Screening

It’s ten o’clock in the morning, on a rain-washed street in London’s Soho district. The clubs are dark and closed. The Thai Cottage restaurant won’t open until lunchtime. The coffee shop on the corner sells early morning caffeine shots. Yes, for the London media set, this is early morning. This isn’t the up-with-the-lark early birdism of sunny California. In media London, nobody’s at their desks before ten. They’re all out late at night partying, sorry, having meetings in popular local venues. And then the next day they sidle into the office after the rush hour is over.

I am the only one standing outside the screening rooms. This isn’t your afternoon or evening Event, with nibbles and wine and smiling marketing girls. An earnest, dapper Japanese man, still on Tokyo time, hands me a single glossy card about Schoolgirl Milky Crisis: The Movie. He has a stack of twenty. The cinema seats maybe fifty, in plush super-luxury.

Another five people arrive. They are young and bored. None of them really wants to be here. They are the newest workers in their respective offices, dumped with the worst of the pre-MIP tasks – watching a Japanese cartoon at ten in the morning.

All the real action will happen in France, at the Cannes MIPCOM fair. That’s where the buyers from the distributors are being wined and dined by the distributors. That’s where the goodie bags and perks are. That’s where people are splashing out on lunch. That’s where, in a week’s time, the higher-ups will be living it up. But before the movie world converges on France, there’s the pre-MIP screenings.

Nobody has time to watch movies in Cannes! They’re too busy being “entertained”. So the week before, they send out the expendable soldiers to catch film after film at special screenings, so they can turn up in France knowing what they want. Or rather, what they don’t want.

If a film is really huge, if it really has buzz and momentum and Tom Cruise, then you don’t need to revise for it on a wet April morning. These screenings are for the wallflowers – the ones that didn’t get invited to the ball. And yes, that usually means the Japanese cartoons.

Pro audiences are the worst in the world. Within 20 minutes, I am alone in the cinema. The others waited just long enough to make sure this wasn’t another Paprika, another Akira, another Howl. As soon as they confirm it isn’t, there’s no need for them to stay. They don’t want it. They walk straight out without a backward glance. They will write a single line email to their boss, and that’s another meeting he won’t be taking in France.

I stay to the end. I’m only here because I was genuinely interested in seeing the film. The Japanese exhibitor grabs me outside.

“You’re Jonathan Clements,” he says.

I ask him how he knows.

“You stayed to the end,” he says with a sad smile. “And you laughed at the Kurosawa joke.”

He stacks his remaining cards and looks at his watch. He knows who I am. Which means he knows I don’t actually have anyone to report to. Nobody’s buying Schoolgirl Milky Crisis, not today.

(This article first appeared in Newtype USA, November 2007 and was reprinted in the collection Schoolgirl Milky Crisis).

Advertisements

9 thoughts on “Screening

  1. I don’t think I am giving anything away to say that the real event on which this column was based was the pre-MIP screening of Bayside Shakedown: the Movie, eleven or twelve years ago.

  2. That opening paragraph captures Soho morning better than Shane MacGowan. The rest of the articles hints at the malaise in this business that still makes me question on some days what I’m doing in it.

  3. I’d like to say something about expanding horizons and trying new things, but having watched ‘She, the ultimate weapon’ last year, I didn’t understand or connect with the characters and failed to completely miss the point. So perhaps I’m not the best person to comment on acquiring tastes.

    Meanwhile, not so long ago, square-enix release their umpteenth final fantasy game to the masses while their DS ‘Nanashi no game’ title will never see the light of day outside Japan. Maybe 14 years from now fans will translate and release a patch for the game, as they had done with Konami’s Policenauts.

  4. “They are the newest workers in their respective offices, dumped with the worst of the pre-MIP tasks – watching a Japanese cartoon at ten in the morning.”
    -That strikes me as one of the BEST tasks someone can be paid to do! Even if they don’t like it can’t they just go to sleep or something?They’re being paid! Beats real work. Bunch of Nathan Barleys, I’ll bet. Don’t know they’re born etc etc.

  5. Mark — as my friend Dangerous Dave regularly intones, it’s certainly better than canning sardines in a factory. But this is also a reason why “fans” have trouble getting jobs in the industry, and often burn out fast if they do. It’s not so much about getting to do the thing you love. It’s the swift demystification and removal of all the fun parts so such an extent that it starts to feel like work.

    I wrote something along similar lines in SMC:
    https://schoolgirlmilkycrisis.com/blog/?p=66

  6. JC – of course. even in the dream job you face the pressure of deadlines, making the right decisions and stress and overkill – it will feel like work. Still, I’m sure many ‘fans’ could do a decent job of it as long as they kept a professional attitude. Otherwise it’s back to the sardines factory…

  7. Work is giving force to overcome resistance, and in anime and manga the resistance is two fold. One is the resistance to accept a foreign cultural attitude, and the other is the in bred attitude that a certain media is only for the very young and therefore should not be used for the entertainment of adults by communication establishments and facilities unless some great gain is achieved. Risky business for sure.

  8. I’ve always had trouble answering the “what is your idea job” question as I really don’t know. Apparently if you find a job you enjoy doing then you’ll never work another day, but I worry that once what you enjoy doing becomes something you *have* to do that it will lose its lustre.
    I would love a job in the anime industry, but I wouldn’t know where to start of what sort of job I am actually suited for, and it is moot point since the anime industry left Cardiff behind years ago.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s