Denouement: The Fading Brilliance of Entertainment Weekly Seasonal Previews

Back in 1991, sitting in a meticulously straightened upstairs bedroom of the two-story traditional home of Robert and Debbie Grierson of rural Mattoon, the two editors of The Projector, then both 16 years old, sat down with this issue of Entertainment Weekly magazine and planned out their holidays. Everyone else could have their sugarplums and their mistletoe and their geese a-laying; Tim and I only cared about what movies were coming out, and when they would make it to Mattoon so we could see them. We did not have Box Office Mojo's release calendar, and our local newspaper wouldn't tell you what movies were playing at the Cinema 1-2-3 until the day before they opened. There were no Set Photos From "The Dark Knight" or Deadline reports on a movie about Legos coming out in 2014. Entertainment Weekly knew movies that were coming out months from now, movies we had never heard of before. It was our Bible and our roadmap and our Sputnik to the outside world. Mattoon is very small.

Looking at that issue's table of contents now is pretty funny. There's a piece about how cool Metallica is to their fans -- Said Lars Ulrich, who would never change his mind about this: ''Who am I to sit on my high horse and say, 'I'm a rock star and you can't do this because it takes away from our record sales'? We don't have a problem with record sales.'' -- and a pearl-clutching piece about how Islamic ideas were infiltrating rap. I'm sure Tim and I skipped all those, though, and went straight to the release schedule.

That year had 10 major holiday releases: "The Addams Family" (which earned the cover), "Beauty and the Beast," "Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country," "Hook," "The Last Boy Scout," "Bugsy," "JFK," 'Father of the Bride," "The Prince of Tides" and "Fried Green Tomatoes." We were most fascinated by "Bugsy" and "JFK." Those were big prestige pictures by Oscar winners about big adult smart-person topics, movies we had no idea existed until we picked up that magazine. I took to writing the names of all the movies I wanted to see in a steno pad, with a box for a checkmark, once I had seen them.

I have done that every year since 1991, with every edition of Entertainment Weekly's Summer Movie Preview, Fall Movie Preview and Holiday Movie Preview. (Those last two have lots of crossover movies, but I still do it, anyway.) There is absolutely no reason for me to keep doing this. I can go to about 15 different sites with release date information; for this job, in fact, I do that very thing, every day. But still I do.

I do so for the same reason I still keep score at baseball games even though every baseball stat anyone could imagine is exhaustively researched and displayed on about 30 different baseball sites. I do so for the same reason I keep a running log of restaurants I go to even though my phone has about six different apps that would do that for me. It's the same reason I still use a steno pad, for crying out loud. I still do it because that's what I've always done. I do it because I'm getting older and doing things I've always done, the same way I've always done it, provides me comfort and stability in a world that stubbornly refuses to stop changing. I do it to feign order.

I took a little solace in knowing someone like Jeffrey Wells still does this too, or at least something like it, but he's even older than I am. I bet no one younger than me does it. I bet the main people who buy this week's Entertainment Weekly are travelers and pediatric office managers. That's an issue that Entertainment Weekly, like all magazines (including the one I work for), have been dealing with several years: an increasing number of people growing up in a world where magazines, print magazines, are some sort of odd anachronism, like a fax machine, or now, heck, even a stapler. Though EW's excellent website does help. (As New York magazine's does, I hasten to add.)

But that's a different issue. I'm talking specifically these issues, the Summer Movie Guide, the Fall Movie Guide, the Holiday Movie Guide. These weren't so much magazines for us back in 1991; they were reference guides. (In the same way that Leonard Maltin's Little Movie Guide was an essential until IMDB came.) I'll never pick up a magazine with as much enthusiasm as I did those old guides every again, not even those. I do it now out of obligation, out of nostalgia, out of a grim tribute. And then I click back over for some more "Dark Knight Rises" photos. It makes me sad, not because no one else does it or cares to anymore, but because someday, they won't be around for me to. Every year I wonder if this is the last one. I've still got enough notebook space for another decade, at least. Even if they're just making them for me and Red Eye flyers, I'll still be here.

And, by the way: Owen Gleiberman is still so wrong about "Beauty and the Beast."