A rant on modern theater-going

Going to the movies is, and forever will be a delight for me. The feeling of immersing oneself in another world — another person’s mind — for an hour and a half hooked me long before I even considered film as a career path. Unfortunately, the pristine days of watching movies at the cinema have given way to the tide of Torrential downloads, Amazonian digital streams, and that red bastard Netflix, who’ve conspired to destroy my precious and delicate experience. While there is value in living in a time where many varied movies are available through DVD, streaming online, and pay cable, they pale in comparison to that feeling of sinking in a seat at the cinema and taking in an enormous projection of a film with appropriately sized scope. These varied options, under the veil of convenience, have culled to transform the theater experience into the abysmal state it inhabits now. Watching a movie just ain’t what it used to be.

I should prompt you with the occasion that inspired this rant. This past weekend, I watched, or rather, tried to watch a film that had been out for awhile entitled Like Crazy. As the lights came down, and trailers began to roll, a moment which never ceases to delight me, I noticed a persistent flicker on the image. I gave it some time, thinking perhaps it was a bug momentarily gumming up the works. Nope, it kept flickering. Looking around, I searched for someone with that look of “This is bullshit. I’m going to get the manager.” Unfortunately, it was just me who sported the look of disdain. 

I politely excused myself and went searching for someone, anyone to preserve my sacred experience with the film. I had to go damn near to the front ticket booth to let someone know, who assured me the problem would be addressed immediately. Returning to my spot, I gave the man in the projection booth a little time to work his magic.

So I waited. And I waited. And I waited some more.

The film began, and I couldn’t surrender myself because I was too distracted by the flickering. I looked around and everyone else seemed unfettered by the poor presentation. What is it? Everyone has $14.25 to blow on a broken projector?  So I gave up, cut my losses and, most importantly, got a refund.
Unfortunately, this typifies a prevalent state within the US theater experience. Most of today’s theaters suffer from a supreme lack of funds, lack of good material, and dip in interest. I saw Like Crazy at the ArcLight which, at one point, was the Cadillac of watching movies. A couple of years ago, I ventured to the ArcLight in Hollywood and was blown away by the atmosphere, the snazzy decorum, of teeny boppers and old families, and the elegant presentation right down to the attendant who introduced the film to the audience. Although having an attendant introduce a film is unnecessary, it shows a real panache and departure from the less enthusiastic theater chains.

Regrettably, the ArcLight has fallen off, giving a remarkable impression of a jogger limping to the finish line.  The busied lobby of yesterday transformed into a moderately populated chasm of teenyboppers, probably less interested in watching a movie than theater hopping. The attendants cycled through the introduction as if we were one in the line of many introductions to be done, breezing apathetically with little regard to diction or comprehension. Standards have dropped, and I fear that the convenience model of digital streaming has given us the state of movie watching we inhabit now.

What happened to my beloved night at the movies, an event I’ve clung to since my early teenage years. Nowadays, people are more interested in returning texts, rudely yelling at the characters on screen, or worse: discussing with their neighbors.

I love a movie that inspires dialogue, but that dialogue should be after the movie and with the appropriate people. That appropriate person is not me ... or anyone else for that matter.

These are the basics people. No talking. No cell phones. Sit your ass down and get lost. I yearn for that lost cinematic paradise.

Admittedly, there is some irony in discouraging communication in such a communal experience as an outing to the movies. Surrendering oneself to the collection of images requires a concentration and a connection with the material. Witnessing the images in a film almost resembles a type of shared dreaming state, where the viewer lies completely apart from the person next to them and within the film. Yet still, the viewer is captivated in this experience of the film while others are so this position is complicated. Yet still more reason to engage with the film, in a manner, engaging further with your neighbor through shared emotion rather than speech.

That’s so cool. Why would anyone want to mess with that? Why wouldn’t anyone want to preserve that?

Some institutions will be around forever, cinema being one of them; I hope we can preserve what we can of this incredible experience, something so complex and delicate and all at the same time shared amongst an auditorium of silent watchers. Now certainly, if streaming and digital exhibition has taught us anything, it’s the experience of watching a film is malleable. But however malleable the experience, some elements cannot be translated like the feeling of letting a film envelope you, your eyes darting from spot to spot during an intense action sequence, or that stunned feeling after watching an intense story where you no one in the packed theater can move an inch. That’s the cinema that I know and love. I hope we can hold onto it a little longer.