The Old Days

One of my favorite pastimes as a kid was going to the movies. It was a safe trip into a darkened realm of imagination, where larger-than-life stories shadow-played before my eyes and ears. I even remember taping newspaper ads for my favorite movies to my bedroom wall. As the late film critic Roger Ebert said, seeing a movie with an audience of cheering strangers was like “a democracy in the dark.” In my teens and 20s, movie-going morphed into a social activity with friends, and potential significant others. As a 30-year old in the summer of 1997, I’d resigned myself to bachelorhood until I met my future wife during a night out at the movies with mutual friends. The movie sucked (“Batman & Robin”), yet it was the most significant night of my life.

In childhood, my family often went to drive-in movies (they were cheaper), where I saw a number of blockbuster films, including “JAWS.” For “JAWS,” we waited over two hours in a line of cars parked outside the fenced perimeter of the drive-in. Some of us got out of our parked car to watch the last 30 minutes of “JAWS” over the fence, with only the barest trickle of monaural sound from nearby car speakers. When the cars from the previous showing let out, we got in, and, of course, I fell asleep roughly an hour or so into the film (I was eight). A few weeks later, we saw “JAWS” at a walk-in theater, where I experienced the film sequentially. While drive-ins had their virtues (including playgrounds for fidgety kids), walk-ins were my preferred way to experience films. In fact, I haven’t been to a drive-in since 1981 (“Dragonslayer,” on a double-feature with “Star Trek: The Motion Picture”). Even then, I was a nitpicking cineaste.

Another reason to enjoy moviegoing back then is because TV wasn’t exactly ‘home theater’ in those days. In the mid-1970s, the average ‘big screen’ TV was 25 inches, with one monaural speaker. In my bachelor days during the 1990s, I had a 20″ Sony Trinitron; a technically superior set, though a bit smaller. For zoning out to my old laserdiscs after a long day, my Sony did the job, especially with sound routed through my home stereo. That Sony was later repurposed as a bedroom TV after I got married, and it lasted a good 15 years until it was donated to charity in 2014. Today, my wife and I own a relatively modest 43″ Toshiba flatscreen, but we rarely use it for movies anymore, thanks largely to the COVID pandemic (more on that later). Given the limitations of TV technology for a majority of my lifetime, going to the movies offered a more authentic way to enjoy the widescreen dynamics and superior sound of film presentation.

Though I lacked the talent (or nerve) to give filmmaking a try, my love for movies remained a lifelong passion.

Memorable Theatrical Experiences

Aside from my deeply traumatic experience of seeing “The Exorcist” theatrically at the wildly inappropriate age of seven (I was raised by wolves), one film stands out for me as a true game changer. In the summer of 1977, at age ten, my kid sister and I went with family friends to see “Star Wars,” and everything you’ve heard and read secondhand was true; “Star Wars” was life changing. We experienced “Star Wars” at a nondescript multiplex in a Riverside, California mall on a modest-sized screen, but that movie rewrote my DNA as I watched. With its grand score, sound and visual effects, “Star Wars” ushered in several fundamental shifts in moviemaking technology as profound as the perfection of 3-strip Technicolor in the 1930s. Nearly 50 years later, I’ve seen movie studios still trying to recapture that unique alchemy of “Star Wars” in 1977.

After that first screening, I would go back to see “Star Wars” at least a dozen times theatrically (not counting the Special Edition rereleases in early 1997). My most memorable rewatch was at Mann’s Chinese Theatre (now the TCL Theatre) in late 1977. The film was projected in true 70mm on a giant screen, in a grand movie palace–with authentic Dolby stereo sound (most local theaters were monaural in those days). That was my first time seeing any movie in 70mm, though it wouldn’t be my last. Outside the lobby, in the “Court of the Stars,” I placed my 10-year old feet inside the cemented footsteps of actor Anthony Daniels (“C3PO”). Inside the lobby, Mann’s also gave out souvenir program booklets for “Star Wars,” and they was gorgeous–full of photos, with details of the story and characters, as well as actor/creator bios. I held onto that booklet for years, until it eventually fell apart with wear and time. Wish I had the foresight to hold onto it, but in those days, I didn’t collect–I enjoyed.

