The
ShoWest Must Go On ... These
are grim times for theater owners.
Unless
you've been living in a cave, you're well aware that 2005 not only marked a downturn
in overall revenues, it also experienced significant erosion in the big screen
audience. Then there's a consolidation in theater ownership that's put thousands
of people back into the job market this year.
Additionally
there were rumblings and a few experiments involving simultaneous debuts of new
films in theaters, home video and Pay-cable. The blurring of traditional windows
is viewed as the single greatest threat to the future of movie going in the exhibition
community and a high priority topic in other sectors of the business.
And
if that wasn't sufficient for the big picture, there remains the whole issue of
transitioning to digital cinema. It's evolved over the years from theory to inevitability
but other concerns have pushed it a couple of slots lower on the priority list.
Nonetheless it's marching along with discussions of standards, who will pay the
freight and how to convert existing theaters. Today there are barely more than
100 d-cinemas domestically, but tomorrow
There
are others concerns that range from concession stand sales to pre-show programming
but it's fair to say that all these issues pretty much obscure whatever bright
spots might be on the horizon.
Next
week the annual ShoWest convention will unspool in Las Vegas and the person you
don't want to be is John Fithian, president of the National Association
of Theater Owners. On Tuesday morning his task is to rally the troops with a state
of the art and commerce speech that will struggle to put the best face on what
lies ahead.
It's
not that these addresses have always seen the world through rosy colored glasses.
Fithian's predecessor Bill Kartozian was critical of movie chains that
were in head-to-head competition and invoked the commandment that "thou shalt
not Ontario," a reference to competitive megaplexes that were built within
spitting distance of each other in Southern California.
Last
year Fithian attempted to make lemonade from the fact that frequent film goers
- people that went to the multiplex at least once a month - were going even more
often. He also made mention that respondents in their poll that characterized
themselves as "nevers" or "rarelys" were also on the rise.
While the media generally bit hard on his spin, exhibitors were distressed that
their audience was shrinking in numbers and there was a potential manifest destiny
that favored younger viewers and that was alienating older customers.
The
mainstream of American film exhibition centers on movies from what used to be
referenced as the "seven sisters" - the major Hollywood studios. The
modern version of that oligopoly embraces most of those antecedents, the specialized
and not so specialized companies owned by those entities and DreamWorks. Last
year those ranks shrunk when a Sony consortium acquired MGM (though it appears
to be officially back in business as a separate distribution company following
a news conference this week) and DreamWorks was bought by Paramount.
In
2005, the majors (and their affiliates) accounted for about 93.6% of the roughly
$8.9 billion spent at North American movie theaters. By far the most significant
independent company was Lions Gate with a 3.2% market share followed by the fledgling
Weinstein Company with a little more than .5%.
If
you're more than 25-years-old and happen not to live in one of the 25 biggest
cities in America, you're viewing choices can be especially dire particularly
during the summer months. Hollywood, as reflected by its release schedule, has
virtually abandoned what it views as an older movie goer. It's certainly a commonly
held belief that there will always be an audience among teens, youngsters and
twentysomethings. Movies provide an escape from the home and a comparatively speaking
cheaper date experience than professional sports or an upscale restaurant.
The
daunting question is why anyone would give up on a sector of the population that
used to have the viewing habit. Millions have been spent on encouraging people
into cinemas and are now being squandered on these same people as they age. And
in the next decade, Americans will continue to see a shift toward older consumers.
Theater
operators don't have any say in what they put on screen. They don't sit in on
studio story meetings and don't generally invest in film production. The rare
instances where that rules been broached have produced less than stellar results.
As
operations have evolved from single screens to behemoths with as many as 30 auditoriums,
the option of choice for film bookers has evaporated. The grim reality is that
one has to play everything in general release and there's rarely enough product
to sustain the larger edifices among the 36,000 plus screens in the domestic marketplace.
In the cautious atmosphere that pervades this sector of the industry, the few
new builds that are occurring appear to be settling in on 12-screen multiplexes
on average.
Like
the film studios, there used to be seven major national circuits. With the merger
of AMC and Loews in 2005, that number has been reduced to two - the new AMC and
Regal Cinemas. Each of these circuits accounts for more than 20% of theater sales,
followed by a handful of operators that have a market share between 4% and 7%
that include Canada's Cineplex, Georgia-based Carmike, Cinemark out of Texas and
National Amusements based outside Boston.
