I have two. The first is "The Passion of Joan of Arc." I've screened it a couple of times with friends, but it always felt strange to me. While I wanted to share this incredible picture, I also felt like I wanted to keep Marie Falconetti all to myself. It has an intimacy that almost demands a solitary viewing.

The other is "McCabe and Mrs. Miller." It was screened one in a class on the Western, and everyone hated it, which was infuriating for me. In hindsight, it might have its moments that would be perplexing for most viewers, especially ones used to John Wayne and John Ford. But when I watch that movie alone, it is one of the the saddest, most devastating movies there is. It's the closest I've ever come to crying.

And on an added note, both of these movies I discovered through Roger Ebert's Great Films list. I don't know what my life would be like without that man. Get better RE! I'm expecting to see you at next year's Ebertfest!

Brian Rose

JE: Brian, "Passion of Joan of Arc" is the other central movie in "Zeroville" for that very reason. The novel's central figure becomes instrumental in finding Dreyer's original version (discovered in the janitorial closet of a mental institution in the early 1980s)!

Off the top of my head, Dancer in the Dark and Boogie Nights.

Dancer in the Dark, despite what people say about it, hits me hard. Part of it may be that I see a tiny bit of my mother in Selma, but other than that, there are just so many moments that are almost "throwaway moments" but when you notice them, they break your heart. It's a beating to watch, but a beating I'm willing to endure. Just not with anyone else around.

Boogie Nights is a personal one because it marked a turning point in my life. Because of -- but also beyond -- that, I hold the film in such high regard that I kind of feel that not enough people will "get it" like I do. I still haven't allowed my girlfriend to watch it with me -- or to watch it at all, for that matter.

I've heard a lot of people talk about Secretary that way. Don't care for the film myself, but that seems to be a movie people need to watch alone.

Beautiful piece, Jim. You brought up so many issues that I've been pondering lately, especially about the way that DVDs are changing/have changed cinema: commentary tracks, deleted scenes, behind the scenes featurettes - so much deconstruction and demystification is made possible by the DVD format. Although a sort of magical "aura" might be lost as a result of the introduction of DVDs, I feel that they have enhanced cinematic literacy IMMENSELY.

Anyway, here are some of my only-in-private films:

Anything by Tarkovsky
Anything by Bresson
Days of Heaven
Magnolia
Inland Empire
Sans Soleil

. . . and there are others. These are just examples that really jump out to me. I HATE watching those films with other people. I think one huge factor is that I worry too much about if my companion(s) is enjoying him/herself.

Once again, great post. That book sounds fascinating.

Two come to mind:

1. Ikiru (Kurosawa)
That song had such an emotional impact on me that I immediately ordered a copy of the Criterion after watching it.

2. Three Colors: Blue
Because, like you said, some people don't "get it." And Juliette Binoche is amazing.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. ... Going to a theater, these days, is an almost unbearable experience ... unless I'm able to be in NYC at the Angelika, or Philly at The Ritz, or something - where the crowd shuts the heck up and isn't munching throughout. ... Even if I go to the "old people's matinees" - that's almost worse. Since barely anyone is there, the four older couple in there think that gives them carte blanche to yap throughout.

I like to get immersed into the movie - so that I let it surround me, so to speak. All the distractions take me out of the movie.

At home, now with my 42-inch plasma, it's a holy experience. I can just sit there mesmerized.

About halfway through reading the post, I thought of a classic film series that my college did in the mid-nineties. Two of the ones I saw in the series got heckled: West Side Story and, yes, Vertigo.

I was a bit heart broken about Vertigo since it's near and dear to me, but I was downright pissed about West Side Story. It was my first time seeing it and I couldn't hear some of the dialogue for the laughing.

As for films that remain a private viewing for me, I always figured that I'd never watch The Adventures of Robin Hood in a crowded theater. As much as every single element of that film WORKS, I'd imagine that some audiences would find the whole thing ridiculous. I'd love to see it on a big screen, but I don't know if I want to risk being in that audience.

The Fountain was it for me. I thought it was beautiful and hit me in a big way so i was heartbroken to be watching it with my friends at a party and to hear laughs, giggles, and guffaws

Ok, so I read this topic earlier today and knew immediately that I would be coming back later. I was sure I would be through with "Scenes From a Marriage" today (the T.V. series) and knew I was going to bring it up here. Since it was so successful, maybe many people saw it with friends and family. And that's fine, but I'm not doing it. Those close ups just becoming so unsettling, I'm amazed Bergman kept it going all throughout. Plus the power of the story and it not once getting tedious or uninteresting, however painful it sometimes got. I must add too how cool it is to see something that long running, and it be based so heavily on the dialogue.

And I just want to add that this is one of the best topics I've read here in the few months of my intent reading. Thank you.

I once saw Belle De Jour in a public setting. That was an awkward viewing to say the least.