I recall other memorable Hollywood theatrical experiences at the American Cinematheque, or The Egyptian, as it was called in those days. When my dad took a vacation or had a three-day holiday weekend, we’d brave the Los Angeles freeways in our Volkswagen bus to catch an occasional blockbuster film. One of those was “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”; another life-changing experience. With its images of immense alien spacecraft filling the nighttime skies over Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, CE3K directly precipitated my fascination with stargazing, and my current 30 year membership with The Planetary Society. Rectifying our earlier mistake of seeing “JAWS” at a local drive-in, we would later see “JAWS 2” at the Egyptian in the summer of 1978. While not exactly a classic like its predecessor, seeing the film at the Egyptian certainly biased my own memories of it. In the summer of 1980, we would see “Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back” there as well, though we had to wait for my dad’s summer vacation for that. Being impatient, I used my allowance money to buy the Del Rey novelization. Reading spoilers in advance (including the Vader-Luke thing) didn’t ruin “Empire…” for me one iota. In fact, reading spoilers ahead of time allowed me to focus on the experience, not story mechanics. Seeing a first-run “Star Wars” film in a Hollywood movie palace was an incomparable moviegoing experience.

During my 20s, while living at my old bachelor apartment, I struck a balance between collecting laserdiscs and VHS tapes and going to the movies. One habit seemed to feed the other. Moviegoing meant inviting friends or occasionally going solo on a given night. If I missed a film theatrically, I’d rent it on tape or laserdisc from my local video store. If I was feeling too tired or lazy to go out, I’d plug in a laserdisc or tape from my collection, dim the lights, and enjoy a film at home, where I’d occasionally host movie nights, as well. Living within walking distance from a movie theater, going to the cinema was about as easy as hitting up a convenience store for toilet paper. In 1996, they opened a second theater only two blocks from my apartment. Living in a university town at the time, I attended a few midnight screenings too, which had livelier audiences, and a nice mix of classic and contemporary films. I remember going to see “Scream” at a midnight showing, and walking home alone after 2 am, completely unafraid (“Scream” was a tad overhyped). The wildly over-the-top action flick “Face/Off” also made for a memorably rowdy late-night screening. I’d also catch the Special Edition of “Star Wars: Return of the Jedi” in March of 1997, before rushing home and popping in my widescreen laserdisc to compare the changes made with the original. One habit truly fed the other…

After getting married, my wife and I would go to the movies less often, since we no longer had theaters within walking distance. Moviegoing has also become increasingly expensive, with new technologies such as reclining stadium seats, digital projection, Dolby Atmos sound, etc. raising ticket prices to the point where moviegoing has become closer to eating dinner at a fine restaurant. Nevertheless, a very memorable moviegoing experience occurred only 11 years ago with the opening of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” in December of 2015. This was shortly before assigned movie seating caught on in SoCal theaters, so I volunteered to wait the entire day to ensure that we’d get good seats. What happened that day was kinda magical–like an impromptu, Star Wars-version of Woodstock. When I arrived at the AMC theater’s rooftop parking area, I found it’d been converted into a massive queue. I was about tenth or so in line, but over the day, hundreds more joined us, and soon there were laptop screenings of the original trilogy, boomboxes playing John Williams’ soundtracks, and even impromptu toy lightsaber duels. For myself, I brought my copy of J. W. Rinzler’s “The Making of Star Wars” and a camp chair to help pass the time. Around five that evening, my wife and a friend of ours joined me, and we managed to score near-perfect seats for a 3D IMAX presentation. It was pure, undiluted fandom.

Note: That AMC theater is located on the northwest corner of the same Riverside mall where I first saw “Star Wars” back in 1977. The old UA Cinema used to be on the northeast corner of that mall, but it razed in the late 1990s, and is now a Barnes & Noble bookstore. Not a bad trade…

On an anniversary trip to Catalina Island last summer (my wife and I honeymooned there in 1999), we took a self-guided tour inside of the Avalon Casino–a 1930s hangout for the rich and famous back in the day. It also gave me my first look at the island’s oldest movie theater; the Avalon Theatre at Catalina, which was built in 1929, and was the first in SoCal to feature built-in sound. While my wife and I didn’t actually see a movie that afternoon, the theater gave off overpowering period vibes. Catalina Island itself was one of the locations seen in director Roman Polanski’s retro film-noir, “Chinatown” (1974), and there’s still a lot of 1930s-detailing here and there. The curved walls of the domed theater features exquisite mural artwork inspired by life on the island. There’s also a giant mosaic on the exterior of the casino’s entranceway, featuring Neptune, mermaids, and other bits of oceanic mythological lore. My wife and I are planning to go back this summer, and I told her I am determined to see a movie–any movie–at the Avalon Cinema, just for the experience. Sometimes the theater itself is the feature.

