I had a bad experience at a movie theatre when I was quite small. It was also my first experience at a movie theatre as far as I know. It was the 1996 live-action 101 Dalmatians movie from Disney, and I mostly remember the bits where Glenn Close’s angry and imposing face filled up the screen, plotting or cackling or just looking off-putting -and at the scale that it was, framing her as some immense monster, it was enough to terrify me. It was a bad first impression with the concept of movie theatres, and the scars from this experience carried over for several years after. For almost a decade after that, I went to movies only sporadically, and usually just kids’ movies -though even then I remember experiencing a panic attack at Finding Nemo of all things (now one of my favourite Pixar movies, incidentally).
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| Hugo (2011) |
I think about that now, how rough a start and how rocky a road my relationship with cinemas was. It wasn’t that I didn’t like movies, but the cinematic experience itself -it was intimidating, threatening, and all too real. I think how in this present era my childhood self would have much preferred the state of things: watching new movies from the safety of my home rather than having to see them in that frightful context. But I also think about why movie theatres had that effect on me, and why it was actually good for me in the long run. After all, like it or not, they did transport me to another world, what else could have produced such a vivid emotional response? They made me feel something, and at the end of every one I was okay. As I got older it became an endurance test and I came away liking more of the movies I saw than I didn’t. Cinemas had a great power over me, and one that’s never left, despite how much it’s changed over nearly a quarter century. I’ve come to care about them a great deal.
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| Roma (2018) |
And cinemas… are not in a good place right now. They haven’t been for a while due to the rise of streaming, the first great identity crisis they’ve had to face since the dawn of television. But the COVID-19 pandemic has only exacerbated this threat as theatres have had to close at the same time streaming services are prospering greater than ever before. There’s legitimate concern for the future of cinema coming out of this pandemic. Will people sacrifice the convenience of home to go out to a movie again? Will they feel safe doing so even if they want to? Already it was mostly the major Hollywood franchise movies that were keeping theatres afloat –will they be willing to show other kinds of movies at all after this?
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| 500 Days of Summer (2009) |
People talk so casually about the death of movie theatres; that it’s an eventuality we’re destined to meet and should just accept as another casualty of progress. They see the dawn of streaming as akin to the dawn of computers, and what it supplants shouldn’t really be mourned over beyond a simple “that’s a shame”. You hear the argument all the time that cinemas can be nice, but isn’t it so much better to watch a movie in the comfort of your own home? Where you can play and pause the movie at a whim, where you don’t have to pay extra for food, where you can maybe chat with friends during the movie and not have to deal with irate strangers or technical issues with projectors? What exactly is the benefit of going to movies in theatres beyond the century-old cultural tradition of it that we’re used to? After all, most of us born after the 80s have likely experienced the majority of the movies we’ve seen in our homes on a relatively small screen. What’s wrong with that?
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| Sherlock Jr. (1924) |
The answer is of course that there isn’t anything wrong with that, and that greater accessibility for a wide range of movies is unequivocally a good thing. But we mustn’t lose sight of the simple fact that’s not how the movies were meant to be seen. Moving pictures from their earliest days were designed to play to crowds, much as their closest artistic predecessor, live theatre. There was the sense of something incredible to them, that they were an event not to be missed, even if just for the curiosity of seeing a man and woman kiss or a train come into the station. Once they began to express narratives on the level of theatre and literature, they became even more solidly the successor to those previous public art forms –public being the key term here.
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| Sullivan's Travels (1941) |
Film belongs to that long tradition of public entertainment stretching back to ancient civilizations, where people would come together to witness a show. And now in the twenty-first century, it may be the last truly popular extension of that tradition. Cinemas are after all much more accessible than concerts or theatre; opera, ballet, and performance art are especially still very exclusive. They are the only place for many of us where we can collectively have a shared cultural experience, and have it regularly. More people partake in going to the movies than any other modern art form in a public space. And yet it’s still not enough. Audiences have been steadily dwindling for years, hence why big blockbusters that must be simultaneously spectacle and safe are the movies cinemas most rely on to draw people in. No longer are they an appointment activity, no longer is the sheer significance felt of watching a movie with a large audience; the age-old tradition of experiencing art and the desire to maintain it forgotten on so many. In that monumental context, losing movie theatres means a lot more than losing just movie theatres.
