When I lived in Sarasota, I had a favorite movie theater. It was actually a megaplex with about 8 theaters – which are not always the best theaters. Truthfully, there are different types of movie theaters in which I prefer to see different types of movies. I prefer little, single, old movie houses for foreign and independent films. But for all the regular, major, first-run movies, I like nice, big, clean, new theaters with big, comfy, stadium seats and all the best snacks.
And I have to have snacks. I’ll sneak in what I can, but I always have to go to the concession stand for something because it is part of the magic of the movies [ridiculously exorbitant pricing notwithstanding].
The thing that made this particular movie theater my favorite was that between the movies, they showed the usual local advertisements and running movie trivia and the like, and when the previews were about to start (another thing I can’t miss – but I’ll get to that in just a moment), the lights would dim a bit and the coming attractions were played. Then, when the coming attractions were over and the movie was next, everything would go silent, the curtains (yes, they actually still had big, beautiful, dark red/purple velvet curtains) would close from the left and the right until they met in the center. Here’s where the real magic would start. The lights would dim a bit more and – wait for it – wait – wait – the curtains would raise, gathered uniformly across the breadth of the screen like a Roman shade!
Movie theaters don’t do this anymore. And there is something magical that happens in those moments when you are sitting in a darkened theater with fifty to two hundred and fifty strangers, holding your breath, awaiting the beginning of the movie. There is something sacred, some sense of reverence for the ritual of the curtain going up, that I cherish.
In those moments, I don’t care about who sat where near me. I’m not thinking about the smells and sounds of my fellow movie patrons. I’m in the moment and I’m in it with everyone around me. No matter the type of movie we’re all about to see. No matter the weather outside. No matter what bills are waiting to be paid or dinner to be made or appointments to keep. In those moments before a movie begins, I am there and I am waiting to take a journey with strangers, together.
I took a second job at that movie theater when I was a single mother and they were nice enough to allow me to be scheduled every other week, on the weeks when my son was with his dad. I sold tickets and I loved it. I sold a ticket to Jerry Springer once – but I didn’t know it was him. In fact, I thought he was looking at me strangely because he recognized me from the office building I worked in (day job) and thought I knew him. What an ego [mine], eh? Anyway, this job allowed me to see every movie for free and I loved it. I used to see every movie that came out except Kung Fu movies and horror movies. I saw them all.
I prefer to see movies alone, but I’ll take company if it’s available. I’m always amazed to meet people who say they could never go to a movie alone. What?!?! It’s the best way to see a movie!
I mentioned that I also love the coming attractions and I won’t dream of missing them. I know people who purposely time their arrival to scoot in just as the opening credits are rolling for the movie they’re seeing. Appalling! Movie trailers and coming attractions are like watching Oprah’s Favorite Things episode each year!
Not every movie measures up to expectations and not every movie is memorable, but they sort of all have their place in my life. They are like bookmarks or footnotes to punctuate the times of my life. There have been movies which have changed me forever – probably too many to really mention or remember – but some which etched a message on the slate of who I am.
My favorite movie of all time – no kidding – is “It’s a Wonderful Life”. I always watch it at Christmas and I try to watch it once in the summer, just to remember the message. Clarence: “Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?” Puts a lump in my throat just thinking of it. I love that movie most of all.
The movie “Gandhi” was life-changing. I was in college when I saw it and was confronting some childhood anger/rage issues for the first time and I was so inspired by Gandhi’s wisdom and the peaceful perspective from which he viewed everything. Ben Kingsley became Gandhi and I have never been able to see him in another role (almost – see the following paragraph) without imagining him as Gandhi. What a wonderful movie.
There was also “Schindler’s List”. That little red coat! Filmed in black and white . . . but that little red coat! Profoundly impactful and remarkable. Anyone who has seen the movie knows – and I need to say little to expand on the experience.
Then there were silly movies which I loved as well. I saw the movie “Parenthood” with Steve Martin and have always remembered that experience. I saw it as a premiere the week before it opened in a sold-out theater. I don’t really know if the movie was THAT funny and THAT good or if it was just the absolute best way to see a comedy – but it was one of the times when I was intensely aware that I was sitting in a packed theater with 275 strangers and each and every one of us was laughing until our sides hurt and we were all going on the same ride. It was the same feeling I have when I ride roller coasters. Really. Ups and downs and loops and crazy spins and we’re all in it together! We all walk out of the theater/ride and go back to our lives – but we just spent the last experience together having the same experience. We might never see each other again – we probably won’t – but we shared this snippet of our lives. That’s just really cool to me.
There have been a million wonderful movie experiences, and whether they’re all good or all bad, whether they’re all “worth the money” or not, whether they’re life-changing or just a momentary diversion – they are all magic.
And if you can find a movie theater that still raises the curtain before the opening credits – take it in and revel in the moments of anticipation of what is to come. Whatever movie it is, it is bigger than just you, bigger than just your life, bigger than wherever you are – for the time that you are in it. That’s magic.
Evolution Happens . . . 