"Northfork," by the Polish brothers. I saw it in a nearly empty theater in LA on a Thursday night, the last showing of the last week of its very brief run. It emotionally destroyed me, in a good way. I recommended it to a number of people, all of whom were baffled and irritated by it. I stopped recommending it but have watched it several times since. It's my private treasure.

Three Women -- Altman said it came from a dream, and boy, does it feel that way. The elements combine to create a weird dreamlike state, at once compelling and strange. I recall when it first came out; the San Francisco Examiner described it as the story of two women who work at a nursing home in southern California. When I've screened it for people, I get head-scratching responses. So I watch it late at night when no one's around and giggle at Shelley Duvall's skirt hanging out of her Pinto.

I agree about McCabe. It's so somber and lonesome. Solitude seems somehow appropriate.

Other movies that come to mind are Orson Welles's F for Fake [takes me back to Ibiza where I lived briefly] and Warhol's Flesh [because Joe at 18 is just too beautiful to share with anyone].

I'm with Alonzo- watching The Fountain with other people was a heartbreaking experience. I saw it in theaters and at the end I was an emotional wreck, ready to walk to the parking lot to just sob, and here's these idiots in front of me laughing about how Hugh Jackman turned into a plant. Same thing with Brokeback Mountain. Here's a sold out audience of weeping people and the two rows of teenagers had to ruin the first hour by bein obnoxious.

It's funny, I prefer watching most dramas by myself whereas I prefer comedies with big audiences. IF I'm going to watch something like There Will Be Blood, I want to absorb the experience by myself, without having people around me to distract me. Granted, I saw TWBB with several friends, but for the most part, I tend to go alone.

Another interesting thing are the movies you don't think you can watch with other people and then do. I saw Shortbus by myself and thought I could never watch it with anyone due to the sex content and the emotional chord it struck with me, but I've now shown it to at least five groups of people and had moving and hilarious conversations with them about the film. When you share movies with people, sometimes it's good to see that they are willing to expand their tastes and share back.

One movie I absolutely will not watch with anyone else, ever, is The Green Mile. I'm not a spiritual person by any means, but something in that film resonates with me,and makes me want to get out and love life.
To watch it with anyone else would ruin the personal experience I feel I have when I watch the film. I cry every damn time.

On a different but similar note: some movies can be seen from multiple standpoints. After seeing Psycho a couple of times (each with one other person whom I trusted), I took the movie with me when going home for Christmas two years ago. I had already liked Psycho very much, but seeing it with about ten other people (most of whom had never seen it) was a revelation. Just watching it work on them. Watching them guess and get fooled, and wonder at it. I'm not sure they all liked it as much as me, but it was great to see them reacting to it. Hitchcocks ability to manipulate an audience became so much more palpable to me this way. Seeing it that way first might have been really disruptive, but sometimes it's fascinating to see something in a crowd after having seen it by yourself a few times.

I go to the movies alone, and it's not just because nobody likes me. It's a personal experience, and I see absolutely no sense in being accompanied by anyone. It's as uncomfortable for me as having someone else trying to take a peek at a book I'm reading.

I also try to sit as close to the screen as possible and thereby avoid having any heads in my field of vision. Sometimes this might prove problematic - we have assigned seats here in Turkey, and my refusal to adhere to that preposterous rule creates a bit of a hornets' nest when the theatre is packed. Which is also why I try to catch matinees whenever I can.

As such, if I were to make a list of films I would rather watch alone, and not share with anyone else, it would have to be every single film that I'd ever watched. So the films I would rather watch with other people are the exceptions here, not the other way round.

There are a few I love watching with my parents - the most recent addition was The Lives of Others. As much as I enjoy Withnail and I alone, I have an even better time when I watch it with my good friend Steve. There are others, no doubt, but not too many.

PS. Oh, I love watching cartoons with my darling cat Shmi, who can't get enough of them for some reason. Except for Ratatouille, which she hated.

When I saw El Topo with a crowd, people laughed over-enthusiastically when the little woman told El Topo that her people were deformed from continuous incest. Once they settled down, I very clearly told them to grow up.

And what is with people saying they don't "get" things? There isn't any kind of deeply hidden metaphor at work, man; it's just a simple story being told in a simple way. Do you really not "get" something, or do you just have a funny way of saying you don't like it? But maybe I say that because my parents used to take me to adult movies as a kid, and I would have a hard time keeping up with the plot and the characters, so I just learned to appreciate other aspects of the movies. That's a theory, anyway.

Otherwise, I know what you mean in several ways. Too many to expound on.

I've found recently that I've most responded to films in a theater or on DVD most when I'm alone. That's not true for all of them, some are perfectly suited to see in groups, with crowds ("low brow" fair like Jackass 1 and 2, and Harold and Kumar 2, I wouldn't want to see in any other context), but for most movies, especially ones I really like, I find I enjoy myself more seeing them alone.

