My local cinema did a Scorsese run recently. I caught as many as I could, and while it was obviously great fun, the whole experience really opened my eyes to how watching movies in isolation can rob us of something the directors worked so hard to create.
Night one was Taxi Driver. I’ve seen it countless times. However, watching it in a completely packed theatre allowed me to see the story through a whole new lens.
To my surprise, people around me were laughing through the first half like it was a Judd Apatow rom-com. Here’s this goofy guy repeatedly messing up his chances with this absolute smoke show and everyone was laughing at his lack of self awareness. Even the Mohawk reveal got a huge laugh from the audience.
The strange thing is, this caught me off guard. I’d always watched Taxi Driver either alone or with one or two friends. When I first discovered it, most of the takes I heard came from film students a few years older than me. They’d stroke their patchy beards and say the cliche things like, “It’s an observation on loneliness…” or “It’s about the irony of a man becoming isolated in a busy city…”
And, like it or not, I think that primed me to watch Taxi Driver solely as this serious, artsy statement about society. The film left a huge mark on me, but in hindsight those early interpretations shaped the way I approached it.
Most of my subsequent viewings were still alone or with one or two people, so I never really had much reason to challenge that mindset.
Skip forward to this most recent viewing, and the communal laughter genuinely nudged me into a different mode of experiencing the film. Suddenly Travis’s romantic endeavours had this flawed, awkward, very human quality to them that I’d never fully appreciated before. It grounded him as a character, which ultimately made where he goes and the decisions he makes later feel even more disturbing.
It didn’t stop there though, Night two was Goodfellas. Obviously it has some incredibly funny moments (funny how?) Watching it at home I’ll laugh or grin. But in a packed cinema, my face was hurting from laughing.
And strangely, all that laughter pulled me deeper into Henry’s friendship group more than any home viewing ever had. You get swept up in their charisma and the ridiculousness of their world. Which means when things unravel and Henry, Jimmy and the others start making increasingly desperate decisions, they somehow feel bigger.
There were similar experiences with his other work but I don’t want to bombard this post with examples as I think you get the point….
You’re probably reading this thinking, “Duh, cinema beats watching movies at home any day of the week” But that’s not really my point. My point is that these visits reminded me of the importance of simply watching films with a bunch of other human beings.
Something happens to your brain in those dark rooms full of strangers that I don’t think we really have the words to describe. You laugh because other people laugh. You feel tension moving through the room. You notice things because somebody else reacts to them. And I think somehow the collective experience pushes your mind into a more open, human way of engaging with what’s on screen.
So if you ever get the opportunity to see a film you love in a packed cinema, even if you’ve watched it a hundred times, go. You might discover something in it that you’d assumed you’d already gleaned everything you possibly could from. You might even come away with some fresh patchy-beard observations of your own.