The Magic Of Going To The Movies

What we lose when we stream at home. Plus, sustainable sugar bras.

Aug 29, 2021

It was an exciting week because… I went to the movies! To be honest, there weren’t many social activities I missed during the pandemic. I liked that it became socially responsible to avoid bars and I’d be happy to never step foot in a club again. But come awards season last winter, I realized just how much I missed going to the movies. Still, there was no way I was sitting in a confined space with a bunch of strangers for an extended period of time amidst the threat of an airborne virus. And I wasn’t the only one—the film industry lost $32 billion in ticket sales last year. Sadly, the pandemic accelerated an existing trend—the decline of the cinema.

As our at-home screens get bigger and better and the selection of streaming options grows, it’s become harder to justify schlepping out to the theatre. For those with limited means—be it physical or financial—the democratization of movie-watching has been liberating; enabling more people to consume art. For everyone else, the ease of at-home streaming has been too tempting to resist—we’re increasingly used to having the ability to maximize our personal comfort. Why sit in a stiff chair behind a row of obnoxious teenagers when you could be nestled up on your couch with homemade snacks?

Perhaps we’ve become less inclined to go to the movies because it means surrendering control. No one is asking you what time you’d like to start and stop the film. No, they can’t turn up the volume and no, they can’t rewind after your bathroom break. Your needs as the viewer come second to the intent of the filmmaker. At home, we can give into the urge to Google that actor we recognize or pause the movie to warm up snacks—everything is on our terms. We become the center of the film; an active participant in its consumption and we like the sense of agency this gives us.

But there is so much to gain from the loss of control we experience in the theatre. The unexpected reactions from the crowd—building silent tension; the collective gasp; a sudden burst of laughter—shape our interpretation of the story. The pitch-darkness, the big screen, the booming speakers—the movie takes on a life of its own and you, unplugged from all your other devices, become immersed in it. If anything, this means you actually become more of an active participant than when you’re watching at home.

Above all else, going to the movies is a practice in commitment. Sure, you can leave if you want to, but it’s much harder to opt out when you feel even slightly less than satisfied. In our age of immediate gratification, there’s value in devoting your undivided attention to something. Is anyone actually capable of watching a movie at home, start-to-finish, without giving in to all the distractions? In that two hour span, I’ve paid bills, stretched on the floor and (as much as I hate to admit it) probably scrolled on Instagram. In the theatre, my mind can wander, but my body is forced to sit still.

It’s no surprise then that I always, no matter the genre of film, leave the theatre feeling refreshed. The full sensory experience is almost meditative in a way that watching on my own screen isn’t. Something magical happens in that safe, dark space—I’m freed from my identity; I become an anonymous viewer. At home, surrounded by the familiar visual markers of my life and notified by reminders of my own social world, there is no freedom from the self. Maybe it’s why us introverts love going to the movies for dates, friend hangs or even alone—there is less pressure to uphold the image we have of ourselves.

And by giving up ourselves, we surrender to the needs of others. We prioritize the needs of the obnoxious popcorn eater behind us by living with the low grade irritation each crunch elicits; we prioritize the desires of the filmmaker by sitting through a scene that makes us uncomfortable without leaving. Giving our dollar to the local cinema instead of the streaming service, we contribute to our physical community by ensuring we still have spaces to gather as a collective, rather than uphold the ability of individuals to fulfill their viewing preferences around the world.

So—while I’m hesitant to encourage any kind of social gathering—if your local cinema is open and offering distanced viewings, I highly recommend paying them a visit. Even if you end up hating the film—going to the movies is about so much more than the movie. I will never take it for granted again.

Best,

Anna

P.S. What movies have you watched recently (at home or in theatres)? Send me your recommendations!

Published 📝

Forbes - Gelmart Pushes Sustainable Intimates Innovation With New Sugarcane-Based Bra

Sustainable fashion is nothing new. But I was surprised to learn that the bra category, despite the pad’s over 40-year-history and particularly harmful environmental impacts, continues to lag behind in eco-friendly design.

Why is it taking so long for the lingerie industry to take sustainability seriously?

Yossi Nasser, the CEO of intimates manufacturer Gelmart, thinks there are two reasons:

1) Most lingerie brands devote all their resources to size-inclusivity.

2) The intimates market is dominated by a few big companies (hello Victoria’s Secret), meaning there is less pressure to change.

The goods news? The fewer the players, the greater potential for impact—all it takes is one big brand to spark the domino effect. Nasser hopes that by selling Gelmart’s new sugarcane-based bra through Walmart, a mass retailer with expansive visibility, consumers will drive demand for more eco-friendly options.

Reading 📖

😴 Why your summer fatigue feels like that second-day soreness after a hard workout you just can’t shake.

