Maybe it all went over my head, but “Clint Eastwood makes a comedy” makes me think “Every Which Way But Loose” not “Gran Turino”

There were funny parts, but I’d put it in the Drama section next to “Cool Hand Luke” (not a lot of D’s through F’s in that section :D)

For the record, I saw one of these movies, Milk, and I think that was the only movie I saw in the theater in 2008. Apparently the second Narnia movie came out—how is it that that surprised me? Still haven’t gotten around to watching last year’s Oscar nominees, either. On the other hand, have enjoyed the classic noir and Bergman Netflix viewing of the last month.

Going to watch Vicky Cristina Barcelona on DVD before the Oscars, though. Definitely. Looks like Gran Turino and The Reader are definitely above the “watch it” cut off.

That is some heroic movie-avoidance, HB!

It would be heroic if it were intentional. It just snuck up on me, though, so I think we might have to call it simply “monumental.” I’ve gotten this way about sports, too, with the exception of baseball: when I remember to care, I might check up on some stats on the internet. Having no TV and little money makes it easy to avoid each of these things.

At least you have remained true to baseball which is the greatest of all possible sports to be a fan.

@Dwight: I don’t think I disagree with where you’d put Gran Torino in the rental store, I just meant to draw attention to how funny the movie was, something I wasn’t entirely expecting. The film was still plenty weighty.

@hb: I have only one complaint with your movie-watching (which brought you plenty of marvelous cinema and probably a better ratio of quality to dross than my watching did) and that’s that you didn’t see Vicky Cristina Barcelona in the theater. Will you do more E Street Saturdays if I inform you of them in advance?

Also, you’ve placed the cut-off line for recommendations-for-you-to-watch at precisely the right point, I think.

For me, unless an excellent movie is exceptionally beautifully shot, the benefit of seeing it in the theater rather than on a decent television set or computer monitor is relatively minor. The somewhat-poor, mediocre, or decent movie, on the other hand, benefits a great deal from sharing it with a crowd of enthusiastic fellow humans.

I believe almost the precise opposite sentiment has been expressed here by some cranky misanthrope or another, but this is all to say that I find the benefit of the theater to, say, The Dark Knight, is great, because of the crowd and the spectacle, whereas to Vicky Cristina Barcelona, it is minimal.

I saw both in the theater, and thought the enthusiasm of hoi polloi at The Dark Knight was to the benefit of the movie (I could take it or leave it at home); Vicky Cristina Barcelona, on the other hand, was an excellent movie, would still be superb at home, but was not helped much by its more sophisticated audience that laughed condescendingly at its characters’ sincerity.

The primary reason to see movies like Vicky Cristina Barcelona in the theater, to my mind, is to cast the vote of one’s dollars for more Woody Allen films. Purchasing those early tickets does more to get Allen financing than Netflixing his movies on DVD does.

Perhaps it’s my cold, two-sizes-too-small heart, but for me the crowd does not affect my experience of a movie very much or very frequently. I can remember being annoyed by inappropriate laughter or pleased when much of the audience sits through the credits, certainly, but experiences like my recent one with Gran Torino, where I was surprised and somewhat affected by the warmth and enthusiasm of the audience for the film, are something I don’t often have.

Watching films on a tiny screen with inadequate sound, though, is really something of a crime against their creators. The photography and sound of a movie affect us in ways we are not even aware of, particularly with good directors. You’re also, on a very practical level, just missing things: I’d seen Rushmore a dozen times before I watched it on my projector, when I suddenly noticed details—people, words, and so on—that I’d never noticed before. And they added nuance to my emotional experience of the film that wasn’t there before.

So, unless you’re as cool as Michael & Rachel Sullivan or me and have a totally sweet projector setup (which is very inexpensive, my friends), you have a moral obligation to try to see great movies in the theater.

Notice my wholesale assault on any kind of moderation with that last statement, HB; I hope you’re happy.

Nate: Yes, I’m happy. Also, I would just stress a little more the obligation on all of us to support Woody Allen’s movies in the theaters. The man needs to keep making movies. My own failure to do this for any movie save Match Point is one among many of my personal flaws. On that score, yes, I’ll be up for more trips to E Street if you plan ahead.

