Showing posts with label Pandemic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pandemic. Show all posts

Friday, June 2, 2023

Quote of the Day (John Fithian, on What the Last Few Years Revealed About Films’ ‘Theatrical Window’)

“There was a lot of pressure coming into the pandemic and during the pandemic. And release models totally changed. A lot of movies went only to streaming services. A lot of movies went simultaneously to theaters and streaming services….

“But what happened is that a whole bunch of data came out of the pandemic about these theories of the theatrical window. One, it was quite clear when you compare the movies during the pandemic, the ones that had an exclusive theatrical window did much better theatrically, but then also did better when it got to the home. Two, we learned that piracy is exacerbated by shrinking the theatrical window. If movies are only in cinemas, the only way you can pirate a movie is with a recording device. And the quality level is not great. When a movie gets released to the home, a pristine digital, easily replicable, easy-to-distribute-around-the-world copy becomes available. So you’re literally cannibalizing movie theater sales from the very first day.”— John Fithian, former president and chief executive of the National Association of Theater Owners (NATO), quoted by Nicole Sperling, “The Movies, a ‘Marketplace of Free Ideas,” The New York Times, May 21, 2023

For the longest time, I have been fascinated not only by the making of movies but by the business of them. I wondered during the pandemic if many movie theaters would survive. (One, located not far from me in Bergen County, NJ, did not, and I am sure that many others would not have but for $2 billion in tax relief secured during the pandemic.)

I am still not sure I agree with Fithian’s assertion during his interview with Ms. Sperling that movies targeting seniors are performing similarly to how they did before the pandemic. But I am glad that cinemas are managing to stay on their feet again.

Large screens at home offer viewings that prior generations of movie lovers never had. But films in theaters still provide an experience that is ideal: not just screen sizes that still exceed what can be found at home, but viewing within a community of others, with your undivided attention given over for a couple of hours, the way the creative professionals who put it together want it from you.

Friday, February 3, 2023

Quote of the Day (Brilliant, Smolinski, Danzig and Lipkin, on Animal Virus Spillovers and Pandemic Prevention)

“Population growth in both animals and humans, industrialization, urbanization, and modernization have raised the risk that diseases will jump [from animals] to humans and spread. But modern advances have also given the world new tools to prevent, track, and contain infections, allowing us to stop spillover from turning into global chaos.

“In other words, spillover and outbreaks are inevitable, but pandemics are not. Humanity's greatest task now, therefore, is to do everything possible to sever the link between the former and the latter. It is a task made easier than ever by modern science, yet also one that requires crucial elements sorely lacking in the age of COVID-19—speed, cooperation, and trust.  Without overcoming these deficits, the chain will remain unbroken.”—Larry Brilliant, Mark Smolinski, Lisa Danzig, and W. Ian Lipkin, “Inevitable Outbreaks: How to Stop an Age of Spillovers From Becoming an Age of Pandemics,” Foreign Affairs, January/February 2023

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Quote of the Day (Emily St. John Mandel, Anticipating a Civilization Gripped by a Pandemic)

“No more diving into pools of chlorinated water lit green from below. No more ball games played out under floodlights. No more porch lights with moths fluttering on summer nights. No more trains running under the surface of cities on the dazzling power of the electric third rail. No more cities.”— Canadian novelist and essayist Emily St. John Mandel, Station Eleven (2014)

Two years ago this week, the New York metropolitan area prepared to shut down as COVID-19 spread.  Few people could have predicted the pandemic’s impact on American healthcare, business, technology, culture, politics—and, in the fissures it created among friends and family, even relationships.

We did not quite reach the nightmare that Emily St. John Mandel wrote in her novel Station Eleven. But, even as New York and other cities now prepare, tentatively, to loosen restrictions and “reopen,” who can say what may happen in the near future?

The COVID-19 variants Delta and Omicron should have taught people that, just as animals can evolve, so can viruses. 

But from the first, a hard core of Americans have engaged in successive forms of denial about the coronavirus: that it even exists, that it’s not as bad as others from the last decade or so, that it’s been confined to a certain geographic area, that social distancing, masks or even vaccines aren't needed to combat its spread, or that it could it couldn't damage one’s self or one’s family.

Pray that we have something like a return to the cherished sights and sounds of civilization celebrated in the passage starting this post. But above all, pray that neither COVID-19 nor any future disease surprises us again.

(The accompanying photo of Emily St. John Mandel was taken on Dec. 2, 2017, by librarie mollat.)

Monday, March 15, 2021

COVID-19: An Impressionistic History of the First Year of the Emergency

A year ago this week, the reality of COVID-19 hit full force for Americans with the declaration of a national emergency and a ban on non-US citizens traveling from Europe.

Virtually no aspect of life—at the workplace, at home, at “third places” that bound together society—went unaffected.

During this time, while one day seemed to blur into the next, a whole way of life was being transformed over the long term.

These are my recollections of what I directly experienced or heard from others in the Northeast, one of the original pandemic areas in the U.S. I am writing not just for future readers who won’t be able to understand what happened, but also for those now who have lost some memories of aspects of our lives in this time.

