Going to the Movies Alone.

Going to the Movies alone.

Film in our society is not simply projected art upon a screen, that much is obvious. Much has been said about the meaning or value of art as a social medium, the idea that film is so much more than simple entertainment. These, however interesting they are, are not what I choose to focus on. Going to the movies is a particular social ritual preformed by people in our society. You, a date, a friend, your parents, sit and look despondently at each other.
What do you want to do?
I dunno, how about you?
I don’t care, anything.
Thus, the most passive activity available to most social classes is chosen. Let’s go see a movie. So, you and company, they, whoever grabs their things and set out to watch a movie, to have something to talk about.

The key word here is “we”, the activity is a plural one. I am aware that I am speaking specifically to North American society, and about a mainstream attitude within that populace. So, if you have happened to be a french film student, this ramble may seem like a simple oddity. A poorly written one at that.

Lo to the one who goes to a movie alone. It seems to be written in blood somewhere in North America that such a thing is considered blasphemy against decency. The punishment? Surprised, almost offended looks that say either two things: What has this person done to be ostracized so? Can no know how stand his presence long enough to make it through on measly film? Or, pity that poor man has been stood up. What does this mean? And more importantly why such heavy stigma?

It’s a difficult thing to explain, like most social taboos and norms, they are so ingrained that one rarely confronts them. I am no expert, I have no degree in social control or psychology has it’s called in less honest circles. I am a humble cinenophile, who happens to enjoy watching films, and sometimes going alone is an inevitability. How to proceed then? I propose that instead of speaking in generalities, I’ll speak from a personal point of view, talk through the lead up to the first time I went to a film alone.

The year was 2010, April, the Calgary Underground FIlm Festival. For any lovers of film out there, who get terribly annoyed at the constant efforts of the more mainstream Calgary International film festival to appear like some sort of New York art gallery, Champagne commercials with Scarlet Johansen and all, the underground fest is refreshing. Anyways, I find myself with a pass with five admissions on it, I thought well this is an uneven number, I’ll only be able to “bring” someone, in the financial sense, for the first two. The last film will have to be experienced alone by me. It took all of about 30 seconds to get comfortable with the idea. No problem I thought, people do that all the time.

The first film I wanted to see approaches, the Disappearance of Alice Creed, so I ask the usual people if they wanted to go. An avalanche of No’s ensues. Desperate, I posted on my now dead Facebook page: If anyone wants to see a free movie (I linked information about the film) meet me at the theater. Nothing. No responses.

I remember approaching the plaza thinking, this is it, I’m about to watch a movie by myself. I knew it was real when I walked into the theater, and the lady at the admission box asked, with an odd kind of smile:
“Just one?”
“Just one” I repeated, with the severity of a monk completing some sort of epic pilgrimage. She nods a bit, and tears me a ticket.

And I walk into the darkness.

I am habitual early for films, I’m terrified of being late. I think somewhere in my mind there is a fear that the film maker will be in the theater, see me come in late, stand up and shout “this man has no respect for film” and challenge me to a dual. Anyways, the theater is near empty, so I pick a seat as close to the center as possible. As I take my sit, I remember thinking to myself “Well, this isn’t so bad”. As people started to fill the place, that situation changed. The most startling thing was watching people who were at one moment laughing and smiling, and the instant their gaze fell to me their faces grew concerned or almost afraid of that man sitting a theater alone.

The worst part is not the stares however, it’s what happenings as the theaters becomes more and more full. This is an aspect of watching films alone is often overlooked, which is understandable. You see, rows of seats are usually odd numbers, and most people watch movies in pairs at least. Usually, if the film being played is brand spanking new or extremely popular, people find ways to fill every seat in the house. But usually, there are a few vacant ones left as buffer zones between couples and groups. In an ideal world, people sitting by themselves like this humble writer, would be seated in these seats. However, this is hardly fair to those like me who arrive shockingly early. So what happens is, your often sitting beside one empty seat, and as the later people starting filling the space, they look at you sitting there and think, that would be a great spot, if that one guy wasn’t using it. Because, unless another loner comes in, that spot is pretty much yours.

I can think of a few different sociological, or maybe even philosophical explanations as to why this is. It could be that our society has created a stigma to people who are alone in public spaces because of a general fear of being alone, a fear of facing ourselves. Are we so unsure our own emotions, of our own thoughts that we have to verify them by bouncing them off someone else, to see if they are shared, so that they conform? Or is just so that theater companies can make more money off of admission tickets and popcorn? I don’t know, but frankly it’s fucking annoying. If I look at a painting or even go to a concert by myself one isn’t as nowhere as shunned as when you dare see a movie by yourself. Until some one comes up with a rational reason as to why one has to be with someone else to watch a film, I will continue to venture to cinema alone, regardless of the mean stares and awkward looks.