A bit closer to home, my wife and I saw “JAWS” in 2D IMAX for the movie’s 50th anniversary at the Regal IMAX Theatre at Ontario, California. The Regal IMAX is the largest IMAX screen in SoCal, and it lives up to its reputation. Just climbing the stairs to get to our seats was like scaling K2. At 67 ft. tall, the screen is roughly seven stories high. While “JAWS” was not filmed for IMAX, seeing it on that massive screen felt like I’d finally amended my past regret of seeing “JAWS” piecemeal that first time in 1975. It’s very telling that one of the best times I had in a movie theater last year was for a 50-year old blockbuster.

Note: The Regal at Ontario (nee: Edwards at Ontario) was also the same theater where I met my future wife when we met with friends to see “Batman & Robin,” 26 years earlier.

Speaking of oldies but goodies, last October I bought a solo ticket (my wife was busy) to see the 1922 silent horror classic “Nosferatu.” The movie was presented at the Mission Inn Hotel in downtown Riverside on an improvised movie screen, with live organist William Zietler playing the movie’s score on a 100 year-old restored organ. Zietler’s soundtrack for the film was a moody, mesmerizing blend of classic and original music. For anyone who’s curious, I’ve written about the experience in this link. I have a number of silent movies in my film collection, but this was the first time I’d seen a silent film in a public venue, and it was magnificent. The entire audience was completely spellbound.

Another moviegoing ‘first’ for me came only this past January, when our friend Ali invited my wife and I to see a film being presented in the Palm Springs International Film Festival. In many years of moviegoing, I’d never attended a film festival until that invite. While the screening took place at an ordinary Palm Springs Regal Cinema, there were score cards handed out to the audience, as well as a Q & A with the producer afterward. The movie was  “Aún es de Noche en Caracas,” (“It Would be Night in Caracas”) a 2025 Mexican-Venezuelan coproduction that chronicles a woman’s desperate attempt to escape 2017 Venezuela during a brutal, terrifying humanitarian crisis. That January screening took on even greater relevance, as the United States military had just invaded Venezuela that same week.

COVID-19: The Game Changer

Moviegoing came to a screeching halt in March of 2020 when a lockdown was ordered following a deadly outbreak of a then-new respiratory virus called COVID-19. In fact, I was attending a funeral for a friend’s husband when my wife texted me that her school had just gone into lockdown and that she was coming home early. That lockdown lasted months. As daily death tolls rose into the thousands, masks became mandatory at all essential businesses, such as hospitals and grocery stores. Many non-critical businesses closed altogether, including barber shops, restaurants, retailers, and of course, movie theaters.

During this dark time, our friend Ali bought herself an inexpensive digital projector to enjoy an approximated theatrical experience at home. One night in May of 2020, she invited my wife and I and a few other friends for a masked, outdoor movie night on her patio. With comfy lawn chairs and a small-but-potent Bluetooth speaker, we enjoyed a much-needed screening of the 2019 murder-mystery comedy “Knives Out” projected onto her patio wall. That night was another moviegoing experience that changed my life, albeit in a very different way. I realized digital movie projection was a perfect coping mechanism for my moviegoing withdrawal. My wife and I immediately bought a 7 ft/2-meter collapsible screen, since our house lacked the open wall space of Ali’s patio, and we went through a couple of cheap beginner’s models before settling on a high-quality Epson EF-12 portable HD projector. It’s been our movie night standard ever since.

