Certain actions (some of them completely absurd and unfounded in anything resembling real human behavior) have become so overused in movies and television that they’ve actually transcended being cliches to become parodies of cliches, which is just all sorts of weird. Even if a cease and desist can’t be issued against these incidents, the least we can do is complain about them. Here is an example of the kind of foolishness we never want to see on the big and/or small screen ever again.
We must put a stop to nightclub and rave scenes in movies. Across the board, in general, that’s it.
They’re not sexy. They’re not exciting. They’re not titillating, and they don’t make us wish we were there, having so much fun and seizing the night. They’re obnoxious, overcrowded and loud – just like in real life! Not to mention the fact there’s rarely a real reason to have a scene in a nightclub or rave, as far as the, you know, plot goes and such.
For one thing, Hollywood has one way and one way only in portraying such a place – every single person in town is there. But it’s always packed perfectly – there is exactly enough standing/dancing room for every single person down to the last square foot – one more person and it would be at overflow capacity. Everyone is attractive and having the time of their lives, bouncing and grinding to the rhythm (usually some sort of aggressive electronica that sounds more like white noise with drums than anything resembling music). Everyone’s choreographed to not look choreographed to the point where it ends up being over-choreographed.
So you’ve established this setting, and then something like this always happens next: Some lone character, usually with a concerned look on his or her face, isn’t dancing – they’re (somehow) traversing through the crowd, weaving in and out of the tiny gaps, perhaps heading toward the bar, or the somewhat isolated entrance to the coat check, or the private room upstairs. They’re looking for someone…
Then, they find the person they’re looking for, and they’re somehow able to hold a conversation without really raising their voices. The entire room somehow becomes perfectly sound mixed to accommodate their exchange. Some sort of information that furthers the plot is shared, and then one of the characters stays as the other traverses through the sweaty, grinding crowd again. We get a few more seconds of the attractive young people dancing about, almost hypnotized by how much fun they’re having, and our protagonist is gone, on to the next place the particular movie’s location scout came up with. No time for dancing in the wee hours – off to further the plot (in theory)!
That’s usually it. That’s usually what happens when there’s a club scene. And there’s usually no real reason as to why whatever exchange just happened had to take place in a club. It’s a location conjured up by focus groups – young people go to movies, and young people go to nightclubs and raves, so… go write that in, Mr. Screenwriter.
So no more. It’s bogus. The only time club scenes are allowed any more is if blood suddenly pours from the ceiling, like in Blade.