It's funny McCabe and Mrs. Miller has been mentioned twice already, because that's one that I thought of immediately too. The first time I saw it, only about a year or so ago, was in a theater, and I did something I haven't done since maybe as a small, small kid, and that's stay in the theater to see it again. I loved it. I was alone, and there was something about that confined, isolated experience, that I wanted to continue it.

A few months later, I got it on DVD to see again, and this time someone joined me, and it didn't work aswell. The movie was the same, but I didn't enjoy it as much. I'll have to see it again to be sure, but I think if I watch it alone again it'll come back to me as strong as it did the first two times.

The most recent movie I think I didn't "get" until seeing it alone was Snow Angels. I'm a big fan of Green's, and the first two times I saw it, I thought it was good, but I didn't feel it like I had his other films. Then I saw it last week, alone, and I was awe for the first time seeing it. The movie hadn't changed, but the situation had. I wasn't going in worrying about the other person with me, I didn't have to worry what they thought of the movie, or anything else.

I do think there's kind of list of movies that don't work for me unless I'm alone, and as much as I want to share them, I'd never want to try and "experience" them with other people. It's often more emotional stuff like au hasard Balthazar, or Late Spring, and one that seems unlikely INLAND EMPIRE. I saw it the first time in a packed house, with Lynch introducing it, and the end was moving, but not nearly as much as the second time, alone. IE's a different kind of beast, granted, but with all of Lynch's films espcially, seeing them alone sort of brings out the sincerity in them for me.

A lot of my favorite films are ones I discovered watching them alone (Taxi Driver, Vertigo, etc.).

But to widen the scope a little, some films--they may even be the same films--work when shared with just one other person. Some movies are hard to do that way--just try getting somebody who isn't totally into it to watch The Werckmeister Harmonies. But it's a valuable process. Even if it can be terrifying, to take something and say, "This spoke to me, this moved me, do you feel the way I feel?"

In other words, I think there is room for a more intimate social experience. Films have that over books, in that they can be easily and simultaneously shared.

I'd also like to point out, to be contrarian, that I disagree with the end of the last quote. I don't think moviegoing as a mass social event will ever go away. For every film which almost has to be seen alone, there are films which almost have to be seen with an audience. Snakes on a Plane. Grindhouse (which, when I watch it alone, ends up being dissected as "art" instead of thrilled to). Speed Racer, which I saw last week with an audience so raucous you couldn't hear the plot points over their laughter. I doubt I would have enjoyed it nearly as much sitting by myself, or even with a small group of friends.
(An older example: Peking Opera Blues. I saw it once with a theater full of students, and once with a small group of friends in an apartment. Both times highly enjoyable. I will probably watch it a third time with my family. I will never, ever watch it alone. It just wouldn't work.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though some movies may make the deepest connection, straight to your heart and soul, that doesn't mean the connections between friends or between all those other people in the dark are without value.

I was distracted by some jerk who had problems with the way Grace Kelly dressed in Rear Window. This was at the theatrical revival of that film a few years back.

A nominee for future re-evaluation: William Friedkin's Bug, when seen separated from the more traditional horror movie expectations created by the advertising.

Erickson:
Movies are supposed to be watched with other people, aren't they?

Good god, no. Well, there are some people who can probably be trusted. But the audience full of loquacious retirees with whom I saw No Country for Old Men should be boiled in lead. All of them.

Emerson:
I don't always feel that I need to watch a movie in a single sitting, either. Is that bad of me?

I don't think so. But then, the movie I'm watching in pieces right now is Satantango, which pretty much demands it.

Do you have movies you think are too personal to be seen with an audience?

There are a few movies I've only ever seen with the one or two people I'm attempting to get to fall head over heels in love with the movie the way I am. Hotaru no Haka. Closetland. Begotten. A few others like that. Movies I think are highly enjoyable, but that aren't for everyone (or, in the case of Begotten, anyone, really).

Oddly, I don't sequester myself for movies that make me cry buckets. I expose as many people to Julian Schnabel movies as I can, in whatever number...

Great topic! I noticed McCabe & Mrs. Miller already mentioned which would have been my first choice. But, here's two that nobody's mentioned: Eraserhead and Grave of the Fireflies. Even though Eraserhead made its reputation on the midnight movie circuit it really is hard to imagine how such a personal film could be enjoyed as a shared experience with a large crowd. And Grave of the Fireflies, while animated, is just so devastatingly sad I've still only watched my DVD of it once and after watching it I couldn't even raise my voice to my kids for 2 or 3 weeks.

I should add that my comment above did not specifically address Jim's point about a movie being so "personal" that you couldn't share it with the audience. ... I was speaking more generally about the negative experience of theaters these days, and how it ruins ANY movie that you want to get immersed in.

