making no promises about this. There’s every chance I’ll roll in at quarter past eight. If I do, I apologise in advance.

If you are coming I’d be grateful if you could drop me an e-mail. There’s no benefit to you in doing this, but it’ll let me know who to look out for if I’m trying to find you in a busy pub/nightclub. For those of you without my e-mail address it’s montimer@hotmail.com. Similarly, if you’re not based in London and struggling for somewhere to stay, let me know (ASAP) and I’ll see if I can get something sorted.

I think that’s everything. See you Friday.

Apr 21

Where I Make Some Pretty Pictures

Over the last few days my workload has tailed off. Normally I’ve got at least one deadline dangling over me, but for the first time since about September, I simply don’t.

It’s an odd feeling. Sort of like a holiday. Only better, because I don’t have to go to dinner with my family every night.

One of the reasons I don’t have a great deal of free time is because when I do have some, I end up coming up with new projects to work on. Today was no different. Fortunately this project was a fairly short one, and it’s already done.

So, without further ado, my take on some less-shit-than-the-official-ones X-Men First Class posters. Hope you like them:

Mar 21

Where I Blog About Movie Bloggers

Image Credit – Goopymart on Flickr

For the last couple of weeks, geeks from around the world have been hanging out in Austin, Texas for South-By-Southwest (SXSW). The festival is just about over now, but alongside the stream of news, reviews and interviews coming out of the event is a rather unsettling amount of navel gazing and controversy relating film journalists/bloggers.

Last Thursday, Catherine Shoard, film editor at The Guardian published an article entitled “SXSW film: The pros and cons of geek domination”. It’s an interesting read, but it also made some rather dubious points, particularly in it’s depiction of online writers.

Shoard characterises bloggers as, “the thick-set, dense-bearded, logo T-shirted, hooting, whooping, white, apparently heterosexual thirtysomethings”, who are interested primarily in blockbuster movies, and are desperate to cultivate a relationship with their idols. This may have been true of the online film writer community ten or twelve years ago, and may still hold true at SXSW, but it simply does not represent the majority of us working today.

In reality, the film bloggers are writers, of both sexes, ranging from students to retirees. Some write exclusively for their own sites, with only a handful of visitors, while others contribute to collective blogs with a much larger audiences. In addition to this, many bloggers also write for ‘mainstream’ websites with millions of hits every day. Some even have articles published on dead trees, although quite why anyone would bother with that is beyond me.

Almost without exception these people not only love film, but have a knowledge of it that is broad and deep, and for the record, most of them have the same degree of scorn that every other intellectually capable adult has for the continual stream of very stupid movies being churned out by lazy studio executives.

The article also features a quote from Joe Cornish that he may well live to regret, “[bloggers are] film champions, rather than film critics. If they don’t like something, they just won’t write about it”. Which is incredibly optimistic of Cornish, and sadly, for a man with a film due for release, also a little delusional. The truth is, most of us are as hard on films as any of our peers, if not more so. It is true that we’ll often reduce coverage on a film if we’ve seen it and hated it (who wants to regurgitate yet another press release about a piece of crap?), but we will always publish the review.

Then there’s the quote from Anne Thompson, which is so condescending and rude, I’m singling it out with its own paragraph:

“The people who write them would rankle at being called fansites, but they aren’t journalists. And yet they’re increasingly getting the scoops. Their leverage with studios comes from providing a direct line between the films and the fans.”

The fact is that, for a certain type of blog, real journalism is key to their success, and their writers are some of the only entertainment reporters who could possibly be described as ‘journalists’.

While the trades (Variety, Screen International, The Hollywood Reporter) and the traditional media spend their time sorting through press releases, sites like Latino Review, The Daily Blam and Bleeding Cool pursue real stories, by developing sources, chasing leads and finding confirmation. This may be low level, and it may be about something entirely inconsequential, but this is, by any standards, the very definition of ‘journalism’.

In an ideal world, this article would end here, with a smug little sign off flipping a virtual two fingered salute at Anne Thompson, but if I were to do so, I’d be ignoring a fucking great neon-pink, woolly mammoth in the room – journalistic ethics.

