he results are in for this week's national box office totals, and they're uglier than the Bulgarian boxing squad.
The millennial Olympic Games have wreaked bloody havoc on the movies: last weekend, the box office-led by The Watcher's $5.8 million gross-imploded, recording its lowest totals since the same September period in 1996.
The collapse couldn't come at a worse time. Hollywood is already reeling from an exceptionally weak year: the months before May yielded precisely one blockbuster-Erin Brockovich-and, for all the success of Gladiator, MI2, and The Perfect Storm, this summer was the first since 1991 which failed to post results stronger than the previous season. According to Paul Dergarabedian, president of Exhibitor Relations, Memorial Day-to-Labor Day grosses dwindled four percent, while admissions (the number of tickets sold) slid an alarming seven percent-meaning that higher ticket prices couldn't compensate for poor audience turnout.
And now comes the Olympic onslaught, which has traditionally posed a crippling threat to entertainment media. It's no coincidence that television networks have postponed new programming until October. Box office activity during the summers of 1992 and 1996 suffered against Olympic competition, with the latter season kept afloat only by the FX-fueled successes of Independence Day, Twister, and Mission: Impossible. By the time Jean-Claude van Damme opened some disposable vehicle in mid-September, cumulative national grosses had dipped below $34 million-the tally minted by ID4 within its first three days of release.
Of course, September has historically ranked as the weakest month, what with the distractions of school and fresh television fare. Yet recent years have seen its profile elevated by a single genre: the race-themed buddy picture. In September 1998, New Line released the staggeringly successful racial-divide comedy Rush Hour and Columbia scored the following fall with Blue Streak, another white-guy-nags-black-brother comic thriller. Perfectly rational, then, for Warner Bros. to have launched last weekend's Jamie Foxx picture, Bait, when it did. Surprisingly, audiences didn't bite.
The film's abysmal fiscal take can't be attributed to negative notice-critics similarly reviled Blue Streak. Rush Hour was also conspicuously absent from that year's top 10 lists. Rather, it seems Bait was a direct casuality of the Olympic menace, as its target demographic opted instead for derring-do Down Under.
In fairness, the box office Chernobyl of last weekend isn't solely the work of the Games. A dearth of appealing product also factors significantly: within the past three weeks, studios have unleashed such appalling fare as Whipped, Bait, and the nineteenth Highlander entry. No surprise, then, that last weekend's silver lining was Almost Famous, the critically rhapsodized rock n' roll valentine from Cameron Crowe (Jerry Maguire). In marketing its strongest Academy Award candidate, DreamWorks has learned from the success of American Beauty, which the studio opened in limited release. Famous finally graces the Triangle next Friday. And a host of promising October titles-including Pay It Forward, The Yards and DreamWorks' other Oscar contender, named, optimistically, The Contender-seek to resuscitate the national box office and appease those moviegoers whipped by Whipped and baited by Bait.
The sooner the better.
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