As someone who's not very religious--at least not in the "orthodox" sense of the word--I've always been fascinated by religion. I've studied a few over the years and realized that the bulk of them are founded on good ideas. I don't have a problem with religion per se. I don't have a problem if you find something in it that works for your life and as long as it brings you comfort and inner peace and you're not harming anyone else, I don't have any issue with your chosen spiritual practice.
I do, however, have issues with proselytization--the idea that if something works for you it must work for everyone else and therefore you have to "convert" everyone to your way of thinking. I don't know if this is supposed to validate your own experience or what, but I think it closes peoples' minds to many experiences and possibilities.
I've frequently said that movies and music are the closest things I get to religion. I've described going to movie theaters and record stores as going to church. I get something out of it that so many other people don't. And I don't want to proselytize, but there is one point--possibly a "tenet" of my "faith"--that has become something of a cause célèbre, particularly among major film directors. That belief--one that I share--is the idea that movies are best appreciated in a theater.
And don't get me wrong--I enjoy watching movies at home. I'm watching one as I write this. But even with a 50-inch television that's bigger than anything we ever had when I was a kid and a killer sound system, it's still not as impressive as watching it in a darkened room on a screen at least two stories tall. It does require leaving the house, it frequently involves sharing the experience with a group of strangers, but I've often felt that the experience is still better.
The pandemic hit the film industry hard. As an avid moviegoer, I was particularly disappointed--there were three movies coming out in 2020 that I had to wait an extra year and a half to see, one of which never wound up playing at a theater near me (more than half a decade later and I'm still pissed about that!). Filmmakers--especially the well-known, well-respected ones--have been making a point the last few years to make their movies events that make it worth leaving the house for.
Last weekend, Christopher Nolan's adaptation of The Odyssey raked in over $260 million globally in its opening weekend. Not only are people saying that you need to see this in theaters, but because it's the first feature to be shot entirely in the IMAX format, you need to actually see it that way, which requires not just leaving your house, but seeking out a theater that is specially equipped to show such a film. And that judgement seems to be paying off. (Sadly, the closest IMAX theater to me is over an hour away--don't know if I'll see it that way or not--although I might opt for the new SCREENX option.)
But even without the whole IMAX thing, the bottom line based on my own experience is this: movies are typically better in a theater. I find this is especially true of movies that I've watched hundreds of times at home, particularly if I'm seeing them in a theater for the first time. I often see little details that I never saw before because it's harder to see them on your television screen--and damn near impossible on your phone--that make the viewing experience that much more interesting. Of course, once I see them, I can't unsee them, even when watching at home. (In It's a Wonderful Life, what IS that skull shaped thing on Mr. Potter's desk?)
In a theater, I've found that comedies are funnier, tragedies are sadder, action films are more intense, and even epics are more epic. The sheer size and scope of the theater screen makes for a bigger and better overall moviegoing experience.
Strangely enough, I've noticed that once I've seen certain films on the big screen, I'll go back and see them again if given the opportunity. This is especially true of movies that have meant something to me throughout my life. I've seen It's a Wonderful Life, Casablanca, Ghostbusters, and The Labyrinth multiple times in theaters--and even though I have them all in my home video collection, if I ever see that they're playing at my local theater, I will go see them again because they're among my favourites. Since 2009, I've actually seen Ghostbusters more times in a theater than I did when it was originally released in 1984.
When deciding which film to highlight this week, I actually tried to avoid picking this particular one. Admittedly, it is a little cliché and my friend Tara will think I'm calling her out for never having seen it (okay, maybe I am doing that to some degree--sorry, not sorry). But the truth is, this is a perfect example of what I--along with Steven Spielberg and Christopher Nolan and even Francis Ford Coppola--have been trying to explain since we've developed the ability to watch movies on our phones.
The first time I saw this film actually was in a theater in 1997. At the time, the movie was celebrating its 25th anniversary, so it was re-released in theaters. I had never seen it, even on home video, and always understood it to be something of a cultural phenomenon--even at 23, I also seemed to understand that seeing it at home on a VHS tape could not compare to seeing it in a theater. Looking back on it now, it's even more special to me because I got to share the experience with my dad--the man I credit for making me fall in love with movies to begin with. It was actually one of his favourites and I can say without hesitation that today it's one of mine. In the decade since his death, I've even been able to see it two more times on the big screen. And if I ever again see that it's playing, I will make a point of going out of my way to see it again (heads up, Tara).
Released in 1972, the film established the careers of Al Pacino, Robert Duvall, Diane Keaton, and even director Francis Ford Coppola. Based on one of the most celebrated novels of all time, Coppola also co-wrote the screenplay with the novel's author, Mario Puzo. It went on to win three Academy Awards including Best Picture, Best Actor (Marlon Brando), and Best Adapted Screenplay. In 2007, the American Film Institute (AFI) ranked it #2 on their list of the 100 greatest American movies. Yeah, it's a cliché, but this week, please enjoy The Godfather.
(NOTE: I would feel remiss if I didn't mention 1974's The Godfather Part II. It is, in my humble opinion, the greatest sequel--and prequel--ever made. Honestly, I tend to view both movies as one massive epic. Like it's predecessor, it's better appreciated in a theater. It went on to win six Oscars including Best Picture--the only sequel to ever win that award whose predecessor also won it--Best Supporting Actor (Rober De Niro) and Best Adapted Screenplay. In 2007, the AFI ranked it at #32 on their list of the 100 greatest American films--the only sequel on the list. I've even had the pleasure of seeing it on the big screen twice in the last ten years. And while I'll be the first to admit it's not as good, I feel that 1990's The Godfather Part III is often unjustly and unfairly maligned--but that's just me.)
Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.
Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!
The Reverend Will the Thrill
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