Two days before Shoard’s article was published, A journalist for Tech Crunch, Alexia Tsotsis, was invited by sister site, MovieFone to interview Duncan Jones and Jake Gyllenhaal about the use of social media to market Source Code. For some, rather inexplicable reason, the marketing bods at Summit took umbrage with the tone Tsotsis had used in her subsequent article, and complained to MovieFone editor in chief Patricia Chui, who sent Tsotsis an e-mail, wondering if “the snark can be toned down”.

Following so far? If not, Pajiba did a far better job than I could of summarising the whole affair.

What is really important is that, at the end of a week that saw a MovieFone editor do something really stupid, and two TechCrunch staff behave like a pair of spiteful children, the only professional casualty was Scott Weinberg*, who, in spite of having nothing to do with the scandal, resigned from his post as editor of Cinematical, yet another MovieFone sister site, because the whole incident was “just the ass-kick I needed”.

That is to say, a ‘blogger’, as derided by Thompson and Shoard, felt that to maintain his integrity he had to give up his job. When was the last time an entertainment hack for a dead tree publication did that?

Of course, we don’t all have the same sense of ethics as Mister Weinberg, but we try. We may publish a lot of articles based on press releases, and get more excited than is entirely sensible about certain films, but we still attempt to remain as professional and detached as possible.

This becomes extremely difficult under some circumstances. Set visits, for example represent a real challenge. I defy anyone invited to a set of a $100+ film not to write a report in the fashion of an excited schoolboy. For a feature writer like myself, seeing Hollywood in action is a visceral thrill that comes across in my subsequent reporting. The saving grace of this is that, it would appear, at least, that readers like this style.

That said if I have been to a set, I will not review that film. Indeed, I feel quite bad reviewing a film where I’ve had any contact with anyone involved with it. In an ideal world there would be a separation within sites of reviewers from real people, and never would someone who specialises in interviews be called upon to give an opinion on the latest release. Sadly, for most outlets, this is growing less and less possible, as publicists have their screening budgets slashed, and access to screenings becomes more and more limited.

Even still, most of us take pride in writing independent reviews, and to my knowledge, not a single one of my colleagues has been asked to tone down a review by a studio, or an agent thereof. Most of the editors I have know, both in the UK and the US are belligerent enough that a request to amend a review would be met with an e-mail telling the publicist to fuck off, and a very well publicised article soon after.

I have been involved with requests to tone down news articles. On one occasion I did so as a publicist, and had my request (reluctantly) honoured. Otherwise it’s been as a journalist, getting calls from interviewees asking for content to be removed. In both cases I complied with the request on the grounds that the people involved were facing legal action for what they had said. While I wasn’t happy about either situation, and my reputation took a bit of a kicking from each, it’s only entertainment reporting, and I would rather my ego take a bruising, than see someone at the start of their career sued. I’d still never tone down a review though.

It is certain that there are a few people in the blogosphere who are nothing more than studio whores, publishing every press release they receive, and writing uncritical praise of everything they see. That’s also true for the legitimate media too, in the same way that it’s true that there are many outlets which belligerently slag off movies and particular filmmakers to get a reputation.  But it’s not true of most.

Like it or not, the industry is changing, and web-based content is coming to the fore. As it does, talented writers, who would in decades past have found themselves staffing for magazines or newspapers, are now competing for scraps of freelance work, and writing for blogs in their spare time to maintain a profile; while those wishing to break into the industry find writing for a film blog a preferable, and more rewarding option than spending months perfecting their tea-making skills as an unpaid intern at a magazine.

This influx of talent is forcing us to up our game, both in terms of content and quality. The converse is true too, as we as a community encourage the abilities of new writers, and set standards of behaviour. The most dramatic example of this was last year’s plagiarism scandal (follow the link for a much better explanation of the fiasco than I could give), but it happens on a daily basis through e-mails, tweets and private conversations, as we criticise or question when other bloggers do silly things.

There is still room for improvement. At the very least we need to separate out the reporters from the reviewers, particularly at larger outlets. We also need to start disclosing when we accept ‘swag’ – whether it’s a goody bag at an interview, or a hotel/flight to a junket.  It might not have any influence on our coverage, but readers deserve to know.

I’m sure there are other things we could work on too, but the underlying point is, the days of the movie blogging being dominated by unprofessional, dribbling cretins with no knowledge of film outside of continuity errors in Star Wars are over, if they ever existed at all. Our colleagues in the mainstream media would do well to recognise that.

