So, recently, I’ve had an epiphany:
3D movies suck.
I know. Some epiphany. Everyone can tell you that 3D movies suck. Most times, you’re paying an extra three bucks for crappy visual effects and shitty sunglasses that you don’t even get to keep. I mean, they might overcharge you like no one’s business at the snack counter for a box of Milkduds, but godammit, at least I enjoy those Milkduds. Honestly, I’m not even that impressed by the good 3D, you know, Avatar and whatnot. (So, suck it, James Cameron, and your whole ‘cheapening the medium’ BS: http://io9.com/5624890/james-cameron-has-no-love-for-piranha-3+d. I don’t want your vision. Take your vision elsewhere. Like Mars.)
Anyway, I’ve finally figured out who’s to blame for my disappointment with 3D. You won’t guess it, trust me.
Honey, I Shrunk The Audience.
That’s right. Honey, I Shrunk the Audience, the 3D movie “ride” based on Honey, I Shrunk the Kids from Disneyland. Cause, look, here’s how the ride goes: when the now-gigantic dog is supposed to be sneezing all over you, the ride operators mist the audience with a little bit of water or something, which is both funny and gross. And when mice are supposed to be running loose in the house, they have some kind of air blowing at your ankles, making you feel like mice really could be running around. It’s more interactive, see? It’s not just the visuals. So, I think every time I go to see a 3D movie, subconsciously, that’s what I end up expecting: something that really makes me part of the story. Cause, I’ll tell you: I was not one of those sorry sacks weeping about the fictional existence of Pandora after I left the theatre. I mean, for God’s sake. Avatar was pretty enough, but seriously? I wasn’t amazed by this whole world that so many (cough cough sci-fi haters cough cough) people were enthralled with.
This is what I want: the next Jason movie (cause you know there’ll be another one—maybe Jason Goes Back In Time or Friday the 13th, BC or something) will come out in 3D. I will buy my ridiculously overpriced Milkduds and probably a large Pepsi. I will sit down in my seat. Jason will hack someone’s head off with his machete. Blood will appear to be flying at me. A fine mist of water will hit my forehead, simulating the feeling of blood. Maybe the seat will rock suddenly when an unknown figure is reaching for the heroine’s shoulder. Maybe you’ll smell pine or grass or something when the heroine’s running through the forest—although, you’ll probably want to be careful with the olfactory sense during a horror film. Wouldn’t want the audience to start reenacting the puking scene from Stand By Me or anything. That wouldn’t be pleasant. On the other hand, showings of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie and The Chocolate Factory or even just Chocolat will, of course, have to have the smell of chocolate pumped in. The concessions stand will make a killing.
And that, my friends, is something I’d pay fifteen bucks for. Until that happens, leave my 2D movies alone!