But to the point, I agree as well that there are some personal films that others don't always "get" - which then makes it difficult to watch in large groups. Or, similarly, that watching it in a group takes away from the effect because you are not allowing yourself to have the same experience. So, basically, I'm just saying "yeah, ditto - great post"

But I had to share this experience, because it's a great horror story of theater-going. ... We go to see Schindler's List. Completely packed theater, only 4 seats left in the whole place. My wife and I sit in 2 of the 4. Movie's about to start, and who comes in takes the last 2 seats?? Another couple WITH A BABY!! I SH*T YOU NOT. Some couple actually thought it would be a good idea to take a baby to a 3-hour movie about the Holocaust. WTF?!? This kid proceeded to claw at my leg, and whine, for the first hour and change until FINALLY the father took the kid out by the back door and stood there for the rest.

I'm still amazed to this day.

"...it's like having people in the most private recesses of your consciousness making fun of your dreams as you're dreaming them."

Amen.

In all honesty, I've never been able to appreciate the point of view that insists movies are meant to be a communal experience. I've been a cinema goer for as long as I can remember and no movie experience has ever been heightened or enhanced in any way by being surrounded by others, be it friends or strangers.

I have always had an aversion towards any aspect of the filmgoing experience, whether external or otherwise, that breaks the spell and reminds you that you're watching a movie. For this reason I strongly dislike opening titles; I think one should be able to dive in from the first shot. A most perfect example would be "Apocalypse Now".

One might say that comedies are naturally suited towards a group reception but again, I am of another mind. Seeing a good comedy on your own is a test of the filmmaker that what's making you laugh is a genuine reaction stemming from the quality of the material and not the reactions of a surrounding audience providing cues.

As a rabid film lover, I can honestly proclaim that with today's home-viewing technology, I would honestly not mind leaving the cinema behind for good. To some extent, I already have. Ten years ago, I saw an average of two movies a week in a theater. Nowadays, it's more like two a year. My home theater system comes up a winner in every respect. As far as I'm concerned, this is the way films were meant to be seen, more to the point, the way I was meant to see them.

One other thing regarding the subject of film-based distractions. As alluded to above, I view it as a failure of sorts when a film succumbs to self-consciousness. There may be a rare instance when this may be effective, though I can't think of an example just now, but for the most part it is an impediment. As much as I love him, Bergman's "Passion of Anna" comes to mind, with it's inneffective and completely unnecessary scenes of the actors commenting on their characters. Bergman may have been going for something new here, but it's not what grabs my interest.

The phrase "casting a spell" may be a trite one, but it's also accurate. It sums up that which great movies do best and should strive for.

As for a list of films too personal to share, I will salute Ali Arikan (posted above) who stated it perfectly:

"...if I were to make a list of films I would rather watch alone, and not share with anyone else, it would have to be every single film that I'd ever watched."

When it comes to virtually any of my favourite films, the word "personal" is redundant.

I can't imagine watching Nicholas Ray's THEY LIVE BY NIGHT with an audience. That kind of sheer unsentimental tenderness and haunting sadness just isn't something you see in movies much anymore; it's just daring a modern audience to mock it.

The first film I thought of that fits that bill for me is Mike Leigh's NAKED. It's one of my ten favorite films of all time and I can't think of a single person I know to recommend it to. I've come very close to sitting my wife down to watch it but I think she'd want nothing more than to get away from those characters as quickly as possible. I find it particularly ironic that I can't find anyone who would like it because that film is all about personal connections and intimacy. And here I am - much like Naked's protagonist, Johnny - unable to find someone to share it with.

Thank you, Jim, for making me realize that it's OK to keep some films to myself.

An extraordinary post. Sometimes it is nice to be reminded that we humans are, at least, together in being alone.
The movie that comes most immediately to mind is The Rapture, a film whose supposed defects are, to me, its most attractive features.
Also, I don't like watching David Lynch with others. I recognize that his films are often intellectually proposterous, and every time I watch an interview with him I kind of wince, but in his movies he seems to be taking direct transcriptions of my subjective impressions of the world around me. He has an undeniable, almost primitive, power, that feels silly even to discuss with others.

Jim:

Wonderful post! For years I have gone to see films by myself, and my friends often fail to understand why. I had three similar experiences with No Country for Old Men in the theater. The first two times I went with my roommate, and those two times were during the matinee with the 'old folks'. However, those old folks can sure talk through a movie. Especially one gentleman who decided to narrate the entire film to his wife. When Chigurh opens the vent with a dime, the elderly man proceeded to yell out 'yup, you can do anything with a dime.' Ugh. The third time I went and saw the film was by myself on its final week in Portland. I drove up from Salem for the afternoon show, and I was the only person in the theater. It was at that point that some of the films bigger themes became more clear for me.

So...No Country is definitely one of those movies for me. I have since tried to watch it twice on DVD with friends who haven't seen it, and it has never been the same as that moment where the Coens and I got to spend some time together in downtown Portland.

