When Boris Johnson officially announced the UK’s ‘roadmap’ out of lockdown, the date that brought me the most joy was not June 21st.
Am I excited to have my freedom returned to me? To have that first, uninhibited indoor pint? To shop for clothes without the uncertainty of an online size guide? To form sudden, fleeting but genuinely deep friendships with total strangers in a women’s bathroom? Of course.
And yet somehow, while most people around me pine for restaurants, retail, pubs and long-awaited personal grooming, what I am truly desperate to do is to get back to a cinema.
“The movie was chaotic, confusing and exceptionally loud. It was also the best treat I’d had all year.”
The last time seems like forever ago. October 2020, in that short but sweet period last year during which movie-going was allowed again. I went with a friend to see Tenet, the only major blockbuster unfortunate enough to decide to forge ahead with its planned international cinema release during a global pandemic. The movie was chaotic, confusing and exceptionally loud. It was also the best treat I’d had all year.
Necessary escapism
Among the many small joys of everyday life that the pandemic has ruined (along with absolutely everything else), the cinema is up there with the most cruel deprivations. In a time where an escape route from reality is so desperately needed, cinemas – the home of escapism – have been forced to close their doors in perpetual lockdown.
And while it’s true that an endless supply of streaming services has meant we’ve barely missed a beat in new film releases over the past year, I cannot be alone in wishing that we could view those films on a screen that is not, for once, the one in our own living room.
I am sick of trying to watch films on my ancient Panasonic TV the size of a stove top while my neighbours’ children scream through the wall. I am at my wits’ end pausing the movie every 15 minutes because my boyfriend gets up to go to the bathroom unreasonably often, or because the Amazon delivery guy buzzed our flat instead of downstairs. Again. I am done with buffering pictures that move only at the mercy of my extremely dodgy wifi.
I miss giant screens in pitch-black-dark rooms. I miss popcorn and enforced silence. I even miss the pang of anxiety that comes when I see someone still using their phone as the very last trailer is wrapping up and the opening credits are about to appear.
An unbeatable experience
And it’s not just the experience of watching the film itself that we’ve lost. Lately, I find myself desperate for the routine around movie-going as an actual activity. A movie day used to involve leaving my house to meet friends outside the theatre. It meant walking into the lobby and being almost literally smacked in the face by that magnificent smell of salt and butter (a scent only rivalled by Subway in its consistency across every corner of the world). It meant carefully selecting my seats and snacks to curate the perfect viewing experience, so all that was left to do was to sit down, settle in and wait for the lights to dim. It really was the best moment of any week.
“But the truth is that there is simply no replacement for seeing a movie in a cinema, since there are precious few other places in this world that can work the kind of magic that cinemas do”
To many people, this may seem silly. I’m well aware that the vast majority of us welcomed the accessibility of films being streamed to our couches as a gift in the depths of lockdown, and probably aren’t rushing to pay 10 times the price to watch one in a cinema any time soon. I get that.
But the truth is that there is simply no replacement for seeing a movie in a cinema, since there are precious few other places in this world that can work the kind of magic that cinemas do; the magic that makes us laugh harder, scare easier, cry more freely and have way more fun than we ever could watching at home.
Not the same
“At its heart, going to the movies is a communal activity”
The experience is undeniably different. Cinemas both demand our complete attention and also allow us to let go entirely. They require us to be fully present while also giving our brain an alternate space to exist. What’s more, I can quite honestly count on one hand the situations in my life where my phone is switched off and my mouth is shut for two straight hours – and the cinema is a guarantee.
I don’t just miss it for myself, though. At its heart, going to the movies is a communal activity, something the pandemic has made almost extinct. Like so many things we are all desperate to get back when restrictions finally end, it is best shared, and I really can’t wait to share it again.
Cinemas can start to open again across parts of the UK from May 17th, and the minute I can, I’ll be donning a mask and marching myself up to the counter at my local Vue for one ticket to a socially-distanced session of Whatever the Hell is On Today.
I hope I won’t be the only one.
Tess Green
Feature image courtesy of Jake Hills on Unsplash. Image license found here. No changes were made to the image.