Soon, my wife and I hosted our own movie nights during the COVID lockdown, including masked outdoor screenings of “Bill & Ted Face the Music,” the live-action remake of “Mulan,” and a downright therapeutic Halloween season screening of “The Nightmare Before Christmas” for our friends and our neighbor’s kids. As restrictions for COVID-19 eased, my wife and I began hosting movie nights inside of our garage, after realizing mosquitoes also enjoyed outdoor screenings. Our easily assembled/dismantled ‘garage theater’ also made occasional bad weather irrelevant as well. After our friends’ young son Joshua came out as a fellow movie-geek, we began hosting garage theater nights for he and his family. Those screenings included the original Star Wars trilogy, as well as a few Steven Spielberg classics, such as “JAWS,” “Jurassic Park,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” and the “Back to the Future” trilogy (which we marathoned in a single day). Joshua loved them all.

Screening movies at home via digital projectors is the cinematic equivalent of learning how to cook and preparing a homemade dinner for your guests. Sitting close to a 7 ft home screen approximates the same immersion as sitting half an auditorium away from a 45 ft movie screen. It’s the seat-to-screen distance that matters, not screen size. After getting young Joshua hooked on Steven Spielberg movies and movie soundtracks, we still invite his family over for the occasional garage theater movie nights because tickets are free, the popcorn is always fresh, and restroom breaks are just a pause button away. But can it fully replace the theatrical experience?

Part of the Problem

Unfortunately, my aging demographic isn’t necessarily the target audience for most movies made these days, and that’s perfectly okay, since most ‘new’ movies (with rare exceptions) seem like part of an endless parade of overused IPs, tired sequels and pointless remakes. More often than not, my wife and I will watch a new movie trailer, and make a snap judgment–is it worth going out for, or is it better viewed at home?

If a movie holds only mild interest, it’s much easier to pull out the collapsible screen, sit back in our comfy chairs, and stream it on our trusty Epson. Instead of baking my own bread or cutting my own hair, I took up movie projection during the COVID lockdown, and I dare say, I do a fairly decent job of it now. While it saddens me that the movie industry never fully recovered from the beating it took during the pandemic, I also realize that reluctant moviegoers like myself are part of the problem. To that end, I still try to support smaller films or unique screenings whenever I can, but I’m getting older, and it’s become easier, cheaper and faster to do a reasonable quality screening at home these days.

Nevertheless, there are still a few occasions where my wife and I are determined to see a film theatrically. As mentioned above, seeing “JAWS” in full IMAX splendor was everything we’d hoped. This past March, we attended an opening night screening of “Project Hail Mary” in a smaller ‘faux-MAX’ screening, and it was, in the words of the movie’s Rocky, “Amaze amaze amaze!” Being a huge fan of Andy Weir’s books, and being suitably blown away its first trailer last year, “Project Hail Mary” was, in fact, the only movie I was honestly looking forward to this year. Could I have waited for the Blu-ray and watched “Project Hail Mary” at home? Absolutely, but sometimes, you have to support your passions. For me, it was less about the majesty of the moviegoing experience, and more about my own elderly impatience with waiting for the home video release. In fact, my wife and I are going to see it again this week with our friend Ali. I can’t begin to tell you how rare it is for us to see a new film more than once theatrically these days, but this is one of those movies…

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that because of sheer expense, effort, age, and other factors, I will never again be the multiple-times-a-month moviegoer I was in my 20s. I’m also realizing this is why my demographic is largely ignored in pop culture advertising, save for shiny new mobility-assistance devices, hemorrhoid medications, or a new Rolling Stones album. All the same, I still love movies and I still watch them as often as ever, even if don’t actively seek them out as frequently as I once did. I hope newer generations will take up moviegoing as I age out of it, but many seem more interested in watching movies on their phones. Whenever I do go to see movies, there’s always a few glowing phones in the audience, like fireflies in a darkened marsh. That double-edged sword of technology also allows people like me to stay home and be our own projectionists.

Despite new theatrical ‘innovations’ such as 4D’s gyrating seats (I want a story, not a damn ride), or AI-slop ‘enhanced’ screenings of “The Wizard of Oz” at The Sphere in Las Vegas, I think moviegoing will eventually become a boutique experience, like collecting vinyl records. The COVID pandemic only accelerated our collective cultural introversion, as we live online (for better and worse) with the same energy we used to have for meeting friends at the mall, or enjoying a night together at the movies. Whatever happens next, I’ll still go to the movies whenever I can, if only for nostalgia’s sake and to support what I love in that great “democracy in the dark.”