Cinema viewing

I am baffled by the obsession of sitting in the back of the cinema. Every time I go to buy my tickets for an allocated session the girl at the box office, apologetically tells me something along the lines of, “um the best I can do is three rows from the back in the middle”. Is there anything three rows from the front? I ask. She looks relieved and happily tells me there is plenty available near the front. The absurdity of all this particularly struck me in a small cinema where there were ten people crammed into the back two rows with the rest of the theatre empty.

The only reason I can think of for this obsession is a hangover from the old tradition of making out, snogging, necking or whatever you like to call it, with your date at the back…when it used to be naughty. But in these liberal times who goes to the cinema to get hot and heavy anymore? Perhaps I’m just loser who believes in the sanctity of movie watching. Or perhaps I don’t understand the fire of teenage passions.

Furthermore, these myths of your neck getting sore if you sit too close to the screen are rubbish. I’m paying money to see this film so I want to be as close as possible to the big screen so I can have the full movie-going experience!

I don’t think the cinema will ever die (no matter how easy it is to watch films in your own home, on the road, or pretty much wherever you damn like these days). There is something about going to the movie that is a special experience. Sitting a darkened room, filled with strangers, engulfed by the giant screen and surround sound. The experience is at once individual and communal. It puts you in an environment to be completely absorbed by what is happening on screen, which can not be replicated in the home. It’s a ritual, it’s an experience. All the psychoanalytical theory about Plato’s cave and Lacan’s mirror phase aside, each time you go to the cinema it is a unique experience. It’s a pity so many popular films are largely underwhelming, churned out by the Hollywood manufacturing line – predictable, clichéd, mindless and forgettable (not that I’m against pop culture per se, there’s something to be said for it too but I’ll save that for another rant). I love seeing works of the masters on the big screen. The magic of their genius is enhanced by the cinematic atmosphere.

What makes me believe in cinema is when I walk out and I feel like I’ve had an experience, like I’ve lived through something special. It’s the way cinema can be visceral, the experience of watching becomes a part of you. And it stays with you long after you have left the theatre.