Then
there are a lot of regional players that matter in places such as California,
Arizona and parts of the mid-west but account for about 1% of the national picture.
Landmark, the only national chain for specialized movies, sometimes rises close
to 2% of the marketplace.
Objectively,
there's something akin to a Darwinian evolution in both the distribution and exhibition
communities. The surviving regional and niche players that own theaters are holding
fast largely because film bookers know they have a better sense of the peculiarities
of their audiences.
Theoretically,
ShoWest ought to bring production, distribution and exhibition together in one
giant and cathartic experience. I have a vague recollection of this but not in
the past decade. The majority of the studios used to sponsor lunches with double
and triple banks of movie luminaries coming to the dais to put in a good word
for their upcoming movies.
Now
event organizers are lucky to involve more than one or two of the major players
and this year have coaxed Disney to screen its forthcoming Pixar-produced Cars
and get Warner Bros. to put on an event. But in general ShoWest doesn't make
economic or strategic sense for distributors that can more effectively and frugally
put on their own show and know the 25 to 50 people they need to invite.
There
remain issues that the exhibition community - with or without distribution participation
- might confront if ShoWest were a true convention. Several years back I asked
a senior officer at one of the major theater chains how exactly NATO elected its
board and even he was unclear about the process. Ultimately he just shrugged and
said that anyone foolish enough to be an officer was more than welcome.
There
is no visible campaigning at the event and apart from a few self-congratulatory
awards and the opening session with Fithian and Motion Picture Association of
American chairman Dan Glickman, the agenda is ultra flexible. There are
screenings, panels, a trade show and of course myriad social events but any sense
of a program reflective of immediate concerns is negligible.
How
quickly a film segues from theaters to DVD is the hottest issue and no doubt Fithian
will make that a principle part of his address. The old chestnut about theatrical
exhibition being the engine that drives all other film revenue streams isn't weathering
well with the passage of time. Ancillaries now account for the majority of a picture's
gross and theatrical exhibition is the least profitable component of the equation.
The majors want
the shortest theatrical window possible that can generate maximum box office and
translate into the optimum gross from secondary exploitation. Finding that perfect
balance is simply a matter of time and will occur whether theater circuits assist
in the process or not. The only viable economic solution may be for the studios
to ramp up its investment in theaters.
Ticket
sales remain the top revenue generator for the theater chains but there's no question
other areas are being enhanced in an effort to shore up declines in its primary
business. NATO estimates that the average admission price in 2005 was $6.41. A
study it does not publish is what the typical patron spends at the candy counter.
However, according to an exhibitor from one of the significant chains that figure
is about $2.78, or less than what most theaters charge for a bag of popcorn and
a drink.
If there's
any question about whether the value of a movie ticket is line with its cost,
you can multiply by 10 to get a reading about how movie goers relate cost to satisfaction
at the concession stand. There's been sufficient ink spilled about the enormous
mark up for such staples as popcorn and soft drinks at movie theaters and no amount
of combo deals can ease the perception of a rip off. Like DVDs for distributors,
the concession stand is the most lucrative profit center for exhibitors and they're
smarting from significant drops in the ratio between the average ticket price
and the average amount spent on comestibles.
Then
there's the thorny issue of pre-show advertising packages. If you talk to distributors
they will provide data that demonstrates patrons don't like this relatively new
wrinkle. However, exhibitors have their own studies that prove it's gaining acceptance.
Regardless
of who one believes, it's an area that's just about reached capacity. According
to one industry source once these programs exceed 25 minutes, they begin to eat
into the number of daily screenings. There's a finite number of advertisers one
can cram in and no more, so as they say in the industry, it a revenue source that
has fully matured.
According
to the MPAA last year's domestic box office fell 5.7% to $8.99 billion. For the
record my calculations vary by less than 1% at $8.91 billion for a 5.4% decline.
Of course, the MPAA claims its number does not include revenues from Canada and
that is patently ridiculous.
Its
report also attempts to put the best face on the situation with data and charts
extolling the record number of $200 million grossing films and five-year boosts
in the average return per member release.
However,
the more nettlesome aspect of last year is that the critical wrap up pieces all
seemed to conclude that the quality of movies showed a marked improvement from
2004. That's of course a judgment call that cannot be empirically quantified but
if it has even a shred of credibility, one has to wonder why fewer people went
to the movies. Until that thorny question is addressed and resolved it's fair
to anticipate that things will not improve for any part of the industry.
March 10, 2006
-
by Leonard Klady