First all the theaters closed.  Then some of them reopened, and people had to keep their distance, wearing masks.  Then some theaters closed for good.

Now two years on since the Pandemic closed things, my viewing habits have switched to tv, and tv series.  I miss going to the movies, and have tried to keep up with what is currently being offered, but it seems there is a preponderance of horror, science fiction, and superhero movies, none of which are my first choice when it comes to movies.  I prefer comedies, realistic stories, movies where I find the characters and plot lines believable., even recognizable.

I realize we are living in a dystopian era.  That most movies reflect this — what could outdo the everyday crises we face in the news — climate change, migration catastrophes, political polarity, income disparity, health disasters, — of course, ghouls and goblins and things that go bump in the night.  Science fiction that seems barely a stretch.  Superheroes who might actually save us.  I get it.  And then there are the sweet cartoon movies — even those reflect a cynical bent– witness the Steve Carell franchise Despicable Me with the hilariously double talking creatures, the minions.  

TV viewing is easier.  You don’t have to leave your home, or risk sitting near an unhealthy patron. On TV, there are millions of choices.  As Bramhall points out in his cartoon, millions of choices, means thousands of hours figuring out which one to watch.  The series are legend in their sophistication, depth of subject.  I have not watched “Succession” or “Breaking Bad,” but acknowledge how important they are.  I prefer humor, things like the Irish comedy The “Derry Girls,” and “The Detectorists,” things that are light and usually from the UK.  The “IT Crowd” has aged remarkably well.  For a while we were re-watching “30 Rock,” and then Alex Baldwin got into trouble, and everything looked unappetizing.  Now I am watching “The Outlaws,” mostly because of Christopher Walken, who frankly seems miscast, but his line readings remain strangely worth watching.  And everyone else in the cast is perfect.

When you go to the Netflix table of contents under TV there are over two dozen categories.  It is not hard to find “Squid Game,” and other best-selling shows when they are current, but going for a deep dive for one that is older can take patience.  This is not how going to the movies was, where you read a positive review, or heard it raved about by a friend, located the theater where it was playing, and went there, ponied up the money to watch, and sat with a bunch of strangers in the dark.  

TV watching is in your house, under your schedule, interrupted by meals, or obligations, or whatever comes up, and in the company of friends or relations, or by yourself.  It is more random in a way, considering the volumes of content at your disposal (unless you want to watch MLB baseball and are not in the zone of your home team) and yet way more controlled.  To watch that one series, like “Ted Lasso,” you have to pay for Apple TV.  Another show requires a Hulu subscription.  At one point I was worried about all the one week free intro prices, and realized this could get to be more expensive than cable tv.  As an older person, that is the kind of plan I had been used to, and now am starting to catch on to the pick and choose method of watching a bunch of different things on different networks.

All I can say is that I miss going to the movies, in a theater, with a bunch of strangers, in the dark.  It provided a kind of focus singularly lacking from binge watching something like “Squid Game” whose purpose seems to be to make you completely anxious, worried and depressed. I admire the production of Squid Game, with its dystopian focus and increasing suspense with each episode.

There are movies that have that effect, but when you left the theater the lights had come on, signaling you are back in the real world now, and the movie is over, and you can mull it over, whereas with binge watching tv, you are probably in a room where you turn the lights on when you feel like it, maybe right next to your kitchen where you could sneak away at lulls in the story to fetch a snack.  You don’t have to be dressed in street clothes.  You might be completely alone because your husband can’t stand the vibe of the show.

An article in the Times about the return of the projectionist of 35 millimeter film points out the difference between digitized and projected film.  Scorsese describes the skill of the projectionist as having to “be someone who is truly in love with the feeling of film in their hands, the tasks of cleaning it and threading it correctly through the projector so that it has the right amount of tension, and of course, the moving image itself, coming to life frame by frame.”  A viewer at MOMA, who had just watched a movie projected, described how she appreciated the luminosity of the image.  

Of course, that is going way back, over ten years, to when movies required projectionists.  I think fondly of Buster Keaton in his movie about such a worker, how he falls asleep and imagines himself as the hero of a movie as he jumps into the action on screen.  It is that kind of magic that can happen when you project yourself onto the screen, that I think is missing from television series, or things we watch at home.  

I look forward to returning to the city where I will have access to movies again. Movies of all kinds, not just the blockbusters that yield the most profits.

I would invite anyone reading these thoughts to debate with me about how you feel about the movies right now.