*It’s probably prudent in an article relating to ethics to declare that Scott is someone I occasionally exchange tweets with, and have a huge deal of respect for.

Mar 8

Where I Organise Drinks

Right ladies and gentlemen, it’s been far too long since we all got together, so I’m organising beers*.

Not quite sure where we”ll be going yet – I’m open to suggestion – but they’re going to be happening on 31st March, somewhere in central London.

Coming?

*Note I said ‘organising’, not ‘paying for’.

Feb 27

Where I Try To Predict The Oscars

Last year I wrote this article, explaining my not-quite foolproof system for predicting the Oscars. I didn’t get every category, but I did get enough to win £60 on a ten pound bet.

This year I’ve tweaked the system a little. There are quite a few categories that I couldn’t find any data for. In those cases I took a random guess last year, this time however, I’ve combined my stab-in-the-dark technique with the predictions of InContention.com’s Guy Lodge. It made a bit more sense, as he is, in fact, King Of Oscar Predictions.

The categories I’ve followed Guy on are in itallics.

The categories in bold are the ones I’m most confident about.

Actor in a Leading Role

•       Colin Firth in “The King’s Speech”

Actor in a Supporting Role

•       Christian Bale in “The Fighter”

Actress in a Leading Role

•       Natalie Portman in “Black Swan”

Actress in a Supporting Role

•       Melissa Leo in “The Fighter”

Animated Feature Film

•       “Toy Story 3” Lee Unkrich

Art Direction

•       “Inception”

Production Design: Guy Hendrix Dyas; Set Decoration: Larry Dias and Doug Mowat

Cinematography

•       “Inception” Wally Pfister

Costume Design

•       “Alice in Wonderland” Colleen Atwood

Directing

•       “The Social Network” David Fincher

Documentary (Feature)

•       “Exit through the Gift Shop” Banksy and Jaimie D’Cruz

Documentary (Short Subject)

•       “Strangers No More” Karen Goodman and Kirk Simon

Film Editing

•       “The Social Network” Angus Wall and Kirk Baxter

Foreign Language Film

•       “In a Better World” Denmark

Makeup

•       “The Wolfman” Rick Baker and Dave Elsey

Music (Original Score)

•       “The Social Network” Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

Music (Original Song)

•       “We Belong Together” from “Toy Story 3″ Music and Lyric by Randy Newman

Best Picture

•       “The Social Network” Scott Rudin, Dana Brunetti, Michael De Luca and Ceán Chaffin, Producers

Short Film (Animated)

•       “The Lost Thing” Shaun Tan and Andrew Ruhemann

Short Film (Live Action)

•       “God of Love” Luke Matheny

Sound Editing

•       “Inception” Richard King

Sound Mixing

•       “Inception” Lora Hirschberg, Gary A. Rizzo and Ed Novick

Visual Effects

•       “Inception” Paul Franklin, Chris Corbould, Andrew Lockley and Peter Bebb

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)

•       “The Social Network” Screenplay by Aaron Sorkin

Writing (Original Screenplay)

•       “Inception” Written by Christopher Nolan

Feb 21

Where I Post My First Set Of Notes From A Small Iceland

The last time I went on a family holiday was a somewhat traumatic experience, where we essentially spent two weeks winding one another up. At every possible opportunity my sister and I would prod and poke at one another, hoping for a reaction. Simultaneously my previously very good relationship with my dad deteriorated rapidly as we constantly niggled with one another over just about everything. Meanwhile my mum sulked from the sidelines, occasionally chipping in with a barbed comment or two as she saw fit.

Consequently, much as I love them (and I do), I’ve avoided spending prolonged amounts of time with my parents and sister since then.  The last time we went away as a family was twelve years ago, and I’ve had a convenient excuse to get out of holidays since.

This year my dad turned sixty. He’s always been keen to see the Northern Lights, and towards the end of last year my mum started looking into the possibility of a family holiday to Iceland to celebrate the old man’s birthday, and (possibly) see them. Initially she didn’t tell me or my sister. When she did spring it on us, pleasant a surprise as it was, it was also far too late to back out. We were committed. First family holiday in twelve years, like it or not.

