Some time ago, I had the pleasure of going somewhere I’ve gone hundreds of times before: the movies. Though moviegoing is an experience I sometimes take for granted, I almost always enjoy it. The immense screen no TV can match, the salted popcorn with a sweet Pepsi/Coke, and Hollywood's best efforts all provide a delectable adventure into our fine tradition of storytelling. Perhaps it’s hyperbolic to apply any of those terms to such a fiscal centric industry, but the tradition of communal storytelling never dazzles quite as much than at the multiplex.
So, I eagerly went to the movies, expecting a fun night and the chance to indulge in a new superhero film (I won't say which). While this wasn’t one of Hollywood's biggest releases, I was still excited to see how the studio approached a superhero origin story after the genre’s near over saturation in recent years.
Ultimately, I was destined for disappointment and received one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had in a theater. But that wasn’t the film’s fault. In fact, it was a mostly delightful film with a fresh take on the genre. Rather, it was the theater crowd, the audibly revolting group of cinemagoers that made the night unbearable.
For starters, a large family shuffled in late and slowly meandered to their seats for what felt like ten minutes. This wouldn’t have been so irksome if there were more than five rows in the entire theater, but there wasn’t, and seemingly impossible confusion ensued.
Still, they overcame the odds and found their seats, loudly bickering throughout several trailers as they did so. Perhaps worst of all, one of the kids brought an already glaring tablet to the film, bringing into question why anyone paid for his ticket.
However, save for a ten-minute venture to the bathroom during the film, that family was mostly quiet. Luckily though, there was a group of young adults across the theater who couldn’t stop talking if it would've won them the lottery.
Even better, they weren’t just commenting on the movie like your normal inconsiderate cinemagoer. Instead, they loudly talked in increasing levels of rowdiness until they started to make stupid, childish noises and play music aloud AS THE FILM ENDED.
Okay, I admit that I probably sound like an elderly curmudgeon who thinks that all young people suck. To be fair, I sometimes do. But this isn’t really about that. I don’t care about the generational gap much or how differently today’s youth have grown up.
What this is about is how going to the movies isn’t that fun anymore. Despite paying for tickets, popcorn, soda, and a decent film, nobody could enjoy their evening because of the abundance of morons that lingered in our theater.
Sadly, this was not an outlying experience. Multiple times last year, I saw films plagued with chattering audiences or parents who’ve brought kids that just aren’t ready for theaters yet. I understand wanting an easy night out, but when a child starts crying it’s the parent’s responsibility to attend to their kid and remove them from the theater.
I also understand taking a child to something like the new Minions film, but a few months back, some lady thought it was a brilliant idea to take her baby to the very R-rated Equalizer 3. Believe it or not, the child cried during the film, upsetting the audience and furthering my frustration.
Still, my focus is not to rant about the waning general courtesy of our fellow Americans (though that perhaps warrants an article someday). Instead, I’m lamenting the slow death of the movie theater, as they just no longer have the magic that they used to.
Most noticeably, prices have become ludicrously high. Tickets now easily run past ten dollars per person, while my last small popcorn and soda at a big chain theater cost a perplexing sixteen dollars. But that’s just for myself. Throw in an entire family of four, and you’re easily breaking eighty dollars, if not more.
These prices were more acceptable back when the movies were great experiences. But nowadays, these experiences have become increasingly risky with many trips being so easily ruined by talkative patrons.
In addition, many movies that come out these days are just okay. Throughout last year, I saw roughly thirty films in theaters and, although I enjoyed most of them, only a few were spectacular. The rest were just fine, but didn't really warrant what theaters are charging to see them.
Unfortunately, I’m not the only person to feel this way. Last year saw a slew of exciting films hit theaters only to bomb or massively underperform. Some of these include Transformers: Rise of the Beasts, The Flash, Shazam! Fury of the Gods, Haunted Mansion, and even the seemingly bankable Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny.
Although many of these films fizzled out with critics, nearly all of them were enjoyed by the people that did see them. None of these movies were God awful, but their just okayness failed to fill seats.
This wouldn’t be alarming if mediocre movies never made money. But they used to long ago, with many past maligned films like Alice in Wonderland (2010) and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018) bringing in billions. We seem to have reached a point where fine films aren’t enough to entice audiences to theaters, something I sadly must agree with.
Of course, big event films are still fine. While the MCU has struggled recently, large scale marketing campaigns capitalizing on audience anticipation catapulted Barbie, The Super Mario Bros. Movie, and Oppenheimer to great success last year.
But those movies, ranging from pretty good to utterly spectacular, succeeded by marketing themselves as can’t miss events and subsequently delivering. Those kinds of films will continue to thrive, at least in the foreseeable future. But the dwindling success of lower tier movies that would’ve been surefire profits five years ago worries me greatly.
