Alone in the Dark

Over at About Last Night, Laura Demanski writes:

People seem to love going to the movies alone, but I really don't. In my life, I've seen one movie alone in the theater, a good one: California Split. That was five years ago, and not an uplifting experience.

Even though I spent hours and hours of my youth and adolescence in blissful isolation, captivated by VHS movies, I spent a long time resistant to the idea of going to a movie by myself. It seemed antisocial, somehow, as if part of the point of going to the movies was not just to see the movie, but to see the movie with someone, to make a shared connection over a film. For all the antisocial connotations of moviegoing—you sit alone in the dark and don't speak or look at those around you, after al—there is a definite social element to watching movies.

And though I still think the ideal way to watch movies is usually with company, it’s simply not always possible anymore, especially in workaholic Washington, and even more especially as a critic. My screening pass may invite both me and a guest, but who in downtown Washington can escape to catch a movie at 10:30 a.m. on a Monday? Even the evening screenings at local theaters can be difficult; if people aren’t working till 8 or 9 p.m. (as many in this town do), they’re at happy hours or networking parties or the gym or home washing laundry. Quite reasonably, movies, for many, are simply not a priority. The result is that, for good and for ill, I end up seeing a good many movies accompanied only by my notebook.

On one hand, this tends to increase my ability to focus on the film at hand. I spend less time noticing the reactions of the person next to me and more time scribbling notes, desperately trying to catch key quotations—the usual business. It feels, perhaps appropriately, less like a social occasion and more like a job, or at least an assigned task (which it is). I'm there for a reason, less distracted and more critically self-aware as a result of being unaccompanied.

Alternately, it means that I often miss the requisite post-movie discussion that comes when seeing films in a group. This discussion isn’t just important for helping me shape my own views, both by defending them and by hearing other responses to the film; it’s also a useful way to build a regular community around filmgoing, which helps me gain a broader perspective as a critic. In college, I had a pretty solid group of friends with whom I saw movies on a regular basis; as we saw more movies together, our tastes began both to merge and to differentiate—we became more alike from sharing and hashing out our views, but the differences in our individual tastes became clearer as well. It’s not something that could be repeated, of course. The requirements of the post collegiate, workplace environment don’t really allow this. Movies are not—indeed cannot—be a precedent for most people in this stage of life.

All this to say that, when it comes to watching movies, the experience matters—and not just where you see it and under what circumstances, but who you see it with and what your history (or lack thereof) is together. So pick your weekend viewing carefully, but also remember to choose your viewing companions—if you decide to have any—carefully as well.