Warren Miller was a rich experience the first ten or fifteen years he did this thing. He was there to narrate them himself, he was very funny, his films had so many things in them that we hadn't seen before (and might not ever have without the films). You laughed, you cried, you felt the warmth of late-in-the-day lodge fireplaces present there in the cinema with you, as well as the over-fluffed-up down-coated shoulders (and hearts) of the people in the seats all around you... By the time you left you not only wanted to drive directly to your ski area and wait for it to start snowing for the year, but you'd really had a fascinating evening, a full rich experience for no other reason than the sheer delight, amazement, and fun of it.
Sometimes when we go on too long (or in this case FAR too long) with something that we once loved and felt very personal and special about...
It's a ritual to go to these now. We (except this year was the last one for me) go to this because we go to this. It's a running cliche of itself. Bigger, better, more has run out a long time ago. We've seen all these passages and players a dozen (if not a thousand) times. MTV shots and MTV shots and MTV shots and the MASSIVE application of obscene amounts of money and equipment (and work) to get a little 'nother clever angle on a two-thousand foot cliff jump... Two hours of shreikingthrobbing brain-numbing "music" that none of us would actually listen to any other time, God forbid actually try to figure out the words to (bring your earplugs sportsfans, your chest IS going to be thumped with sound). It's for adrenaline-addicted, money's-no-object, I-can-do-fourteen-1080's-at-a-time-and-you-can't, spoiled rotten twelve year olds now. Do we want to notice?
Rocky Horror Picture Show on snow. Everyone in the audience knows the lines, knows the order of every scene and sequence...
Thanks, Warren, for something that once was indeed very personal and special, a genuine treasure for those few who knew. We loved you and we loved what you gave us. Good night to all that. Long may it wave.
Boise, Idaho (most recently)