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SURVIVAL GUIDE

An extremely helpful Survival Guide supplied by one our most ardent supports. Take it away Mr Steve Skeet (who we suspect writes novels in his spare time). There are some handy tips in here so take a deep breath and start reading.


PART 1: PRE-SHOW

1) DRESS COMFORTABLY: You're about to spend 24 hours in an old-school theatre. Dress down. While Pyjamas and dressing gowns are required attire for many, anything loose and warm will suffice. While the seats are comfortable, jeans will chafe like an S.O.B after ten hours or so, and anything too light and you'll be doing a quick impression of Han Solo's Tauntaun by 3AM. And yes, it's Halloween, so if you want to throw on a costume, go for it. Just think about practicality. Your homemade. Robocop outfit may look awesome, but will probably trigger a psychotic episode by hour 18.

Of course, if you want to turn an old, fuzzy quilt into one of the Seasame Street YipYip Aliens, I'll buy you as many Jellytip Trumpets as you can eat.

2) POWER NAP: It's going to be a long day. Get up late, catch some Z's before the show, or suffer the consequences. (I can't sleep during the day. I ALWAYS suffer the consequences.)

3) SHOWERS AND DEODERANT : 250 people in the same small area for 24 hours creates a foul stench known as Nerd Funk. My wife assures me it causes small dogs to run away yelping and is known to set of smoke detectors. This will happen regardless of how good everyone's bodily hygiene is prior to the show. But let's try to minimise it, huh? Get the 24-Hour intensive stuff. Use it more than once. You never know, the Lynx Effect might be real and you'll end the Marathon with underwear-clad models swarming you. I wouldn't bet on it, though.

4) SHOWERS AND DEODORANT : I know I just mentioned this, but it's so important, I thought I should say it twice.

5) DEODORANT: And this is REALLY important.

6) TRY TO PERSAUDE AS MANY FRIENDS AS POSSIBLE TO ATTEND: Most will think you're insane. But you probably are, so no big.

7) ABSTAIN: Trust me, don't go drinking before the show. You'll never make it to the end, and even if you do, you'll probably turn into an obnoxious dipwad. It's a 3PM start, anyway, so wait until afterwards. Half a beer on a days worth of sleep deprivation and you'll think you're smoking the psychedelic remains of Timothy Leary. (And don't indulge in a little medicinal what-have-you. Some of these films are funny or freaky enough stone-cold sober. Watching LADY TERMINATOR while high will probably cause you to giggle yourself into a coma.)

8) EAT SOMETHING!: Sure, there's a dinner break. But the closest Micky D's is half-way down Great North Road, and there's few choices for late-night snacking around. Trust me, the pie-warmer at the local service station looks pretty damn tempting at 3AM. Eat a decent, filling lunch and stick a non-messy sandwich in your bag for later on. You'll need it.

PART 2: ARRIVAL

1) GET THERE EARLY: So the show starts at 3, right? Should be easy enough to show up a few minutes before and slide on it, right?

Wrong. Historically, the line to get in is half-way down the block with an hour to showtime. Beanbags and out-of-shape filmheads tend to take up a lot of space. You'll want to get there early to stake out a good spot in the theatre, and believe me, the conversations you'll have while waiting for the doors to open can be some of the more interesting you'l have all year. Plus watching Avondale's locals watching us with slightly P-fuelled paranoia is also fun.

2) PICK YOUR PARKING SPOT CAREFULLY!: The Hollywood is situated right next to a small dairy, run by a man we fondly refer to as Sanjeev the Parking Nazi. His FIVE MINUTE PARKING ONLY! signs go out the moment he spots someone in a dressing gown and never, EVER leave. Park in front of his store and he WILL be on the phone to the council in 45 seconds. He WIL have you ticketed, he WILL have you towed.

He WON'T get me to buy so much as a pack of gum off him. Jerkoff.

If you've got a friend (or significant other who thinks you're a colossal nerd for attending the show), get them to do a stop-and-drop. Experienced Marathon-ers can unload a car full of supplies in 3 minutes. For bonus points, pile them in front of the dairy and see if he tries to get your backpack towed away.

3) CHOOSE YOUR SPOT CAREFULLY. By which I mean, don't sit too close to me, as I turn into a hyperactive mofo in between films. You feet WILL be stepped on at least once. Lucky I'm a lightweight.