I happen to feel a connection to a filmmaker as well. I feel that I cannot watch any Michael Mann film with anyone else. They exist solely for me and me alone. For me, there is something so exhilarating and fulfilling when I go see a Mann picture that I cannot share in that with anyone else because I know they won't understand my unabashed love for his films. Everything about his films makes me appreciate life more and more and every image and piece of music, every bit of over glossy and beautiful piece of cinematography finds its way inside of me and makes me glad to be alive, watching his films. I even defended Miami Vice vehemently to my friends, and they just didn't get it (neither did a lot of critics), and I still hold that its one of the best films of 2006. Seeing a Mann picture in the theater is like my once every two years church service. I eagerly and voluntarily submit myself to whatever is before me, waiting for that one moment to pop off screen (Mann's sermon) that'll make me walk out of the theater seeing film, and life, through a different lens. Many don't see that deep into Mann's films, but I do.

Matt: great call on Northfork. When I worked at a video store that stayed on my Employee Picks section for about six months. I love the Polish bros.

Two other films that are so personal to me that I fear I cannot share the experience with anyone else (and two films that also share something with each other):

Interiors
Cries and Whispers

Fanny & Alexander is my private movie. I've tried showing it to a few other people, and it just makes me die inside that they can't love it as much as I do. Though I loaned it to a friend's fiance, and she came back saying "It was good, and then I went to working thinking about it, and realized it was great."

I recently saw a revival screening of "Last Year at Marienbad" at the Music Box in Chicago. Now, there is a certain cultural filter that goes along with late night screenings of French avante garde classics, so there was of fortunate absence of philistine naysaying. Still, I can't imagine attending that film for the first time with other people. Marienbad is the kind of film that wills you into confusion and forces you afterwards to piece together all of its subjective layers of reality (that is, if you have the patience to do so). Had I not wandered the streets of Chicago afterwards to ponder on what I had witnessed, the film would have become a diminished mass of confusion rather than the enriching experience it turned out to be.

Beautiful, beautiful piece Jim! Thanks so much for sharing that passage from "Zeroville." Now I want to read the book.

I've never understood why so many people think that the only way to really experience a film is in a theater with a large crowd as if you're watching a sporting event. I assumed it was because I've always been a bit of an outsider so I'm not particularly comfortable in crowds and I've rarely felt any kind of kinship with strangers in a dark movie theater. I used to visit a lot of revival houses since I obviously love older films but it became a chore instead of something I looked forward to. A lot of people seem to approach any film made pre-80 as if they're watching an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000, which is a TV show I personally never cared for. I always wished the hosts would just shut up and let viewers watch the movies they played. I can write my own bad jokes if needed.

One of the worst movie watching experiences I ever had was when I saw Harold and Maude in a theater. Yes, the movie has lots of funny bits but the audience couldn't stop roaring at every scene. It was as if they were all slapping each other on the back and saying, "Do you get it? It's supposed to be funny!" Well, um yeah. Of course we all know the movie is very funny at times but it's not a Jerry Lewis comedy.

David Cronenberg recently said the following in an interview exchange that you might find interesting. I know I did.

Do you watch a lot of films on DVD?
Cronenberg: Most of my film watching is on DVD. I very rarely go to the cinema.

Is that a preference?
Cronenberg: Yes, it is. At this point in my life, I'm not so interested in the social aspects of movie watching, other than the ones that I have at home, which I wind up watching with my wife or with my children. So that's enough socializing. I don't really need to go to a mall and hang out and do all that stuff that goes along with a lot of film watching these days.

Q: I think of "Videodrome," and people watching media in more isolated situations. Do you think that's happening to cinema because of DVD?
Cronenberg: It's obvious that there are some movies that still get a huge turnout. But I do think that there's a lot of isolation going on. To me it's more like reading a book. I like to be able to stop it and start it the way you would stop reading a book, especially if people insist on making two-hour-and-40-minute movies. You don't sit and read "War and Peace" all the way through in one sitting.

The complete interview with David Cronenberg can be found here.

Alex,

You are not alone in your love for NAKED.

I think you'll find it satisfying to know that David Thewlis won the Best Actor Prize and Mike Leigh won the Best Director Prize for it at the 1993 Cannes Film Festival.

Joel & Ethan Coen's "The Man Who Wasn't There" is staggeringly powerful when watched alone.

The mannequins in the foreground with the tiny silhouettes of Billy Bob Thornton and James Gandolfini struggling deep and high in the center of the background, the profoundly eerie Midnight visit from Gandolfini's wife on Billy Bob Thornton's front doorstep wearing the veil, not blinking once, talking madly about conspiracy and alien abductions, the way Billy Bob Thornton's eyes scrutinize the haircuts of the men watching him at the very last scene in the film...

When I saw NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MAN - I wish it had been no cinema for old man. An old guy sitting next to me made it his duty to give his wife a running commentary through the entire duration of the film.

It is impossible to watch "Secret Honor" with anybody else in the room. It's 90 minutes of Philip Baker Hall talking to himself.. I can feel other people getting antsy, tapping their feet, watching the clock. I can't sink into this manic character at all when there are other people around.

