Thursday, March 11, 2010

Why Watching Matters

Before writing more about movies I've watched and what I think about them I realized I wanted to examine watching movies because I believe that the experience of seeing the movie is as vital to experiencing the movie as it was meant to be. Sure, home theaters are great. And if you have a nice big flatscreen television or have been over to a friend's place and watched a movie on one, you know that is sure beats whatever tv you had at home growing up and that tiny set you had in the college dorm. But I hold that no matter what a movie at home is still like looking at Van Gogh's "Starry Night" reproduced in a magazine.
Of course, with "Starry Night" in the Museum of Modern Art in New York and many movies at you local theater there will be a crowd. But darn it, that is part of the experience. The difference is that the painting must be viewed amongst a crowd because it is world famous and hangs in only one spot where interested people come to view it. Movies can be played in multiple theaters at the same time so the crowds might vary from venue to venue, but almost always there's somebody else there with you. That's the whole point!
A painting or a sculpture does not necessarily gain anything from being viewed with a crowd. In fact, the viewing can be diminished if there are too many people since, as with when I went to the MoMA and saw Van Gogh's wonderful painting, I had to negotiate a throng of ogling people who were also trying to view the painting. Some people were holding aloft their cameras to snap a digital photo of the piece (Besides being rather rude, folks in this case you're definitely better off with that quality magazine print of "Starry Night"!). So I saw the painting and while I can't put to words how fantastic and awe inspiring it was, there was no collective experience, just a mob of people trying to grab for themselves a little bit of inspiration while avoiding trampling or being trampled by their neighbor.
Movies were designed for that collective experience and yet the lovely dark of the theater gives each member of the audience the chance to disappear into that happy place in their mind where they become immersed with the experience of what they see all while taking part in a group experience as the other audience members react to the movie in their own way. That simultaneous solitude and collective experience really makes movies special. You could say that the same hold true to a sporting event but honestly, I think the darkness of a theater makes only a symphony performance or a live play the only thing close to the movie experience.

I do hope you think that I don't enjoy art galleries- or sporting events- because that couldn't be farther from the truth. I just agree with all the critics and film writers who have analyzed and lauded sitting in a darkened theater and watching a series of images projected at 24 frames per second with a group of anonymous people. They said it better than I can, I'm sure, but there is such a great immediacy of the work when you hear yourself gasp or laugh or cry and suddenly realize that you are not the only one making that response. Similarly, for me there is nothing better than bursting out with laughter or yelping in terror and realizing that I was the only person within ten rows who did so. To me, this either increases the humor of the humor because I decide that everybody else missed what I saw or adds to the scare because I realize how completely I'd put myself in the hands of the filmmakers and allowed them to scare me. I absolutely love that.

I also cherish sitting back at a key moment of a movie I know by heart and being able to listen to the audience so that right before an unexpected scare, horrific reveal, shocking twist, hilarious line, comic double take, astounding stunt, gorgeous shot or some astounding work of filmmaking I can feel the movie's power by focusing on the audience's reaction. Watching people suddenly realize that Groucho and Harpo are actually mirroring each other or knowing that that fellow with popcorn in his hair did not know the shark was coming to the surface at that moment is worth the price of admission.

There is a thrill that I get meeting friends at the theater to watch a movie. It is a chance to share anticipation and then submit ourselves fully to the movie without all the distractions that go along with watching a video in somebody's living room. Sure, home viewing can be great but there we're meeting for a group activity in which we include a movie. At the theater we meet for a movie watching experience that includes group activity. I look forward to the moment the lights come up and we can all finally share our response with each other. The end of the movie brings with it the much anticipated "What did you think?", "Who was that woman in that scene?" "Remember when that thing happenend? I absolutely hated everything after that point!" and any number of immediate responses which we share and elaborate on in an attempt to analyze the movie experience.

I can't say enough about seeing movies in theaters. I know I could say more but film theorists have done so much more before me that there's little point in rambling on. However, I'm going to follow up shortly with a quick list of some of my favorite movie theater experiences. Perhaps they'll remind you of some of your own. Perhaps a same movie gave you a similar- or completely opposite response. Those are the sort of things that help bind all of us who love movies and appreciate the joy of the theater.

1 comment:

Jack Badelaire said...

Couldn't agree more. Maybe it's just the shadow of that bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked film student in me still, but the "filmic experience" is just as much the part of the art of film as the film itself. Even when I gag a little at the thought of coughing up $14 to see something like Avatar in 3-D, I did it because I knew it would be critical to understanding the movie and experiencing it the way it was meant to be experienced. Whether or not I liked the movie aside, I had to see it the right way, and I still feel that way about a lot of movies.

You know how much I love Conan the Barbarian, but seeing it at the Coolidge Corner Theater two midnight shows in a row, seeing it on the big screen for the first (but hopefully not last) time, it was like seeing it for the first time because I was seeing it as it was meant to be seen.

I think today, when movies are made with the DVD market firmly in mind, there may be something lost because there is always that thought in the movie-maker's mind that "they can always hit pause and re-wind" or somesuch. This saddens me somehow.