I’m not sure I was one of those cranky misanthropes, but after hearing Robbie’s seemingly too-democratic defense of seeing movies in public (so seeming, perhaps, because I’m so far to the one extreme), I’ll just say that I find rather otherwise about the crowd’s effects on mediocre movies than he does. Certainly I laughed at moments in Juno, but realizing that others were finding the movie good, and not just manipulative, rather added to my distaste for it. Of course, I have definitely expressed elsewhere my preference not to see even decent movies at all, let alone in the ameliorating atmosphere of a crowd, so keep that weird desire in mind, as well.

The point about supporting filmmakers financially is a good one.

I certainly didn’t mean to suggest watching good movies on a tiny screen with inadequate sound, though. I do not have a projector (and am envious!), though I do have a not-at-all-extravagant-yet-not-tiny LCD television capable of HD, and two computer displays with still denser pixel resolution (though smaller), any of which display greater resolution than is present on a DVD. The film projected in the theater is richer still, of course; though I think usually not greater than reached by Blu-ray (though of course this does require more equipment, and not all releases are available on Blu-ray as yet — Criteron is making the switch though).

A lot depends, also, on viewing distance. Contrary to the exhortations of generations of mothers, many people sit too far from the screen to resolve all of its detail, especially if the screen is high-resolution and not enormous. But watching a DVD on a standard 20-inch computer LCD at typical computer-distance, you should be able to make out as much or more detail than from the couch with the same DVD projected across the room from a standard-def projector.

Of course, I’d rather watch all my movies on Blu-ray from the couch with an HD projector. And if I’m watching Lawrence of Arabia, the bigger the projection the better. All I meant to say that is that quite-good cinematic experiences are very commonly available in homes, or in homes of nearby friends; and that for excellent movies whose cinematography is not especially breath-taking (like Woody Allen movies), the benefit of the theater may not be great.

Though if your equipment sucks and you can’t go to a friend’s house, it’s a different story. And, again, the financial point is certainly worth considering.

Forgot to add: the basis of the “democratic defense” of seeing movies in public reaches its apogee with the viewing of children’s movies in theaters full of young children. I try to make a point of seeing every Pixar movie in the theater, preferably on a Saturday afternoon when lots of parents take their kids. It can grow your heart three sizes.

Nate, I know that at least some audience members affected your experience of, at least, The Musketeer, so careful with the sweeping statements.

… Remember, you just said that I’m cool!

Anyway, the only Woody Allen movie I’ve seen in the theatre was Anything Else, by myself, on a weekday afternoon. I think that’s a great way to see a movie, but I don’t know that I helped the bottom line there too much.

Nate, I know that at least some audience members affected your experience of, at least, The Musketeer, so careful with the sweeping statements.

… Remember, you just said that I’m cool!

Anyway, the only Woody Allen movie I’ve seen in the theatre was Anything Else, by myself, on a weekday afternoon. I think that’s a great way to see a movie, but I don’t know that I helped the bottom line there too much.

Robbie: I appreciate the clarification; we really don’t have much to quibble about. The details of the experience of a movie are important, a fact we don’t seem to disagree about at all.

Michael: I feel bad about the legend of my reaction to The Musketeer; what an insufferable grump I am! The Musketeer really did suck, and it’s very hard for me, in retrospect, to blame you and Mr. Esterheld for cracking jokes during the movie. Suffice it to say that my good movie experiences with you far outweigh the sole marginally negative one.

Going to see Anything Else on a weekday afternoon does sound good, actually. I love being alone in a theater. And you contributed to making off-peak showings slightly more profitable, so I laud your effort.

I also saw Grindhouse on a weekday afternoon in an almost empty theatre—something I do very rarely, by the way! The only other person I remember there was a very fat middle-aged woman sitting not too far away who laughed at all the same places I did. I felt the experience was exactly as it was intended to be.

The other night I watched The Other Bolyn Girl. If ever a movie demanded heckling that was it. I and Mrs Sullivan and Mrs G did our duties, I’m happy to say.

Mr. G, on the other hand, checked out early of that one.

Watching _The Third Man_ at SJC was probably the best movie watching experience I’ve had, public or private. A perfect movie, a perfect audience, just in the right moment to be moved appropriately but not — not over the top. (Not in the way some lectures go, where half of the audience laughs at the outside lecturer’s dumb joke while the other half writhes in fury.) It’s probably the closest I’ve come to the experience of watching a play in the festival of Dionysus—having everyone around me react similarly, powerfully, intelligently, but not forced (like going to a Shakespeare play where people who’ve read it laugh where they know there’s a pun or something, whereas you couldn’t pick it up from the stage). Just perfect. Rare, but extraordinary. (The movie seems now to be written on my heart.)