My favourite thing in the world is going to a movie alone. I care deeply about the entire experience: deciding which drinks I’ll sneak in (I always buy popcorn), getting there too early, to make sure I get the only seat that matters (dead center, back row), trailers!!!!, that moment it gets completely dark and quiet. If you get me intoxicated enough at a party, I will still be that awful film student who starts rambling about spectatorship theory. My dumbest tattoo is a movie ticket stub. I miss my favourite Toronto theatres every day (shout out to The Regent, my secret paradise).
I’m aware that for most people, going to the movies alone feels weird. Movies are for dates, friend hangs, family bonding. They’re also for home entertainment, for Netflix, for airplanes. Thinking of the movie theatre as a religious space meant for weekly attendance and reverence is a trait I share with very few people I know.
Now, of course, movie theatres are closed. Social distancing is the responsible thing to do right now, and it feels incredibly silly to mourn the ability to pay too much money to sit in a room with a bunch of strangers (I have built a career on convincing people to pay money to hang out in rooms full of strangers, and trust me: it’s silly). It’s hard for me to think of visiting my favourite place as a socially irresponsible act, but on the other hand, if that’s the main hardship facing me right now, I’m pretty fucking lucky.
But still, when all I want is a few hours away from my home and my anxiety and the news, I can’t help thinking about the innate comfort of walking up to a ticket counter saying “one for _____, please,” or Bobby Draper finally understanding something about humanity, or the advice found in Lorrie Moore’s “How”":
A week, a month, a year. Feel discovered, comforted, needed, loved, and start sometimes, somehow, to feel bored. When sad or confused, walk uptown to the movies. Buy popcorn. These things come and go. A week, a month, a year.
It’s a terrifying time to love movies right now. Even if you aren’t—like me—stricken by anxiety by the loss of the physical cinema space, the industry is being hit hard. Productions are being delayed, festivals are being rescheduled, and releases are suffering from theatre closures. I’m scared for indie releases in particular—things like Never Rarely Sometimes Always, which I was dying to see, and which opened to crickets last weekend. Below-the-line workers are out of work, as are independent cinema employees. If you care about learning more, I highly recommend listening to the latest episode of “The Big Picture,” a podcast that goes deep on issues in the movie industry without ever feeling inaccessible or insider-y. (If, on the other hand, you do want inaccessible and insider-y, try the Hollywood Reporter’s daily newsletter.) One of the podcast’s hosts points out early in this episode that “a place where I go for fun and for relief and to learn something else about the world or other people is suddenly not available to me.”
That sucks! It really does. As one of the many Bobby Drapers in the world, I learned that everybody likes to go to the movies when they’re sad. Going to a movie has always been the perfect cure for me, regardless of whether I’ve been feeling too much or not enough. Movie theatres are spaces of complete comfort—velvet chairs! junk food! no talking!—where you can watch something that will shatter your entire view of the world. There is a comfort in being surrounded by a small community of strangers, watching the same things happening and yet having our own unique reactions. Watching movies makes perfect sense during a time of isolation; there’s a reason REAR WINDOW is considered the perfect metaphor for cinema. We get to be alone, and connect. We get to come together, and reflect on communal, historical events from our own seats. I’m not sure what will happen to that, and I’m scared of losing it.
(NOT A) RECOMMENDATION FROM THE ARCHIVE
Here’s the thing: I thought about making this a list of recommended quarantine viewing, and then decided against it. I’ve been feeling lately that social media has become a barrage of “you should be doing this” messaging, whether that’s for TV shows to binge or yoga workouts to try or recipes to cook or projects to start. I don’t think that there’s any right way to keep yourself entertained while staying at home, and I don’t think you need to radically alter your behaviour outside of, well, not going outside. HOWEVER, because this is my only viable skill aside from the aforementioned event-planning, I am happy to recommend stuff IF YOU WANT. You can email me (hurray for technology!) and ask for any sort of recommendation. You want a six-season TV drama to completely dive into? A classic movie you feel like you should have already seen but haven’t? Apocalyptic fiction or optimistic non-fiction (or vice versa)? Let me know. A singular pleasure is guessing what a particular person would like, and I want to do that for y’all. Get in touch: blair.e.elliott@gmail.com.
OTHER THINGS I’VE LIKED LATELY:
Okay, one recommendation: I have been rewatching some of my all-time favourite movies, and feel confident that SAFE is wonderful quarantine viewing: unnerving, all about a weird mystery illness, peak Julianne Moore.
“Wellness” is very dumb and often dangerous but honestly if you boil some lemon and ginger tea and then just like, lie down on the floor and stretch a bit, you’ll feel nice (and if you really want to question wellness, The Dream podcast is truly great).
This picture of my parents’ puppy I took on film:
Rufus would like to remind you to please tip your delivery drivers well, be extra kind to any service workers, support local business whenever possible, and check in on your neighbours! If you like this, you can subscribe to hear more of my scattered thoughts.