In Manhattan, where I was working then, company such as mine watched, with growing concern, in late February and early March as the number of cases and deaths rose. In short order:

*Industry members suddenly backed out of events, afraid to travel by plane or linger in enclosed spaces for prolonged periods.

*Hand sanitizers began to appear on counters all across offices.

*Workers looked askance at anyone veering within six feet of their desks, rolled their eyes if they heard of a colleague exposed to the virus coming into the office, and came into the office in decreasing numbers as management offered the option of working from home.

*Management, after listening to national and local officials, announced, after a day of testing, that employees would work from home till further notice.

*Local newspapers began reporting on how your town was a “hot spot” or “epicenter,” even amid a state that was one of the first—and worst—hit by the pandemic.

*Morning buses, once filled to capacity—even sometimes with commuters standing in the aisles—were now all but empty, even during rush hour.

*Company executives told employees that they were living in “unprecedented times. Nobody could have foreseen this.”

*Employees speculated whether major recent expenses, such as furniture bought for a new move, might have been well-advised, given the subsequent hit to business.

*Employees in mass Zoom sessions looked like The Hollywood Squares, only with considerably more unglamorous people in casual wear replacing the celebrities on the old game show.

*The President repeatedly told the nation that the pandemic “is going to go away.”

*Seemingly everywhere, in rapid succession, supermarket and retail shelves were progressively emptied—of masks and other personal protective equipment, ventilators, drugs, toilet paper, meat, shoe varieties—and everyone prayed for a vaccine.

*Cursing and screaming matches occurred at supermarkets, as some customers ignored cashiers’ request to wear masks or crowded into the personal space of other customers online.

*Virtual wars erupted on Facebook among longtime friends, with quarrels centering on the true count of COVID deaths.

*Many states allowed liquor sales for fear of withdrawal symptoms by alcoholics, with some governors saying that revenues from marijuana legalization might help offset those lost to COVID-19.

*Obituaries shifted during the week and, in the case of the Sunday paper, greatly expanded in column inches—as the bereaved, with no possibility of receiving visitors at final services, chose to disclose loved ones’ deaths on the day of the week when the items would be most read.

*Manhattan, emptied of tourists and office workers, became a ghost town.

*An obnoxious new phrase was coined—“The New Normal”—even though nobody could figure out what it was or how long it would last.

*Businessmen across multiple professions griped about the unfairness of it all—why they were singled out for closures when other industries weren’t so affected.

* “Curbside pickup” became the only viable option for restaurants that, if not closed completely by state law, were forced to operate with limited capacity.

*Self-checkout lanes became more prominent in supermarkets and discount department stores, supposedly to foster safety—but leaving at least one shopper suspicious that the move was a Trojan horse to reduce the need for cashiers.

*Technostress was experienced in multiple settings—not just at companies forced virtually overnight to crank up digital operations, but also among workers at home, unable to get online or to get rapid help from overwhelmed MIS personnel.

*After a few weeks, executives announced limited furloughs—and the fear grew among remaining employees that more extensive layoffs might be in the offing.

*After a few more months, that fear was realized, as mass terminations occurred—with employees first requested by e-mail to stay near their computers and phones, then informed in calls with executives and human resource consultants hired for just this eventuality that they were being let go.

*Unlike times past, COVID-induced isolation meant that terminated employees could not gather with colleagues for last dinners, drinks, or hugs.

*Former co-workers, with neither a job nor even the need to show up at any office, left the city. And now, you thought more than ever of these Billy Joel lyrics: “Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes/I’m afraid it’s time for goodbye again.”

*Terminated employees over age 50 not only faced massive competition for fewer remaining jobs, but also the daunting prospect of age discrimination.

*Friends begged off appearing on Zoom calls because of “COVID-15,” the weight gained during the emergency because of physical inactivity.

*A new form of litter appeared on city streets: discarded masks.

*Cities and states struggled with how to reopen schools—particularly when young people flouted social-distancing restrictions by holding parties that became super-spreader events.

*Librarians tried to maintain services, even with irate patrons who hurled (possibly COVID-infected) spittle in their direction.

*Friends told you on the phone that, after a few symptoms, they were terrified that they had contracted COVID.

*Relatives wrote from across the Atlantic of fierce outbreaks even in rural villages, as your ancestral homeland went into lockdown.

*Sports were played despite shortened seasons, simulated crowd noise, and contests affected by players who had come down with the disease, despite widely publicized precautionary measures.

*Weddings were delayed, and delayed again.

*Fitness buffs, unable to use gymnasiums, exercised outside, as long as weather permitted.

*Zoom religious services replaced the in-person Sunday masses attended by families for decades, with a progressive hollowing out of interior spiritual peace occurring with each week.

*Situation comedies of one’s childhood—“Bewitched,” “The Munsters” and “The Andy Griffith Show”—became more of a go-to option, a kind of electronic bath in which to wash away anxiety.

*Spring dragged into summer, summer into fall, and fall into winter before vaccines became available, if only on a limited basis.

*Economists began talking up a possible burst of renewed business activity in the near future, while epidemiologists cautioned about letting our collective guard down as mutations of COVID-19 began to spread.

*The end of winter brought talk of “pent-up demand.” But “pent-up frustration” might be an equally accurate description of what so many were feeling.