4) THE BEANBAG ARMY: The first 70 tickets give their purchases an all-access pass to the floor space on the ground floor. This area can get congested, so respect your neighbours. By which I mean, should you find the person next to you has fallen asleep and is using your leg as a pillow, try gently nudging them back to their own space. Beating them around the head and neck with a family-sized bag of slightly-stale Candy Corn is usually considered Bad Form.

Also, if your beanbag is roughly the size of Mount Rushmore, scout out the area before moving in. You'll either gently concuss someone, or put it down on a midget. Either of these things is bad, especially for the midget.

Oh, and rugs aren't beanbags. The Hollywoods wooden floors take a dim view of unprotected asses, and will turn your extremities into Buttock Tartare pretty quickly.

5) LEAVE AN AISLE: 24 Hours of V, coffee, water and soft drinks will play havoc with the average bladder. Very few people can co-ordinate themselves with Ant's punishing schedule. Having to clamber over a dozen sprawled out people to reach the door will result in much aggravation, and no little amount of bruising. Beanbag Crew, try to leave an aisle running fom each entrance to the stage. One of Ant's posse. (Krew? Homies?) will often facilitate this pre-show with hand gesustures, verbal advice and if all else fails, kicking your beanbag across the floor.

6) BRING YOUR TICKET. And if you're a fresh-faced youth, your ID. And ain't playing THE SOUND OF MUSIC here

Or is he?

7) RESPECT THE PREMISES: The Hollywood ain't no Multiplex, armed with a sinfully underpaid staff of workers on dodgy Youth Contracts. We love the Hollywood, and want to be able to return for as many years a possible. Treat the place like your living room.

Wait, bad analogy. I've seen some of your living rooms.

Treat it like your MOTHERS living room. Clean up your mess every few films if you can, or be prepared to clean a lot of crap up afterwards. A simple empty Foodtown bag can make for a happier, cleaner area. Doubly so in the stalls. Who's the Hollywood's cleaning crew? WE ARE!

Man, I sound like I'm narrating a Training Video for Burger King. But you get the gist.

And while we're on the subject guys, can we try to not turn the mens room into Lake Hollywood this year? I swear I have no idea how we manage to get the floor as wet as it sometimes is. I'm thinking of trading my slippers for a pair of gumboots. I can't speak for the ladies room, but I imagine it's immaculate, sweet smelling, and full of fresh flowers and basketfuls of kittens.

7) BUY SNACKS!: The Hollywood's prices are a hell of a lot better than most theatres and the more support we can give them, the better. The coffee is normally pretty good, too.

8) SAY HI TO YOUR NEIGHBOURS: Trust me, by the time the traditional 3AM brain-breaker flick screens, you may need extra support.


PART 3: SHOWTIME!

1) CHIT-CHAT (aka SHOW A LITTLE RESPECT): People ask me why I want to spend 24 hours watching bad films. I always tell them, some of the films screened will be better than anything released to a multiplex anytime soon. And generally speaking, the Marathon crowd knows which films are the ones that deserve our attention, and don't require a running commentary.

People want to see these films. If you have something to say about it, wait for the break. There's a lot of films, and therefore a lot of breaks. Want to discuss the socio-political ramifications of the tense political thriller we just watched? Keep it for the break. Want to have a chat about a womans place in fifties film-noir. Keep it for the break! Want to discuss the technical specs of the Sub-Machine gun employed in that flick where Zombies fought Ghost Samurais during the Korean War? KEEP IT FOR THE BREAK!

Other films are somewhat less respectful of their audience. The cheap-ass sci-fi, the T&A sexploitation comedy, the kung-fu flick. These are films rife with unintentional comedy and are begging for a few choice quips and comments.

And if you were watching them at my house, go right ahead. I encourage it.

BUT, in a crowded theatre, that could get old REAL fast. Your friends may think you a comedy genius, but the people three rows ahead don't need to hear it. Keep it audible to only them, and we'll all get on just fine.

And as Ant says, hooting, hollering and cheering can be a great reaction to a flick. The massive cheer for Arnie in COMMANDO, for instance. I'll take one group reaction of EWWWW over nine hours of some guy shouting GYMKATA! repeatedly any day.