The other movie that comes to mind is "Talk Radio". I can't really explain what the movie does to bring me so close to tears every time I see it. It's hard to watch it with other people because I know that they're not getting the same thing out of it. It distracts and irritates me.

P.S. Things like this are exactly the reason I love reading what you write.

Two films immediately came to my mind: "Atonement" and "Schindler's List." I saw "Atonement" in a half-full theatre when it came out and left fairly unimpressed (didn't hate it, but was far some loving it). A few months passed and I came upon the film on dvd for a very good price, so I bought it. Amazingly, watching it alone I came away with an entirely different experience, feeling deeply moved through much of the film. It wasn't that I understood the themes any more than I did the first time, I just was far more open to them.

"Schindler's List" is a film which makes me weep uncontrollably when I watch it alone, and everybody I have spoken with has the same response. When I watched it with my girlfriend, though, the film had only a superficial impact on me. I didn't cry, and never really felt particularly emotional about it. Neither did she. Perhaps it's because I was "watching it through her eyes," or perhaps I just can't let my emotions go when I'm with others. Whatever it is, I won't watch "Schindler's List" with anybody but myself ever again.

As has been suggested, I prefer to see just about any movie alone; except for some comedies, I don't see much point in watching a film with other people. It's most always a personal experience.

And, I'll add my mention of McCabe & Mrs. Miller, my favorite, even though I first saw it in a college theater, and wasn't distracted by the audience. It has since become too personal for me to want to risk someone else intruding on the dream-state it evokes. Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid could be another like this - I might wonder if others are appreciating the same wash of remorse that takes hold of me, or, if their patience will allow them to be absorbed by the time-trip of Barry Lyndon.

And, both audiences with which I saw No Country for Old Men hated, HATED the ending, despite I think being fascinated by the rest of it, so there's the most recent entry to the list.

Jim,

Great topic as usual. Some movies that fit the "personal only" category for me...

The Rapture (kudos to a previous poster for mentioning this)

Swimming with Sharks

Lake of Fire (which, of course, I have only seen in a public setting, but it was a sparsely populated one, and I will re-watch this on DVD the day it finally arrives)

Eyes Wide Shut

Wow Jim, great article. If there is one movie I have stopped screening for my friends, its my favourite movie of all time, Fellini's Nights of Cabiria.

I've showed some of my friends this sublime film, most of them either fall asleep or don't understand the motivation of the characters. They ask questions during the movie, frustrating me beyond belief. By the time the end comes around, that simple beautiful nod to the camera, tears running her mascara, in a defiant look of hope and uncertainty, my friends either zone out or don't care.

This is a movie I will always hold close to my heart. I feel....I guess violated is the best word, when people dismiss it so quickly. I can't understand how something that moves me to tears can bore someone else to tears.

I think there are quite a few movies that work better communally. "Jaws" was a blast with a packed house and "Airplane" probably wouldn't have worked at all alone. But since I spend a lot more time searching out the quiet and, yes, even slow I do prefer home for those. Even though "The Assassination of Jesse James..." had a fairly small and appreciative crowd (no inappropriate laughter) there was still a whole lot of coughing and general fidgeting during some of the slower times.

I also have to admit that I sometimes don't share movies with my best friend, whose taste is usually quite similar to mine, if I am really psyched about a film and I'm not quite sure about her. Not that she will disturb me or blame me, but somehow I am distracted by whether she is enjoying a movie that I picked. (Recently I almost tried to talk her out of going to "I'm Not There" with me because I'm a Dylan fanatic while she thinks "He wrote some good songs that other people did better". Shockingly she really liked it!)

And Kimberly's story about "Harold and Maude" hit home. I've mentioned "Fargo" before as a very funny movie that I did not consider to be a comedy, black or otherwise. I just couldn't handle the non-stop guffaws of people who saw only the absurdity and not the reality of it. And on the other hand I watched "Raising Arizona" in a half full but nearly silent theater. Go figure. Based on that track record, I decided if I was going to see "No Country" in a theater it was going to be out of town. Good choice.

So I guess the bottom line is: No movie is too personal for me to share with the right audience. I have, occasionally, been in a packed house in which I felt totally alone while watching and in absolute synch with a thousand people while filing out and that's a pretty great experience. It's also too rare to try to orchestrate.

I agree with the poster who mentioned "Boogie Nights." I hold that film in extremely high regard (I still consider it PT Anderson's best), and while others seem to like it and respond to it, they usually think my adoration for it is just too enthusiastic. Part of it is the fact it's about porn, a lurid private entertainment- in a way, the film is wrapped in a socially imposed brown paper bag. People mistake it for its subject; talking about it in public is a little like talking about pornography openly. It's a great film though and one no one should be ashamed of admiring.