This morning, at eight fifteen, we got in a car and headed for Heathrow. The drive to the airport was, surprisingly, not too bad. Somehow my family, a group of individuals pathologically incapable of spending more than twenty minutes together without squabbling  sat in a car for over an hour in peace. It may well have been the case that we were too tired to fight, and I was too drunk from the night before to care, but it could also have been us finally growing to tolerate one another.

Or not. A few hours later, while waiting at Heathrow, the first argument broke out.

Shortly after that, another – stopped only because we were boarding the plane, and separated by a rather fortuitous cock up with the seating arrangements.

Then we were in Iceland.

It’s probably worth pointing out here that, of everyone in the family, I am by far the most argumentative. The persona I put across as a writer – sardonic dick – is not a stylistic choice, that’s me. It doesn’t switch off. No surprise then that the first thing I said to my mum in country was obnoxious. She asked me to keep an eye out for my dad as he got off the plane. I responded “he’s sixty years old. I’m sure he’ll be fine” to the amusement of a retired couple on a bench, and the frustration of my mother.

It didn’t get much better from there. Somehow there’s something about being with my family that cranks ‘dickhead Ben’ into overdrive. By dinner we were at boiling point. So much so that at various stages both my sister and I both felt the need to leave the dinner table, only to be persuaded back by text messages promising free food and booze. Then the fates intervened to fix everything.

We arrived at the restaurant, conveniently situated in the foyer of the hotel, at about half six. We’d booked our seats on a coach trip to see the Northern Lights at eight thirty. Plenty enough time to eat. Indeed, very nearly enough time to commit familicide as well. Surprising then, that by twenty past seven, we’d only had our starters. Half an hour later, we were still waiting.

Initially we were very nice, simply asking what was going on, and pointing out we had to go by half eight. Eventually, however, a combination of hunger, and a pressing desire to argue with everything overwhelmed me. I asked to speak to the manager, explained the situation, then told them that we wouldn’t be paying for the meal. Surprisingly, they agreed. Five minutes later our food arrived, and while everyone else got what they’d ordered, for some inexplicable reason, my club sandwich had an egg on it. I gave up, and went to get changed.

In spite of the unpleasant experience, that meal served to give us a common enemy. Suddenly the family united, and for the remainder of the evening we were (as close as we get to) harmonious.

Ten minutes later, unfed, and more than a little narked, I got on a coach, heading out of the city, hoping to see the Northern Lights.

Iceland is a tiny country. If one were to violently sneeze on a map of the world, the resulting globule would probably be about the same size. Certainly the same shape. Consequently the coach ride only took about half an hour before we were sufficiently far from civilisation to see the Northern Lights.

At this juncture, it’s probably worth pointing out that I’ve been on one of these luminescent wild goose chases before. Several years ago I went on a ski trip to Finland. My girlfriend at the time and I went on a ski-doo trip into the wilderness hoping to see the Aurora. Instead we (I) crashed, she got soaked, and I got an earful.

I didn’t hold out much hope, therefore, of actually seeing anything.

Which is why I was rather surprised when, barely thirty minutes into the evening, the coach pulled over and we disembarked to look at the Aurora.

And it was a bit crap.

What we were seeing, while undoubtedly the Northern Lights, were filtered through clouds. Consequently they were more than a little underwhelming, as much as we all tried very hard to fake awe at their ‘beauty’.

After forty minutes of pretending what we were seeing something interesting, we got back on the coach, and drove further into the abyss. We went for barely a mile before we stopped again.

This time we got the full effect.

Describing the Aurora is pointless. As a writer I am incabable of conveying the experience. As is photography. The lights are much less bright than in photographs, but much more interesting. They move. Almost imperceptibly, but they move. And the more you stare, the more you see. At times they’re a curtain of light, others a ribbon. Then a cloud. Indeed, at their best, they were, in essence, a glowing gas cloud drifting across the sky. A description wholly accurate, and entirely inadequate.

Supporting the lights is a sky filled with celestial objects glowing, shimmering and shining at the peak of their brightness. The beauty of being far enough out of town to see the Aurora is that we were also sufficiently far out to see a planetarium of stars.

As we stared up, the bitter cold fought through our warm kit. One of the most visceral elements of the experience is the sheer, biting chill. We mitigated it with regular nips of bourbon,  but nothing we could do could keep it out. No matter how beautiful the view, it had to end, if only for the sake of our noses.

