Why Don't I Remember Movies I Stream?

You may not always like them but cinemas matter more than you think

I used to be someone who wasn’t too concerned with the impending death of the movie theater. In my defense, it was the early days of streaming before Netflix was spending half a billion dollars on things like The Electric State, and the allure of having total control over your movie watching experience was appealing to me.

Sometime in the past year, though, something changed. Movie theaters are on their last leg, and it doesn’t feel good. Consider this my mea culpa to the AMC 20 in my hometown of Independence, Missouri. I never should have disrespected you, warts* and all.

*bed bugs

Don’t get me wrong — I do have my qualms with modern movie theaters. Movie-watching etiquette has gone completely out the window, and a generation of theater-goers are bearing a really sad phone addiction for all to see (about 20% of teens use their phone throughout movies). Nevertheless, it’s a relic of a past time that I’m coming to appreciate more.

So, I’ve recently started hitting the theater a little bit harder. I bought an AMC Stubs membership. I was then immediately reimbursed for an AMC Stubs membership thanks to a class action lawsuit I didn’t know about. Now, my wife and I head to the theaters on Tuesday nights, paying $7 a ticket. In doing so, I’ve come to note how much more memorable a movie is when you take a trip to see it. Regardless of its quality or even how much I like it, each experience has left a faint-but-indelible little fingerprint on my brain.

For some reason, movies I stream just don’t do the same. I have explicit memories of some really, really bad movies I’ve seen at the theater. I can remember where I sat, what I was wearing, what the weather was, what I ate, which girl quietly sat next to me while I (poorly) tried to act like the seat was uncomfortably small for a 115 pound kid so that I could raise the arm rest between us, only to chicken out and leave it down. All of it.

A few of these inconsequential movies that now own permanent and prominent real estate in my psyche:

ngl space cowboys kinda rocked

All of these movies have one thing in common: they’re crap. Under no circumstances should anyone ever remember these films. They’re all an affront to the art form. But still, the gravity of the movie theater is such that my memories of seeing them are now a root file in my brain’s operating system.

On the flip side, I can tell you a lot of incredibly respected movies that I know I watched and definitely liked in the past ten years, but cannot recall a second of watching them — the circumstances, the plot, the soundtrack. Nada. Films like:

i do remember that the shape of water winning best picture was a tragedy though

This is not to say these aren’t good or that you can’t have memorable things happen in the confines of your home. I’m also open to the idea that I just have a strange brain. But I do think there is undeniably a difference between going to a movie and watching a movie. There’s a deliberativeness that is lost to the ether. I can still remember being forced to watch the Ocean Avenue music video being played on a loop before the trailers began to Ocean’s 12 (genius synergy). The voice of Casey Kasem instantly puts my feet on the sticky floors of a Regal Theater. You just feel different when you walk out the door disoriented because the summer sun has disappeared and the parking lot has emptied out. None of these things are in any way related to the movie, but they are all part of an experience.

It speaks to the shallowness of digital media and all the real things it continues to try to replace. Tapping to save an album on Spotify isn’t as rewarding as picking it up at record store on release day. Downloading an e-book or having it delivered by Amazon will never match the excitement of a midnight release party. Online gaming will never match whatever the hell this was.

sometimes memories can be bad, though. like the smell of a room that looks like this

At the Oscars this year, Best Director winner Sean Baker said in his acceptance speech, “Where did we fall in love with movies? At the movie theater. In a time in which our world can feel very divided, this is more important than ever: It’s a communal experience you simply don’t get at home.” And while the economic power of streaming companies do account for a lot of this, it ultimately is the audience driving the trend. My wife and I saw Mickey 17, which came out just three weeks ago. It’s a movie with a marketable star (Robert Pattison), a famous director (Bong Joon Ho of Parasite fame), and a story that’s fun as hell. It lost money because no one went to see it, and it will already be available to stream on April 8th. Why would you make a movie for the cinema when the audience will just decide to stay at home? Ultimately, if we want a life of memories — good and bad — the only way to get them is to be around other people. The world asks us sacrifice a little bit of discomfort in exchange for something lasting and rewarding, but we continue to deny it.

I’ve decided to start ending these things with a cool quote I like, so here’s a relevant one from My Dinner With Andre, which I recently streamed but it doesn’t count because it was in theaters before I was born okay!

“I wouldn't put on an electric blanket for any reason. First, I'd be worried if I get electrocuted. No, I don't trust technology. But I mean, the main thing, Wally, is that I think that kind of comfort just separates you from reality in a very direct way…don't you see that comfort can be dangerous? I mean, you like to be comfortable and I like to be comfortable, too, but comfort can lull you into a dangerous tranquility.”

Yours truly,

The Nut From The Observer