*

Recently, I showed a group of friends "Picnic at Hanging Rock" and they seemed by turns, bored, incredulous and perplexed. Some of the scenes intended to be disturbing or horrific they responded to with laughter. It's one of my favorite films and one I've always privately cherished, but the group dynamic just killed it. The suspension of disbelief that was so easy for me to achieve alone seemed to fizzle with a pack of slightly drunk friends, especially during some of the more overwrought scenes on the rock itself. Public scrutiny of my favorite films is sometimes just too much to bear.

I hold Ozu so dear to my heart that I feel almost overly protective towards his films. I'm 27 and it has been about 3 years since I saw my first Ozu film and for me it was like experiencing movies for the first time again. In many ways I want to share his films with others, but in another way, I'm fully satisfied with just watching them alone in my room.

I just moved into a new house with my friends, and I had to make sure I had space in my room for a tv and DVD player so I could watch my films without any talk back or interruptions from anybody. I would say films by Ozu are the perfect ones to watch on your own without the distractions of other people.

I went to film school so I have had innumerable bad experiences. All film students these days think that the Matrix is high art. Here they are:

McCabe and Mrs. Miller
Aguirre
The Long Kiss Goodnight
Sans Soleil
Annie Hall
Repulsion
Every Stan Brakhage film was bashed
400 Blows
Killing of a Chinese Bookie
The Conversation
Straw Dogs
Au Hazard Balthazar
Burnt by the Sun
Man With a Movie Camera

The worst ever though was a screening of Chinatown. In an after screening discussion i made the comment that when Gittes was slapping Evelyn it was the film's way of criticizing the typical noir hero. It caused an eruption of protest in the classroom because I clearly admired the film and many in the class viewed my enthusiasm as me supporting the abuse of women. After the class I was asked by the teacher to drop the class. I'm sure that Mary Ann Doane would lose her mind if she were to see how feminist film analysis has been contorted and misinterpreted by the younger generations that honestly believe Milla Jovovich films are stellar examples of feminism.

Also, Jim, have you ever seen a movie called "The Emperor's Naked Army Marches On"? If not, look it up. You may not love it, but it will definitely fascinate you.

One word - Notorious

I truly love Billy Wilder's "Sunset Boulevard." I love it so much that I would never, ever want to see it with anything resembling your average movie-going audience today.

Gloria Swanson's performance as Norma Desmond is daringly over-the-top and operatic. Her madness at the end of the film (signified with BIG silent screen acting gestures - the bulging, empty eyes; the off-kilter head; the zombie-like movements) is just so sad, powerful, and completely appropriate for this woman who seems to be trapped in a dream. Whenever I watch it, I'm always amazed at the commitment Swanson gives to the role.

I shudder to think how an audience of teenagers would react to her larger-than-life performance. No doubt, they would snicker and write her off as a "crazy psycho", much in the same manner that Glenn Close's character in "Fatal Attraction" was viewed.

Other personal favorites that I must watch alone to preserve their effect:

Alfred Hitchcock's "Rebecca"
Carol Reed's "The Third Man"
Michael Powell's "Black Narcissus"
Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining"

The Great Dictator is what comes to mind for me. Chaplin's final speech makes me weep when I watch it alone. Whenever I have tried to watch it with other people, I was very self-conscious of how they were witnessing that moment, whether they would weep or be moved, whether they would be able to understand that it moves me. So, now I keep it to myself.
However, for the last several years I have been of the opinion that all great movies should be watched alone on DVD, so the viewer can take the time to pause and think about what one is seeing rather than having to process everything once the film is over. We pause to think while reading, so we should while watching, just as you say. Very insightful post, Mr. Emerson.

One of my film professors tells his students repeatedly that one of the lessons he learned in college is "always watch a film with an audience," to see other people's reactions. (He sometimes likes to point out reactions he noticed after he screens a clip.) I’ve tried to understand that, but I’ve never been able to accept that “always.” First off, I’ll say that I don’t think he literally means that he refuses to watch any film alone, but that it’s always a better experience with an audience.

I can agree that it’s sometimes a better experience with an audience. At the end of last semester’s class we watched “The Ice Storm” in its entirety (my first time), and I noticed how much the audience was laughing at a film I probably would have seen as more of a drama if I saw it alone. But it wasn’t because they weren’t taking it seriously, it was because there are a lot of moments in “The Ice Storm” that are genuinely funny. They were being a good audience–for the most part. I admit there was some back-row commentary during one of the kids’ sexual adventures.

Even so, sometimes I want to forget how everyone else will react to the film and just let my own reactions come out. I watched “A Night to Remember” on DVD recently and the film had kept working on me until about three-forths of the way through I started crying. And I cried softly for about ten minutes. I don’t think it was just the particular moment that made me cry (although I do remember which it was), but also everything that came before it, and after. It’s so well-structured. But when you watch with an audience, you have the danger that someone’s going to focus on the film’s content and not form, and it would really spoil it for me to have someone making references to the 1997 version of “Titanic” while I was watching “A Night to Remember.”

