Boy meets girl: Dating. What's that? At this point n my life it is something that I actu- ally don't do much of. But, nonethe- less I hear that there are people who do partake in this pastime on occa- sion. And from what they tell me it is not fun. Do people really date anymore'? It seems that what we call dating in our generation is vastly different from what our parents did. My mom has all tese stories about her college boy- friend who would follow the tradi- tionally accepted dating procedures without fail. You know what I mean, F *r pek-n-heche kss F JustaJ Thought call her up and prearrange a time, then *lke her out to dinner/movie/sockhop/ whatever and actually pay, then walk her home and give her the typical peck-on-the-cheek. kiss. This has never happened to me and I think my mom set me up for disappointment by telling me her sto- ries. It seems to me that what we have today is a completely different type of "dating." Now guys are not the only nes who can call to ask for a date, here isn't necessarily prearrange- ment, often the outing centers around beer and we won't even get into the kiss. Okay, let's talk about the kiss a second. Recently a friend was ex- plaining to me the tortures of the moment just before the first kiss. He described a situation for me in which he agonizes for what seems like hours ven if it really isn't, trying to read the signs: Does she rub his hand with her thumb or does she stand with her arms crossed? Does she get close enough to be kissed or does she keep enough space between them for a whole foot- ball team? He explained that under these con- ditions one couldn't possible be turned on. Doesn't this defeat the point? Kiss- g isn't supposed to be a hellish experience, it's supposed to be fun. The first kiss issue doesn't seem to me to be a big deal for some people I know who are completely satisfied with random hook-ups. These folks go out with the sole purpose of mak- ing that physical connection (if you know what I mean). So let's move on. It seems like the lines between what is a date continually get blurred. S happen to have more male friends than female, so I am always having dinner or going to social events with random men. But, this does not mean I am dating no matter how much my mother insists it does. My mother says that anytime I go out with a guy, I should call it a date. I don't think she really understands that there are other factors which should be considered, like mutual at- traction. But, maybe if I followed her standards I wouldn't consider myself such a loser in this area. There seems to be one key prob- lem with the whole dating arena; no one knows what the hell they are doing. It's not like back in the days of our parents when the guidelines were clear and accepted. Men called 'omen, women waited by the phone. So, I think there should be rules. That way all of us who grapple with the questions about should we call or not, should we try to kiss, do we pay and all those other quandaries -which ruin the actual date for us anyway, would have something to go on. I don't even care what the rules are, I just want to know them. This way none of us will have to spend unnec- *sary time worry about the details. I had a conversation with a friend at a party one night about our method for finding men. Her solution was that we just go up to the person we are interested in, point and say "You." Seem{ s simple enough. My only ques- tinvn is 'iuhnt ch-rnlrl vwnwnr rPC'nnca= h-i I I I 72 4Jss, By ALEXANDRA TWIN aving just sat through a three- minute trailer for a foreign film that sounded some- thing like "geritol," I was pretty much ready for the regular film to begin. Also, my friend kept nudging me and saying "Geritol!" much to the dismay of most of the people sitting near us. Quickly, the lights came back up and people in tuxes began passing around popcorn buckets, asking for money. I politely refused; the high-fat content of popcorn is appalling, besides, we already had a jumbo bucket. Then, suddenly, it dawned on me: there's no popcorn in there. They are actually asking for money, after we've already paid four bucks to get in. The nerve. But then something else occurred to me, how the hell can you possibly maintain a theater the size and scope of the Michigan, play "Geritol" or "Germinal" or whatever and make money? The answer is, you can't. While not in immediate financial distress, the Michigan Theater, Ann Arbor's only.substantial not-for-profit movie house, is going through some- thing of a perpetual "depend on the kindness of strangers" motif. While pretty heavily funded by groups such as the National Endowment for the Arts and the Michigan Council for the Arts and Human Affairs, the theater does rely on fundraising, such as the Fail/Spring popcorn bucket drives, for about 15 to 20 percent of its annual budget, reports Executive Director Russell Collins. That's a lot of nickels and pennies. For a theater that's due to celebrate its 67th year of operation; you've gotta wonder how they've been doing it all this time. One also can't help but specu- late as to why there may be a problem now. A little history ... January 5, 1928 marked the open- ing of The Michigan, a silent movie palace and vaudeville house that boasted an audience capacity of 1800 and a design to rival any upscale Broadway theater. Silent for a year, the theater flourished with the advent of the "talkies," motion pictures with sound, and soon found its place as the most prominent of all Southeastern Michigan theaters. With its striking, 35-foot long marquee supporting a 55- foot "Michigan" sign and 3000 lights, the theater stood as something of a beacon of East Liberty: glamorous, glitzy and enticing. Inside, a plush lobby decked in baroque drinking fountains and