Sentiments for Cinema
Illustration by Sydney Hanson
Sitting in the movie theatre seats with salty, buttered popcorn and a soda in hand, the trailers and advertisements roll one after another while you wait with anticipation. Suddenly, the lights dim and the audience falls silent. The screen’s blue light blares, projecting an iconic studio logo, and the soundtrack starts to play. The moment you have been waiting for is here.
The cinema, movie house, or picture palace has brought cinema lovers and familiar faces together for decades. They have been a significant part of the movie industry since the 1890s, evolving from simple projection halls into massive multiplexes. When I think about going to watch a screening, I often picture the “Let’s Go To The Movies” scene in Annie (1982). The grand illusion awakened once they entered the Radio City Music Hall’s theatre doors. After a musical number with bright and colourful lights, a silver bannered background, and the glamorously dressed up Rockettes dancing in unison with big smiles, the movie title “Camille” shows up on the theatre’s screen for the audience of four. This cinematic scene captures the experience of seeing a film in person, being filled with so much elation and enchantment, while “Camille” left their tears to shed and emotions raw.
Unfortunately, the theatrical window of movie availability in theatres has only gotten smaller over time, while the introduction of VCR, DVD, electronic sell-throughs, pay TV and streaming platforms have slowly morphed the industry. The only way to see a movie used to be at the theatres, but since the evolution of home entertainment technologies, these days are long gone. When the pandemic hit in 2020, movie theatres shut down and closed due to diminished revenue and audience members. Production studios had been itching to phase out the theatrical window, and this global lockdown gave them the power to do so.
Movie theatres in my hometown closed left and right as they struggled to recover from the pandemic’s impact and the rise of streaming services. The Cineplex Odeon Park and Tilford, where so many days with childhood friends were spent; the Esplanade 6 Cinemas down by Lonsdale Quay where my family took me to see countless classics like “La La Land” and “Up.” Cinemas carry me down a nostalgic trip. They hold a special place in my heart with cherished memories from childhood. I remember them as the places I would go to with my Nana and Papa during our days spent together, for end-of-the-year outings with old sports teams, for birthday parties with friends while we binged popcorn and Dollar Store snacks, suppressing giggles during the screening and eating sour candies until our taste buds burned. Like bitter candies, nostalgia can leave an acidic taste, but it brings me comfort knowing I once shared these big screens with my favourite people.
Once the world reopened after the pandemic, I tried to reignite the excitement I associated with seeing films in theatres. Since moving to Kingston, the Screening Room on Princess Street has allowed me to do so. The building’s nostalgic Hollywood ambience and cosy theatres create a peak movie-going atmosphere. Their popcorn is also top-tier, so I snag some whenever I go. My first visit to the Screening Room was for a friend’s birthday to watch “The Substance,” and wow, the entire audience’s experience changed by viewing it in theatres. The collective shock, disgust, heartbreak, and laughter shared by the audience were intensely immersive, but being with a crowd made it easier for me and my weak stomach to watch. Alongside the astonishment that came with scenes of body gore and blood, the cinematography and striking shots seen on the big screen let the messages of the film become more visceral. My most recent movie-going experience here was seeing the “Becoming Led Zeppelin” documentary. As an avid listener, learning about the band members pre-Zeppelin and the making of their first two albums let me witness the history that I envy my parents got to live in real-time.
Watching films from the comfort of your own home is convenient, of course, but its accessibility has faded the enthusiasm that cinemas used to ignite. Theatres turn movie-watching into an experience with sanctity. To make movie-going an event opposes the disposability of countless available content to stream at any time. Theatres take you out of control, dictating the time you must arrive and playing on its agenda, stopping for nobody. There are no distractions, nothing else to focus on, and no other screens to scroll through. The projection demands your attention, and as an audience member, you must surrender yourself to the movie.
The scale of the screen and booming speakers make the people and audio bigger than you are; the movie becomes larger than life and greater than you. The shared experience of it ties audiences to the climate of cinema culture. They’re a place to go when you need a break, a temporary escape from reality, an excuse to make memories with friends and family that you can look back on with nostalgic sweetness. In Amélie (2001), she whispers to the camera, “I like looking back at people's faces in the dark.” The camera then pans out, and those behind her are captured with beaming, bewildered looks on their faces lit up by the flickering blue screen. By doing so, she catches how films act as a machine to generate emotion and empathy, and the theatre serves as a place to immerse yourself in an artist’s creative vision put into fruition. The cold sodas and buttery popcorn are calling your name because there is no place to watch a movie like the theatre.