Cinema going: a communal indulgence

25 August 2015:

I’m going on a date. With my husband Ronny. To the movies.

I missed this week’s BCM240 lecture due to the inclement weather, so I played catch up in the cosy comfort of my living room with Ronny beside me. This worked out rather conveniently, because he happened to overhear the bit where our lecturer said we had to go to the movies for this week’s blogging task.

Have to. Dr Bowles said.

(Neither of us actually needs any convincing – we’re regular movie-goers anyway…)

Ronny’s been informed of the date, time, venue and film we’re going to see. He’s even looking forward to it. No coupling constraints here! I’ve pre-booked, not because I think we’ll miss out on tickets by the time we arrive, but so we can enjoy dinner and drinks beforehand then stroll into the cinema afterwards without having to queue for tickets. We’re busy people – time is precious, and we’d rather spend ours not standing around in mind-numbingly long lines where possible.

Friday night after work, we’ll drive to Sydney (unhindered by capability constraints) to disentangle ourselves of parental responsibilities before frolicking gaily towards Dendy Newtown, free to enjoy ourselves without having to worry about silly authority constraints like attempting to watch an MA15+ movie while accompanied by a 12 year old.

28 August 2015:

7.30pm: We’re child free! And have just spent almost half an hour navigating narrow Newtown backstreets trying to find a legal parking spot. We almost succeeded.
8pm: A wander up King St lands us in a conveniently-located café inside the cinema complex – we’re hungry for dinner and really, really want a glass of wine. It’s Friday night, and the end of a long working week after all… I can see the box office from our table and feel a little foolish for having been concerned about queues.

8.40pm: We’re close to being done with indulging in the café’s offerings, and feeling pretty cruisy.
8.50pm: Queues. Queues everywhere. It seems a couple of films have just finished screening and there are long lines for the loos, which I now also have to join. And the whole of Newtown seems to have suddenly decided to go to whatever’s screening next. There are queues for tickets and popcorn snaking all the way out to the entrance.
9pm: Scheduled start of the movie. Feeling less cruisy:

9.10pm: We hurry into the cinema. I’m surprised at how small it is – there’s only 7 rows with 7 seats per row – but I quite like the intimacy of it. There’s also a couple of 2-seater couches in front of the first row with people curled up on them. The screen isn’t very large and my eyesight isn’t as good as it once was, so we choose the 4th row back from the screen, and head for the end of the row because 3 of the other seats are already taken. There’s one seat between me and another couple, who have one seat between them and a lone fella. The pattern is repeated across the cinema, with all the groups separated from strangers by one or two spaces. People are chattering quietly amongst themselves and it’s a cosy, cheerful atmosphere. The seats are really cushy and super comfortable.
9.15pm: The emotional rollercoaster commences. People are audibly responsive throughout – gasps, sorrowful moans, sniffling, a couple of laughs. The first sound of shocked muttering during a sad scene early on seemed to be a green light for everyone else to respond in kind. Even though I’ve never met these other people and we’re not even making eye contact let alone conversation, I’m still connecting and bonding with them on this momentary shared journey. We’re all completely immersed to the very end.

This shared experience and human connection is the reason I think that cinemas will still have audiences in future. We all have a need to connect with others, especially those with shared interests. Having a sense of community is a powerful driver. Some of us choose direct interactions like face-to-face gatherings, while others prefer experiences that are indirect, such as cinema-going or connecting with like-minded souls online. I think that cinemas will continue their evolution of communal indulgence, essentially being relaxed, comfortable home-theatre-style spaces (with delicious snacks and drinks on offer) where friends, and the friends you haven’t met yet, can unite briefly in escape or adventure to new worlds.