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| La La Land (2016) |
And that loss of the movie theatres themselves would also be tragic. It would mean the collapse of a whole industry, an indescribable loss of jobs and the vanishing of a long standing community pillar. Whether it’s a commercial multiplex or a humble historic movie house, it would leave such a sad and noticeable gap -especially in the case of the latter. I can understand somewhat not feeling so bad for the big cinema chains, that have incorporated arcades and fast food into their business models, and seemingly stand as titanic beacons of capitalist Hollywood in their excess -though it’s worth pointing out these institutions are incredibly valuable for theatrical distribution as a whole and require so many more employees dependent on their survival. But the end of the small theatres and cinema chains, currently in much more danger, would be a far greater blow not only for cinema fans who appreciate their dedication to arthouse, independent, foreign, and non-mainstream franchise movies, but local interest groups, cultural anthropologists, and just people looking for unique spaces and a way to see a wide variety of film in its intended format.
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| Singin' in the Rain (1952) |
At the end of the day, cinemas are important beyond the aesthetic, historical, or the romance of movie-watching. They’re also just plain fun. Going to a movie with family, friends, a significant other, settling in with popcorn and a soda, and letting a film sweep you away in the company of dozens of others there for the same reason can be exhilarating. And as much as I may begrudge them, the high concept Hollywood blockbusters are perfect for facilitating some of the most fun theatre experiences. There’s a reason why cinemas are so dependent on these sorts of movies: a particularly good one not only brings out the unbridled enthusiasm of the audience but even prompts repeat viewings. The best in recent years that I can recall were at Star Wars: The Force Awakens and Avengers: Endgame, franchise movies yes, and neither the peak of their respective ones. But they knew how to please a crowd, raise the energy, and deliver an enormously enjoyable time at the movies that I may well carry with me for the rest of my life. I can’t imagine seeing either of those on the small screen and taking away anything as remotely like the atmosphere and exuberance of such events. Inevitably, something is lost along the way from cinema to home environment, as it is for movies of all stripes. I’d rather not that deficient option become the norm. I hope to have many more experiences like those ones in the theatre that so utterly blew me away. It is the best way to reach viewers, the ideal way for them to encounter a movie -quite clearly the place where movie watching belongs.
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| Amelie (2001) |
Cinemas really should be preserved. Right now there’s a worry that once the pandemic is over, people will have gotten too accustomed to the luxury of seeing new movies at home and not want to bother to return to the way things were. Studios introducing concepts like same-day streaming releases certainly doesn’t help matters. But there are ways for cinemas to come back and survive. Adjusting ticket prices is one, as in some major centres even a single movie ticket can be unreasonably costly. They could do to dial back the commercialism a bit as well (as much as can be helped under grievous unchecked capitalism). Theatre designs too can be made more accommodating to social distance. And if enough studios choose to come to their defence and return to the pattern of releasing films to cinemas ahead of streaming priorities, there will be less excuse to stay at home for entertainment needs -of course the flip-side of that and something Disney is frighteningly edging close to is the return of block booking and studio-owned theatre companies, which would only do further damage to those smaller and specialty cinemas.
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| Cinematographe |
I hope that on the other side of the pandemic there really is this craving some have been suspecting for public places like movie theatres again. Perhaps those who had gotten disillusioned by the cinema experience will find its’ appeal renewed in its absence, or will even have gotten bored of the sensation of seeing multi-million dollar films on a home screen or computer. Film enthusiasts often talk about the “magic” of the movies, but it’s a magic of environment as much as of what you’re literally seeing, going right back to the magic box of the Lumiere brothers. That box has undergone an evolution, but it’s still there every time you go to a theatre, and still has as much power to captivate and encompass you in its trickery as it always has. And in that giant room where it projects its’ wonders, it keeps alive the spirit that has sustained the art of motion pictures for well over a century, as well as our human impulse to share in the exercise of taking in a show.
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| Cinema Paradiso (1988) |
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