First Impressions Are the Most Important
I’m sure it’s hard to believe, but movie fans haven’t always had the choice between seeing a movie at a theater or waiting to watch it on video. Much has already been made of Disney’s decision to limit its forthcoming Alice in Wonderland to just thirteen weeks of theatrical exhibition, before releasing it on Blu-ray and DVD. Young fans might not know it, but there was indeed a time when you could entirely forget about a movie between its theatrical debut and its home video release. (Then again, knowing the attention spans of some, this is probably still true.)
I bring this up because the choice continues to evolve for most movie fans: Go to the theater or wait and see it at home? I’m not going to explore the pros or cons of either environment, but rather I’m interested this time in exploring how where we see a movie impacts our feelings about that movie.
For many of us, it’s pretty much a given that the genre films (think Star Wars, Batman, Harry Potter) are releases that must be seen on a big screen. Not only that, but we prefer opening night – or even the earliest 12:01 showing – if it’s offered to us. Why? Partly because we’re desperate to see the film before anyone has had a chance to spoil any of it for us, which today isn’t easy. Even if you avoid the plethora of websites devoted to leaked information, many mainstream reviews shamelessly flaunt spoilers. Pass on reading anything about the film in question, and you still have to hope that some boneheaded marketing twit hasn’t seen fit to include everything in the trailer. More importantly though, there’s the shared communal aspect of seeing those kinds of movies with other dedicated fans.
When you wait to rent a movie, you miss the thrill of being surrounded by passionate fans. More seriously, you risk spending months hearing about how disappointing it is. When you see a movie before all that poisons you against it, it’s a matter of being innocent until proven guilty. The moment you become conscious of public consensus against a film, the movie is guilty and must try to prove its innocence to you. We may not even be aware of it, but it does change our expectations. It changes how willing we are to laugh at the little jokes, to suspend our disbelief early in the film, or to invest ourselves in the characters.
I’m sure I laughed harder at Superbad because I saw it in a theater full of people who kept laughing from start to end. Laughter is infectious, and comedies benefit strongly from being seen with a crowd who is willing to laugh. Go see a comedy on a weekday afternoon sometime. The elderly are hard to impress and less vocal in their reactions to movies. It becomes awkward to watch a comedy with only pockets of light chuckles, which can make the entire experience uncomfortable.
I’m also certain I enjoyed Paranormal Activity more because I saw it at a theater full of enthusiastic fans. The audience squirmed together, gasped together, shrieked together, jumped in their seat together… and several of us laughed together at everyone else squirming, shrieking, and jumping in their seats. It was fun. I’ve read countless reviews from fans that waited to watch it at home and have been disappointed. I can’t say for sure, but I’m willing to bet I would have been one of them had I waited… and they might have enjoyed the movie more had they decided to see it during its theatrical run.
Then there are the intimate dramas. I think I enjoyed Lost in Translation more at home than I would have in a theater. I watched it on a lazy, drizzling afternoon with nothing to do and nowhere to go. It was perfect for that movie because the lead characters meet one another during a lazy, drizzling point of their lives. I felt like familiar friends had stopped by to while away the afternoon with me, and it endeared me to the film.
I hated Eyes Wide Shut when I saw it during its theatrical run, but have come to love it in subsequent viewings at home. Granted, Kubrick films are notorious for requiring several viewings to enjoy, but I really feel that I benefited from seeing the movie without being overwhelmed by the size of the images. I was more able to concentrate on the rich visuals of the film, and as a result, more of the subtle nuances register with me each time I see it.
How about you? Can you think of a time when you know that the enthusiasm of an auditorium full of people rubbed off on you and boosted your enjoyment of a movie? Can you think of a film that you’re sure you appreciated more because you saw it in the comfort of your own home – without anyone else around? How does this influence your ranking of these movies when they come up for you on Flickchart?
This post is part of our User Showcase series. You can find Travis as minlshaw on Flickchart. If you’re interested to submit your own story or article describing your thoughts about movies and Flickchart, read our original post for how to become a guest writer here on the Flickchart Blog.
I wrote about this on my own blog specifically as it related to comedies. Slightly different example that I was using — I nearly had my enjoyment of I Love You, Man ruined by the fact that the people near me were laughing too MUCH, too early, at parts that weren’t that funny yet. They were also talking, and reacted rudely when I shushed them, so I started to think I Love You, Man was something that could only be appreciated by morons. Fortunately, my wife and I moved seats to the other side of the theater, and started laughing at our own pace, at which point, the movie was salvaged.
I tend to agree with your overall principle, but I also tend to avoid really crowded moviegoing experiences, so I’m wondering if I’m missing out on the true experience of movies I end up really loving/hating. One other quick comment about a good comedy: I definitely don’t agree that you HAVE to see it with other people in order for it to be funny enough. The film I may have laughed hardest at in the past two years — Step Brothers — was something I saw at the drive-in, with only my wife in the car.
Derek, I didn’t mean to imply that you “HAVE to see” a comedy with a crowd to enjoy it. I merely suggest that a comedy benefits from a crowd.
It’s funny you cited “I Love You, Man” because I had the exact opposite experience: my wife and I went with a friend and we comprised a third of the audience. We were the only ones who actually laughed at any of the movie, and felt self-conscious doing it. It certainly dampened the experience. I think it would have been more fun had we seen it by ourselves than with other people who weren’t audibly enjoying the film.
Agreed, Travis, and I didn’t meant to say you implied anything — I was just providing counter-intuitive evidence based on an experience I’d had.
I think any kind of disparities of laughter — too much or too little by the people around you — can ruin your experience of a comedy. Paradoxically, then, could it be that comedies are best experienced at home? That doesn’t seem to make sense, does it? Still, I like the purity of deciding what I will laugh at, when, without being affected by what other people are doing. It works for the sitcoms we love, so why not for movies?
I do agree that there are certain movies that are best seen with crowds, namely, the blockbusters you mentioned. In those crowds, people tend to cheer even when the movie is not great, which might make you like the movie more. Because even as much as we all fancy ourselves film snobs, wouldn’t you prefer to artificially like a movie more rather than to artificially like it less? We do go to the movies to enjoy ourselves, after all. If we hate ourselves in the morning, at least we’ll have that temporary enjoyment.
Derek, you bring up a divergent subject that has long been on my mind. For some reason, I prefer TV comedy to movie comedy. I can re-watch “Cheers” re-runs ad nauseum, and they’re still funny to me. I can’t say that about nearly any movie comedies, though Judd Apatow might be changing that with his work as director (not necessarily the movies he merely produces). I hesitate to discuss this any further right now, partly because it threatens to go too far off-topic, and partly because it might be the focus of my next blog entry.
I like the spirit of your term “artificially liking a movie,” but I’m not entirely comfortable with the wording. I think when you get caught up in the energy of an audience, while that isn’t part of the film, it is part of your experience — which, to bring us full circle, affects how we feel about a film.
Ah, but you missed the qualifier “more.” I guess a better way to say it would be having your opinion “environmentally inflated” or “environmentally depressed.”
Good discussion!