Movie theaters across the country are quietly closing as a dwindling attendance rate eats away at their supposedly outdated business model. As kids, we used to see movies in theaters all the time. From “Frozen” to “How to Train Your Dragon” to “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs,” countless theater visits have shaped countless childhoods. The opportunity to see a film in person with a bag of popcorn and a slushie in hand creates an unforgettable experience for a child.
When you go out to a movie theater with friends or family, you are building a community and fortifying your relationships in person. More than this, you’re also helping to support local businesses that provide a club good.
This year was the first since the beginning of the COVID pandemic that I went to the movie theater more than once or twice. Since the summer, I’ve probably been to either a theater or an outdoor movie event at least four times, and each time I’ve gone with people I know. In previous years, I only ever went to see major features such as “Wicked,” “Barbie” and “Black Widow.” Those were all big events where my friends, family and I specifically dressed up for the occasion or had past connections to the source material, like for “Wicked.” In contrast, this year I’ve gone to the movie theater, often on a whim, as a way to spend time with friends or simply to decompress. The movie doesn’t necessarily have to be big budget or making rounds on social media as long as it’s playing at a theater near us.
Each time, the experience deepens a connection with the people I go with. First, I saw “Freakier Friday” with my high school friend I hadn’t seen in months. We purposely planned to meet up early and catch an 11 a.m. showing, and we ended up spending most of the day together, even after the movie ended. The film itself was sub-par, mainly saved by Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis’ presences, but the opportunity to see it on such a big screen was thrilling. The larger-than-life feeling of old Hollywood is still present when you see something in a movie theater, even if you go in the morning to a mostly empty showing room.
The next film I saw this year was “The Bad Guys 2,” as part of a field trip with the summer camp I worked at. This theater experience was much more hectic, but the abundance of campers watching this movie together reminded me of how much fun I used to have going to the movie theater when I was younger. Afterward, as we waited for the bus to pick us up, the kids talked in a full group more than they had for most of the summer. They bonded over everything from the film itself to inside jokes they made up on the spot — I can’t help but think that, in a way, the movie allowed them to feel closer to each other.
Once I returned to Oakland, my friends and I made a point of arranging regular movie nights. We started off by seeing “The Roses” at Manor — once again, in a mainly empty theater — and had a great night with each other. That night, I downloaded Letterboxd, and I’ve been insufferable ever since. After that, a friend and I saw a Pitt Program Council showing of “21 Jump Street” on the Cathedral lawn, and earlier this month, that same friend and I went to AMC Waterfront to see “Tron: Ares.” In between those two, my friends, roommate and I watched “Challengers” at our apartment. After every film, I’ve felt a sense of community I haven’t felt since I was a kid.
The shift our public society has taken from community-based, regular-release media to independently-based, instant-release media concerns me for several reasons. The movie theater dilemma is merely a symptom of a wider problem of the streaming model overtaking the cable model. In one of my public and professional writing classes this semester, I’m using my time to investigate the effect this streaming shift has on public spaces cultivated by TV and other watchable media. When a TV show like “Friends,” “Lost” or “The Office” was released weekly on channels people regularly turn on, there was an instant, non-physical public space that formed. Since most people tuned into the channels airing those shows at the end of a long day, there was a pretty safe bet that others in your community saw that show. The next morning, people talked about the episode with their classmates, coworkers, family and friends. In turn, they related to those around them on something beyond their established relationship.
The same thing used to happen with big, blockbuster movie releases. Think “Avengers: Endgame,” or the aforementioned “Frozen.” It was normal to see people talking about those movies at family gatherings, on the street or anywhere else out in public. When something is allowed to be a natural phenomenon and the public naturally flocks to its existence, people find what they truly love. Movie theaters and cable networks profit more consistently because everyone’s going to see what’s regularly playing.
As someone who grew up during the abrupt shift away from this type of viewing, it feels like such a loss that we aren’t making the effort to go to local movie theaters and see what’s playing. In turn, if more people regularly attend, prices will go down and more theaters can stay open. Keep an eye out for new releases and tell your loved ones about them. Make it a day trip or even a fun evening activity. As long as you go to a theater semi-regularly, you’ll be helping support a vital piece of the arts. If we devote some of our time to keeping movie theater culture alive, not only will the theaters themselves benefit, but our community will too.
Isabel Hoch is a sophomore English Writing major who obsesses over very specific things for months at a time. If she writes an article about something, it means her friends haven’t heard her shut up about it in weeks. To get in a heated debate over something dumb (or tell her a fun secret), you can email her at [email protected].