What was really remarkable about the lights, however, was their ability to force family rivalries aside. Dinner and a unified threat helped, but ultimately, what soothed the savage Mortimers was pretty lights, and the technical challenges of capturing those lights on a compact camera.

Initially I tried using my sister as a tripod (she’s surprisingly good. At least as good as a low end monopod). Realising this was impractical, I tried sitting on the ground. This was worse. It’s great for quick shots, but on a sixty-second exposure, it becomes quite cold. So much so that my shaking translated into the photo. Eventually I fixed that by sitting on my bag. Simple, but effective.

Eventually, half-pissed and rather impressed, we returned to the hotel.

Fingers crossed tomorrow will involve even less family-centric arguments.

Photos to follow  as soon as I can get them off the camera

Feb 18

Where I Write About Twitter Like Some Sort Of Marketing Twat

Sorry to put up another Twitter-related post, but there’s something that’s been annoying me for quite some time now – Follow Friday.

For non-Twitterers (why are you reading this?), Follow Friday, or in Twitter parlance “#FollowFriday” is a weekly ritual whereby users recommend to their “followers” other people to “follow”.

In theory this allows Twitter users to find new and interesting people to follow. In practice it’s at best a colossal waste of time, and at worst a perfect opportunity to unintentionally offend people.

Which is why I’m proposing an alternative. Rather than recommending one person (or a long, unintelligible list of people) to all of your followers, instead think of two people you enjoy interacting with, and think may get on, and introduce them.

I’ve been doing this for a few weeks now, and it seems to be working. People who previously had never known one another existed, interact on a regular basis. It also avoids the inherent politics surrounding #FollowFriday.

I’ve been using a few rules about who I introduce to whom. They are:

  • You must interact with both parties on a regular basis – This is by far the most important, and is pretty obvious.
  • The interaction should be between two parties – Any more and it will probably get a little complicated.
  • Keep it short – I’ve been using an intro along the lines of ‘@someone are you and @someone_else following each other? You really should be.’
  • Don’t just do it one day of the week – This isn’t about getting hashtags trending, so do it whenever it seems appropriate.

That’s it. No more Twitter-centric posts for at least a week.

Feb 8

Where I Stare At BAFTA Dumbfounded

It was all going so well. After decades of being lambasted for being a pointless, parochial pile of crap, the BAFTAs were getting there. They might not have had the status of the OSCARs, or the EMMYs, or even the (much maligned) Golden Globes, but they were at least coming close to respectability. No one outside of the UK gave a shit, but within the water-bound borders of this group of islands we’d begun to care. We even watched the telecast.

Then Twitter happened.

A few years ago it didn’t matter that you guys broadcast the show an hour late. We could pretend it was live, but without the boring parts. Now it really does.

Over the last few years, thanks to Twitter, awards season has become a real event. More so than it’s been in decades. Quite possibly more than it has ever been. Throughout the Golden Globes, the Screen Actors Guild Awards, and the Oscars, people around the world have been discussing, live, the results, using Twitter. This works because the shows are broadcast live (or with a maximum delay of about one minute), allowing everyone to get the result at almost the same time, and without the risk of spoilers.

Then you guys came along and fucked everything up.

You had a one hour delay on your broadcast. Quite why can only possibly be known by you and the BBC. I wouldn’t care to speculate, but in doing so you render yourselves utterly irrelevant. The fun of 21st century awards shows is watching them on the TV, then bitching about who won with your 700 nearest and dearest hangers on. The delay means we all know who won before we even see them trot down the red carpet. Worse it means the conversation loses synchronicity, as some tweet about things as they happen, and the rest tweet an hour later. In short, it’s a TwitApartheid, and the question is why?

Seriously why? Last year we could let you off. Twitter was still new. There were far fewer people using it, and the popularity of awards season was a surprise. Since then you must have received at least a few letters commenting on the situation (if not an absolute mountain of them), and yet you’ve done nothing about it.

Most of us on Twitter are proud of British film and the talent that makes it. We write long articles singing the praises of features as diverse as The King’s Speech, and Tony: London Serial Killer. Please give us an awards show we can be equally proud of.

Feb 8

Where I Assure You All That I’m Still Alive

First, sorry for the massive break since I last put anything up here, life has become somewhat busier in the last few weeks than I had expected.