2) MINDLESS CHIT-CHAT: That said, having a conversation about something mid-film is just as annoying at the Marathon as in a multiplex. If you have something to discuss with a friend, or if the film is boring you, take it outside. Go to the lobby. Take a walk. Chat about you plans for next weekend in the auditorioum and someone (Probabaly Ant) is going to shush you.

BUT: If someone is being painful next to you, be polite in your shushing. Snapping at them isn't going to help. Just ask them quietly to keep it down. Hopefully they will. We're our own ushers here, peeps.

3) TORCHES ARE YOUR FRIEND: A torch is the most essential item for the show, doubly so in the downstairs section. It'll prevent a lot of stubbed toes and stepped-on feet. Just use it carefully. (Aim it at the floor, not at some poor schmucks eyes. And don't point it at the screen, or someone will probably introduce you to the concept of a Flashlight Colonic.)

4) CELLPHONES ARE NOT: Mid-Movie Texting is best done in the lobby. Or in the street. Or not at all, preferably. And if you phone rings during the show, you will be glared at at the very least. Switch it off, or at least to vibrate if you think switch off your phone will give the the XT-DT's.

5) WHAT TO DO WITH LASER POINTERS: Leave the fucking things at home! (Preferably behind the wheels of your car, just before you reverse out of your driveway.) We're lucky that no-one has brought the Shiny Schlong of Satan to a Marathon yet. Let's try to keep it that way.

6) REHYDRATE, REHYDRATE, REHYDRATE: Water is good. Take a water bottle. Two if you can manage it. It'll get you through the wee small hours in better shape. (If sending you on far too many expeditions to the Land of the Little Boys Room.)

7) PARACETEMOL AND ANTACIDS ARE ALSO GOOD: You wouldn't think watching movies could be hard on the body. It can. Oh, how it can. You may need either or both of these. Go for the chewables.

8a) SNACK ETIQUETTE (GENERAL): No hot food in the theatre! At all. And bring something nourishing, like a few bananas, as only a fool tries to face the marathon on Starbursts and V alone.

8b) SNACK ETIQUETTE (POTATO CHIPS): Time for a contentious subject. You're in this for the long haul. There's the aforementioned - No Hot Food policy in place. You will need to onload snackage at some stage. But in the wee smalls, when quiet descends on the place, chip packets suddenly become the bane of our Benevolent Overlords life. So if possible, try to think ahead. Open that thing before the lights go down. Avoid the Stealth Grab, which simply makes the rustling go on for long, agonising seconds. Get in quick, grab a handful and get out. If someone still complains about the noise, you should practise not eating so loudly before next year.

Or you could super-organised and bring a few of those zip-lock plastic bags. Dump all the chips in pre-show and ditch the Foil Bag of Aggravating Rustles.

Or, y'know, buy a tube of Pringles. They may only bare a passing resemblance to a chip made from a real potato, but the tube is quieter, and the Texas BBQ flavour is frickin' delicious.

9) SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK, BUT IF YOU HAVE TOO, BE WEAK: Just don't let Ant see you. He has a cattle prod, or so I'm told.

In truth though, staying awake the whole 24 Hours is recommended. Oh, what sights you'll see and what hallucinations you'll have!

10) DON'T SKIP BREAKFAST: That well-earned hot meal is vital to facing down the last seven or so hours of the show. And the line forms fast, so wait until I'm over there, then run to get behind me. I can move like greased lightning when I'm hungry.

11) DON'T PANIC!: At some stage of the night, the film you're watching will appear to make no sense whatsoever. You're not tripping, it's just that there's ALWAYS a film that makes no sense.

Unless you're tripping,. Then it'll make perfect sense.

12) PREPARE TO BE OFFENDED, BUT DON'T LET IT OFFEND YOU: Some of Ant's choice are pretty raw/filthy/twisted as a mofo. Walkouts are rare, but have happened. Just go with the flow and keep repeating to your self:

It's only a movie! It's only a movie! It's only a movie

ABOUT INCESTOUS SCOTTISH CANNIBAL NUDISTS! ARRRRRGGHHH!

And you'll be fine.


PART 4: POST-SHOW
Only one real rule here: CLEAN UP YOUR CRAP!

See: RESPECT THE PREMISES.

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