It's no secret that movie theaters themselves have been struggling for years, even before the pandemic landed its vicious blow. From 1999 to 2019, about 1,500 individual theaters closed their doors in the US alone. This trend shows no signs of ceasing either, as Regal recently announced plans to close nearly 40 of their theaters, including one just 15 minutes from my house.
Only ten years ago, it seemed inconceivable that movie theaters could ever disappear, as they’ve remained a staple of the American cultural landscape since the 20’s. But as the shrinking number of malls can attest to, even the sturdiest of businesses can crumble given enough "progress."
Now, I don’t necessarily think that movie theaters are doomed to extinction. But the writing is on the wall and it’s not particularly hard to read; if current trends continue, movie theaters don’t stand a chance.
As discussed earlier, it’s not like theaters have much going for them anymore. They aren’t cheap, can’t always deliver great experiences, and come with equally inconsistent audiences.
When theaters had no alternatives, this wasn’t as much of a dealbreaker, but streaming’s success has completely overhauled everything. As streaming services like Netflix and Apple Plus continue to invest in both blockbuster and Oscar bait films, they're cementing themselves as the more cost-effective option for whatever audiences want.
I’m not arguing that streaming movies is even comparable to watching them on the big screen. A great film can become transformative when experienced in a theater. From the anticipation as soon as the trailer releases to the first impact of seeing that story unravel on screen, I relish every step of a movie’s journey.
However, that great theater experience seems to become a rarer event with each passing year. I also doubt that the months long strikes fostered any growth in Hollywood’s system. I am no pessimist, but movies undeniably seem to be in a dire state.
So, is it hopeless? Will movie theaters become the next drive-in theaters or dwindle away like shopping malls? It’s a certain possibility, but I still reserve hope for Hollywood’s survival.
While there were only a few undeniable box office successes in 2023, Barbie and Oppenheimer showed that mostly original content can still dominate if handled correctly. That both of those films also had budgets far under the typical 200 million that studios spend must be appetizing for CEO’s. Perhaps this will incur a renaissance of more thoughtful, creatively driven films that will sway us out of the just okay age we’re currently trapped in.
In addition, cinema’s biggest threat, streaming, isn’t impervious either. While it has thriven as a cheaper alternative to both cable and theaters, a multitude of streaming platforms have debuted since Netflix began its dominant run. Prices for these services, although costing around ten dollars each, add up quickly, especially if you want to ensure you don’t miss out on the latest show.
More concerningly, the number of different services means the already existing pool of content has been stretched quite thin. Anyone who uses Netflix can tell that their preexisting content has shrunk in size tremendously. As streaming services continue to debut, they not only offer less, but cost more, a combination that does not bode well for streaming’s future.
If that’s the case, theaters might just prove the numbers wrong and reclaim what they once were.
But what worries me most about theaters’ survival is that people simply don’t respect them anymore. Humans have been alive for centuries, but only since the 1920’s have we had access to movie theaters. Nearly everyone alive right now is privileged just to be able to go to a theater, spend fifteen bucks, and experience an enthralling story.
Movies provide unlimited possibilities in their ability to entertain, comment on society, or move us to feel something we never have before. They’re an artform that elevates nearly every level of storytelling. And yet, people couldn’t care less.
I’ll finish with a rumination about a scene from another recently failed film, Damien Chazelle’s Babylon (2022). The movie explores the excessive debauchery that surrounded Hollywood’s adolescence, including alcohol, drugs, sex, animal fights, and death.
Manny, (Diego Calva), played a pivotal role in many of these adventures, but by the film's end, he's sitting in a theater with his family decades later. They’re watching the classic Singin' in the Rain (1952), and everyone rapaciously laughs at the comedic take on Hollywood's transition to sound. Everyone except Manny, that is.
Instead, he remembers the real transition to sound for Hollywood, including the people who died to propel everything forward. He then reflects on the future he and his friends fostered, the large industry that stands because of what they sacrificed. Shots from films like Jurassic Park and Avatar play, as Manny realizes the effective legacy his work has.
This scene exemplifies what film is. Not a moneymaking machine or blind means of entertainment, but rather one of humanity’s greatest legacies. It is storytelling at the highest form, brought together by a community of artists for the communities of the world.
These stories are meant to unite everyone who participates, but we wouldn’t be able to without the pioneers and risktakers who ensured the industry would survive. Like the cinemagoers in Manny’s theater who take the film before them for granted, many audiences today have little grasp of how privileged they are just to watch movies.
Of all that survives after cultures decline, art often lasts the longest. Whether theaters survive or not, movies will exist in some fashion, maybe even longer than we do. But while we have the chance, we should never take for granted the silver screen they were intended to be experienced on.
I can’t say for certain how long theaters will exist, but I still consider myself blessed for the countless times that I’ve been to the cinema. I hope that anyone who has read this article will also feel blessed the next time they hold popcorn in their hands before the enormous screen, experiencing only the stuff that our dreams are made of.