Also, I will finish my ‘Where I Turn My Attention To Cinemas’ articles (there’ll probably be three of them in the end), but not until I have some more accurate figures. Anywho, on with the site

Jan 13

Where I Turn My Attention To Cinemas – Part 1

On the surface, it seems like cinemas should be in rude health. In spite of a few hiccups in individual years, there has been a gradual rise in box office take, on both sides of the Atlantic, since the mid nineties, and while admissions are still substantially lower than their pre-TV peak, the spend is, none the less, huge: approximately £1.2 billion ($1.86 billion) in the UK, and $10.6 billion (£6.8 billion) in the US.

So how much of that do the cinemas see?

Not a lot, and that’s down to the distributors, and the rates they charge for print rentals. In some cases this might be a simple flat fee to rent the print over a duration of time; depending on the film, this might be less than a hundred pounds for a single screening, or tens of thousands for a multi-week engagement. It’s the model used if you rent a cinema for a private screening, or if the cinema obtains an old print for a special event, but in general it is no longer used.

Instead, most distributors request a percentage share of the box office take. This percentage ranges from about 50%, all the way up to 95% depending on the film, and how long it’s been on release.

There is a very good explanation of this at HowStuffWorks.com, which I’m now going to summarise badly.

At the outset, the cinema and the distributor agree on how much it will cost the cinema to screen the film, based on their day-to-day operating costs. For reasons that I’m struggling to explain, this is known as the ‘nut’. In our first example, we’re going to set the nut at £3000/week.

After this, it gets a little complicated, as the parties agree two separate rates for each week. The first rate is a percentage of the NET take (Total Box Office – NUT). The second is a percentage of the GROSS take (Total Box Office). After both of these are calculated, the distributor will apply the one that best works in their favour.

The gross percentage is always lower than the net percentage, as it replaces the nut as a way for the house to recoup costs. The percentages become lower after each week of release, offering the cinema a better return on films that have been out for a longer duration.

Confused? Don’t worry, here’s a table that may make it a little more clear.

Week Net % Gross% Gross BO Nut Net Fee Gross Fee Theatre Profit/Loss
One 95 70 £10,000.00 £3,000.00 £6,650.00 £7,000.00 £0.00
Two 95 70 £8,000.00 £3,000.00 £4,750.00 £5,600.00 -£600.00
Three 90 60 £7,750.00 £3,000.00 £4,275.00 £4,650.00 £100.00
Four 85 50 £7,000.00 £3,000.00 £3,400.00 £3,500.00 £500.00

OK, on it’s own it doesn’t help. I’ll try to explain it.

In the first column, we have ‘Week’. More specifically, we have weeks on release. For each week, we have the agreed net figure (column 2) and gross figure (column 3). As you can see, they start out rather high, and only get a tiny bit better.

In the fourth column we have the Gross Box Office. Simply put, the amount of money the cinema have taken from admissions, while column five is the ‘nut’.

The next two columns are the distributor’s rental fee, calculated at net percentage or gross percentage. The formula for calculating net fee is:

NET FEE = (Gross Box Office – Nut) x Net %

While the formula for calculating gross fee is:

GROSS FEE = Gross Box Office x Gross %

The obvious upshot of this is that the gross fee may actually be every penny of the cinema’s profit and more. Indeed that’s exactly what has happened in the first two weeks (we’ll return to that in a second).

As already stated, the distributor will take the larger of the two fees. To that end I have highlighted the figure taken each week in Bold Orange.

The final column shows the profit that the cinema makes on the screening of a film. Terrifyingly low, isn’t it?

This example used arbitrary figures for box office, and nut. The examples below are a little more interesting as they look at actual films. This page explains how I obtained/extrapolated/estimated the figures that I’ve used – feel free to not read it.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince – Released 15th July 2009

Week Net % Gross% Gross BO Nut Net%$ Gross%$ Theatre Profit/Loss
One 95 70 £33,878.00 £13,992.45 £18,891.27 £23,714.60 -£3,829.05
Two 95 70 £8,834.00 £13,992.45 -£4,900.53 £6,183.80 -£11,342.25
Three 90 60 £5,137.00 £13,992.45 -£7,969.91 £3,082.20 -£11,937.65
Four 85 50 £2,522.00 £13,992.45 -£9,749.88 £1,261.00 -£12,731.45