mir- rored walls led to a grand, sweeping staircase and finally to a balcony over- looking theenormous screen.Designed by Maurice Finkel, the theater repre- sented the Romanesque and Moorish styles. It was built for $600,000 and remained in that capacity until 1942, when it was redesigned to look more "modern" and "commercial"' And commercial it was. Although always supportive of and interested in a bevy of stage and musical acts, by the time the late '30s rolled around, the theater's main fealty was to commer- cial film. Paul Robeson, Helen Hayes, Louis Armstrong, Ethel Barrymore and Bela Lugosi may have all played there, but so did just about every mainstream commercial film of the era. Many were accompanied by lavish orchestras, a rare treat that continues to dissipate year to year as the price for such en- deavors ascends. As operated by multiple movie- chain owner W.S. Butterfield, the the- ater was primarily a financial suc- cess. Yet, with the inception of the multi-plex, that wonderfully fabulous creation that allowed for local view- ers to squeeze into a variety of dirty, cramped theaters and choose from six, eight, 10 different films at a time, regardless of quality, theaters like the Michigan suffered. Arguably, film as a medium also suffered. The TV age coupled with a general declining interest in film as the primary and most accessible art form may also be attributed to the theater's then decline. In addition, the expansion and ac- cessibility of theaters like Briarwood, Fox Village, Showcase and the State, as well as the many campus cinema groups, had and continues to offer the Michigan some solid competition. Director Collins attributes this to a shift in the perception of film rather than as a result of the growing range of films available. "Film used to be the alternative art form. In the late'SOs and '60s, it's what students did to expand their horizons. The college student of the '90s has less interest in film as Art." Whatever the case may be, if the theater reached its peak in the '40s and 'SOs, it definitely saw the down- side in the '70s. By 1979, Butterfield was ready to sell. After overhearing a private con- versation between Butterfield and another investor, regarding the possi- bility of turning the theater into a food court/mall, a group of musicians and others began working together to de- vise a way of buying and saving the theater. Motivated by as much of a desire to save the theater's organ (of which a number of them were play- ers) as to save the theater itself, the group formed the Michigan Theater Foundation, a strictly not-for-profit corporation. With the help of then mayor Lew Belcher, the group even- tually did buy the theater. "Butterfield just walked out and gave us the keys." reports organist and board member Henry Aldridge. Ini- tially booking films and shows that interested them, the theater soon began to develop and thrive, building up a steady patronage and reputation that eventually allowed the group to re- furbish the theater, in 1986. to near its original visage. Today the Michigan seats 1710, garners a yearly audience of 180,000 and is as likely to offer an evening with Mel Torme as an evening with "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." It features the occasional, orches- tra-accompanied nostalgia piece, like last year's presentation of D.W. Griffith's "Way Down East" and the upcoming pre-Halloween "Nosferatu" in addition to live organ music every Friday and Saturday night before mov- ies. It offers plays and concerts, dolby/ stereo sound and ushers in tuxedos. It hosts independent film festivals, supporting everything from the current Spike and Mike' s AllSick and Twisted animation festival to the Spring's na- tionally-respected 16mm Ann Arbor Film Festival,which boasts entries from all across the country and even the world. "It's got state-of-the-artequipment, above average sound.really competent projectionists and that enormous screen," enthuises festival director Vicki Honeyman. "I don't even know if other communities have anything like it." The theater has premiered every Hal Hartley film, every Gus Van Sant film, most of John Sayles, Allison Anders, Henry Jaglom and Steven Soderberg's works. It has offered "The Crying Game," "The Piano" and "My Life As A Dog." It has paid tribute to the likes of Orson Welles, Stanley Kubrick, John Ford and Federico Fellini, to name a few, in conjunction with the University's department of film and video. It has also premiered a few films by local filmmakers, includ- ing "Camus' Shoes," "When to Go" and last year's "Harvest Moon." If all these names sound familiar, but a little obscure, they are. The the- ater which once showed a considerable number of big-budget Hollywood pro- ductions and even more notoriously bad "B" films is now exclusively con- cerned with the promotion of quality independent films. "Frankly, we can't afford the ex- pensive films," says Aldridge, "and that's not really what we're interested in. We want to show the most interest- ing, challenging films that are differ- ent from what you're gonna see at your standard theater." "It's very critical," asserts Frank See MICHIGAN, page 4 Selected Upcoming Events (October) The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover (1989) Startling, original tale of domi- neering gangster and his sulty wife. October 6. Michael Nyman band Live on Stage October 8, 8:00. Live on stage October 21, 8:00. community support hile not strictly devoted to the promotion of independent film, (the theater did house the mid-west premieres of both "The Player" and "The Accidental Tourist"), the Michigan The Campion Sisters Latcho Drom (1993) Four shorts from Jane and one A panoramic view of the lives of from her sister Anna.