I take myself to a movie.
I'm not a loser ... most of the time. This is not the first time in my life that I have gone to a movie alone. To be honest, Every time I go to a movie with friends or family, I always see at least one person going solo. It is actually a brilliant concept because no one distracts a solo movie watcher nor distorts the experience.
The only reason I jump on a late afternoon weekday movie ticket is because the movie has its play extended. I thought I had missed my opportunity to see it, but, as it turns out, the movie's popularity resonates with the theater's cash flow.
And it is creepy. For a about fifteen minutes, I am the only person in the theater. Then one person sits a row in front of me but more toward the middle. Eventually, his buddy arrives with popcorn. Shortly thereafter, a single woman sits in my row but about six seats away. There may be a few more people behind us.
Basically, though, the theater is deserted.
We enjoy the previews, settle in for the movie, and think we are about to enjoy a bang-'em-up buddy movie. There are twists, though. Deep, dark twists. When the lights come up, the few of us in the place stand up in stunned silence, glance at each other, and file out of the theater. Seriously. No one is uttering a word.
Oh, the movie is spectacular. It is well-written, well-acted, and well-filmed. It simply gets very dark very suddenly, and it successfully takes us all by surprise.
It is at that moment, near-catatonic as I exit the building, that I am truly glad I went alone to see the film. There are times when words don't work nor would they nor should they. The seat may have been comfortable, but the movie wasn't.
Taking myself to the movie alone is empowering; driving home alone after is like therapy. Five stars - I highly recommend the activity.