Moon – Released 17th July 2009

Week Net % Gross% Gross BO Nut Net%$ Gross%$ Theatre Profit/Loss
One 50 30 £2,770.00 £3,661.00 -£445.50 £831.00 -£1,722.00
Two 50 30 £2,338.00 £3,661.00 -£661.50 £701.40 -£2,024.40
Three 45 20 £2,104.00 £3,661.00 -£700.65 £420.80 -£1,977.80
Four 40 15 £1,401.00 £3,661.00 -£904.00 £210.15 -£2,470.15

Terminator: Salvation – Released 3rd June 2009

Week Net % Gross% Gross BO Nut Net%$ Gross%$ Theatre Profit/Loss
One 70 45 £14,185.00 £6,996.23 £5,032.14 £6,383.25 £805.53
Two 70 45 £4,031.00 £6,996.23 -£2,075.66 £1,813.95 -£4,779.18
Three 60 30 £1,763.00 £6,996.23 -£3,139.94 £528.90 -£5,762.13
Four 50 15 £1,080.00 £6,996.23 -£2,958.11 £162.00 -£6,078.23

To describe these figures as anything other than catastrophic would be a huge understatement. Even if one were to assume I had a 50% margin of error in my estimates, it would still be an utterly desperate scenario. More or less every film shown at the cinema appears to lose money, whether it’s a small, pseudo-independent film like Moon, or a massive blockbuster like the Harry Potter franchise. The only difference between them is the scale of the loss.

Not only is there no money in exhibition, but in the last few years the technology used to screen films has changed. With the new wave of 3D films, and the advent of digital distribution, cinemas are having to spend small fortunes on upgrading their projection equipment. Not to mention an apparent arms race between the chains to improve the quality of their seating.

Of course, there must be some salvation, otherwise cinemas would have gone out of business a long time ago, and that salvation is…

Popcorn.

This probably comes as absolutely no revelation, but the way most cinemas make their profit is through the concession stand. Not only do the majority of people spend about as much there as they do on tickets, if not more, but it’s also incredibly profitable. At wholesale, a box of postmix cola costs about £50, and contains enough for 113 large (16oz) servings or 394 small (4oz) servings. Splitting the difference 157 (10oz) servings, priced at a very cheap £2.70/ serving, that’s £374, nearly 87% gross profit (GP), without accounting for ice. Same goes with popcorn, nachos and hot dogs. Indeed, even the less profitable snacks, like pre-packaged sweets and premium ice cream still make somewhere in the range of 75% GP.

But while all is not lost, we’re not out of the woods yet. For the sake of this example we’ll assume average GP on snacks is 80%, a bit lower than popcorn and soft drinks, a bit higher than pre-packaged sweets, the cinema needs to sell £49,800 just to break even. Assuming an average spend per head of £7 (both the approximate average ticket price in cinemas, and as far as I can remember, about what I last paid for a drink/hotdog combo) the cinema still need to serve 7,115 people in a month to break even on screening Harry Potter.

Breaking that down again, with four screenings per day, seven days a week, they need an average of 255 customers from each to pay that £7 on food to hit break-even.

At this stage I’d like to be able to provide a national average number of seats in each screen, unfortunately the most recent data I can find is this which ends in 1977. Instead, I have used data freely available on the Empire Cinemas website to average the number of seats out across their chain. It’s far from an accurate national average, but given the lack of available data it will have to suffice. At any length this gives us an average number of seats per screen of 216, meaning that nearly 85% of the customers going to see Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone will have to spend £7 for the cinema to break even.

Assuming every single customer pays that £7, our average cinema looks to make £7644 profit on an turnover of £91322, just 8.37%. Factor in tax, insurance and a contingency fund, and suddenly the business is bust.

What’s worse is that in the last twelve months, the number of people going to the cinema has dropped by around 5%. It has been speculated that this drop is due to the recession, the rise in cheap, high quality home entertainment and higher ticket prices at the cinema. Whatever it is, if it continues, it’s a disaster for exhibitors. With a margin (average number of seats – number of seats needed to turn a profit) of a little over 15%, if the downward trend in audiences continues at the same pace, at least in theory, their profits could be wiped out in around three years. Advertising may allow them to continue for a few years longer, but in the long term, they don’t stand a chance.

Next post, I try to work out what can be done to improve the situation, both for cinema owners, and for the audience.