“There were hundreds of articles on the difficulties of parenting during a pandemic but there were just a handful that acknowledged the challenges of eldercare. No one talked about the specific grief of your parent being in a retirement community, and knowing that you’ve probably missed their last lucid window.” - Liz O’Donnell.

🎥 How the movies are changing.

“The question isn’t whether the movies will survive, as a pastime, a destination and an imaginative resource. It’s whether the kind of freedom that ‘going to the movies’ has represented in the past can be preserved in a technological environment that offers endless entertainment at the price of submission.” - A.O. Scott

🤳🏻 Questioning if I’m in a parasocial relationship to TV, podcasts and my phone.

“Parasocial media in itself is not the problem but the expression of deeper hunger for belonging amid structures that can’t sustain it, scrolling through tempting, evanescent, one-sided interactions that engage our attention while rarely delivering on the promise that we can be seen and known, as individuals, as friends.” - Brendan Mackie.

🎬 We’re finally seeing more disabled stories on screen but where are the disabled actors?

🎓 A new comedy series and mother-daughter horror film starring Sandra Oh. I can’t wait.

😂 The COVID catharsis of Ali Wong.

📺 Your next TV series will probably be based on a book.

📚 I miss the way we read in the 90s. (Can we please bring back Scholastic?).

“Setting aside an afternoon to read is a marker of a different kind of youth. To lose it is to lose something that you can never get back, something that for young women and queer non-binary people, was hard-won and fought for.” - Nikki Darling.

☀️ Also contemplating the summer read.

🛒 And the history (and future) of Canadian grocery stores.

🍜 Why do we still have the ethnic aisle anyway?

“While many of the European foods eventually migrated out of the section, most of the foods from other parts remained.” - Priya Krishna.

🍖 On photographing that famous nude shot of Bourdain.

Watching 📺

Now that theatres have re-opened, I’m finally watching all the Oscar films I (embarrassingly) didn’t see earlier this year.

I was kind of disappointed with Nomadland but only because my expectations were unrealistically high. I should’ve known I could only be so taken—I’m not a huge Frances McDormand fan. But it was beautifully shot, and I appreciate any film that centers an older women. The departure from a glamorized young nomad running away from their problems (see: Into The Wild and Wild) was also refreshing. It’s a hard truth that many across Canada and the U.S. are forced to roam, and keep working, simply to survive, even at the age of retirement.

Another refreshing female-centered film? Promising Young Woman. Director Emerald Fennell reimagines the traditional rape revenge narrative, with several shocking plot twists and a biting, perfectly-dressed Carey Mulligan. I just wish we got to see the dead best friend Nina—her absence erases some of her agency; the rape victim becomes just another Jane Doe. And the bleak ending made me question what justice actually looks like for survivors.

Minari was my favorite of all three. While the first two are obvious departures from the typical narratives of their respective genres, Minari’s refreshing take on the immigrant story was more subtle. I’ve never watched an immigrant story where the local white folks feel so foreign. And even though I’m half Korean, I rarely see my upbringing in stories about Korean-born families. But here, because director Isaac Chung Lee builds the story from inside the Yi family and focuses on universal themes, I was able to feel their alienation, even if it was different from my own experience.

Oh and I finally watched Roadrunner, the doc about Bourdain. I loved the archival footage of the chef in his youth, behind-the-scenes of his early filming days on the road and learning of his introversion and shyness. Really, it’s a film about Bourdain’s relentless pursuit of happiness. The A.I. voiceover also wasn’t as awkward as I expected.

Listening 🎧

One of my favorite parts of going to the movies is talking about them after—podcast reviews let me pretend I have an entourage of film buff friends to gab with. So I’ve been devouring all the critical acclaim for the movies I’m catching up on.

Two standout episodes:

✈️ An old Fresh Air interview with Anthony Bourdain.

“There's nothing actually more political than food — who's eating, who's not eating. I found it's just very, very useful to not be a journalist. Journalists drop into a situation, ask a question. People tighten up. Whereas if you sit down with people who just say, ‘hey, what makes you happy? What's your life like? What do you like to eat?’ More often than not, they will tell you extraordinary things, many of which have nothing to do with food.” -Anthony Bourdain.

🥢 Chef David Chang’s interview with Minari director Lee Isaac Chung.

Chang talks about the improved availability of immigrant foods in the U.S.; how it takes several decades before the supply of foods from a diaspora’s native country catches up.

They also talk Asian American representation in film and how the questions Chung received in interviews reveal where people are at when it comes to race. Chung says they strategically highlight that the family moved from California at the beginning of the film to avoid the stereotypical immigrant story and instead emphasize universal issues, like family and love. Yet it was still perceived as an immigration story.

I love when Dave calls Youn Yuh-Jung the “Korean Meryl Streep,” and Chung corrects him—“No, Meryl Streep is the American Youn Yuh-Jung.”