Thank you, thank you, Jim. I feel this way a great deal of the time, but have always felt somewhat crazy about how much others' opinions of my films shook me, and how unpleasant watching a favourite film could be with someone who wasn't enjoying it the same way I was.

When I was seventeen, my then-girlfriend and I had a movie day; she brought "Rocky Horror" and I brought "Dr. Strangelove", which was and is my favourite comedy; neither of us had seen the other. "Rocky Horror" is the absolute opposite type of movie, one that needs to be seen with someone already passionately enthusiastic about it, which she certainly was. It worked. Then we watched "Strangelove," and I realized that she wasn't enjoying any of it. Every moment that made me laugh made me feel embarrassed, and I started to view the movie through her eyes. (I didn't remember that this section was so slow. The first half hour is mostly setup. I guess if you don't see the nuances in the performance it doesn't seem like very much.) At one point she left to go to the bathroom, and told me not to bother pausing it. I wondered if I should just skip to the last scene while she was away and tell her that it had finished, but I soldiered on. After the film ended, without her laughing once, we turned off the movie and a commercial came on TV where a person fell into a giant glass of Fresca (or something similar) and she laughed. My stomach was churning and I felt like I needed to get away. She later said that she didn't enjoy the movie because she was incapable of finding war funny, which was difficult for me to handle: how else can you accept something so uniformly horrible, if you don't laugh about it?

On the other hand, sometimes watching a movie with an audience, especially a cynical one, can be an eye-opener in a positive way. I had seen "Written on the Wind" and "All that Heaven Allows" and more or less viewed them as enjoyable straight melodrama, and felt that I was missing some of the irony; it wasn't until I watched "Imitation of Life" in film class, with the entire room guffawing at virtually every line and look, that I understood how well Sirk works as comedy, which I think he had intended. It reminds me of a line in "Gods and Monsters," when everyone at the bar was mocking "Bride of Frankenstein" and Brendan Frasier defended it, before finding out from Ian McKellan's James Whale that, yes, it was supposed to be funny, which Brendan Frasier himself was too busy trying to defend the film to notice. Sometimes you need to be with a less reverent crowd to get the joke. (The same class also groaned, texted, and slept through "The Seventh Seal," though, so my experiences weren't wholly positive.)

Thanks so much for this post. I often find even films that I find merely entertaining almost intolerable to watch in a crowded theater, either because people claim over and over again that they "don't get it" as they leave the theater, or because, for whatever reason, this generation of movie goers simply treats the theater like it's their living room and won't shut up or NOT check their phones (what did the world ever do without cell phones?!?!?!?) through the whole thing.

That being said, I have several movies that I refuse to watch with people, despite recommending them. Fellini's NIGHTS OF CABIRIA is one of my all-time favorites, and Massina's performance is heartbreaking and hilarious all at once. Other movies that I have to watch by myself are Romero's DAWN OF THE DEAD, Argento's SUSPIRIA, and Scorsese's RAGING BULL. Those three movies are so brutally devastating and emotional that trying to watch them with anyone else is just excruciating for me.

I've never tried watching MCCABE AND MRS. MILLER, nor SECRET HONOR with anyone else, but I think it's because it never even crossed my mind that other people (aside from the random folks online, or whom I don't know) might possibly like those movies as much as I do.

I see someone listed "Eyes Wide Shut" which is what I wanted to touch on. I was completely engrossed by that movie. When you first witness the goings-on at the mansion orgy, with the music and the costumes, I felt like I was just completely out of my body. I don't think it would have been that way if I wasn't experiencing it by myself. I imagine the dream-like atmosphere would lose a lot of its effect on me if I wasn't alone.

I'd have to add Gus Van Sant's trilogy of "Gerry," "Elephant," and "Last Days"... and Sean Penn's "The Crossing Guard."

These films are about mortality, and what you expect to happen (and how you deal with the loss of life) when you're pretty sure of the outcome going in.

Of course, I've come to see so many movies in so many theatres that I know the interiors very well--it's sort of become LIKE seeing them at home, in terms of focus... to me, the theatre IS the focusing tool. If I'm at home, I'm way too distracted by my computer or the phone or my cats.

I had this experience at the museum last week, though. The DMA has a massive exhibit on J.M.W. Turner, the famous English painter. I've seen the exhibit twice; the first time was with a friend on a Thursday night ("jazz night") and frankly I just didn't find it very interesting. Oh, look, another room full of paintings of ships on water.

This second time was the second-to-last weekend of its exhibition and it was PACKED. I was in with my mom and brother, two avid museum-goers, and despite seeing the exact same exhibit I was absolutely enthralled. I had to read every placard, examine every painting up close, really take my time with it and make comments and make a play at amateur art analysis. Completely different experience, and I couldn't tell you why.

This is a great article, Mr. Emerson. For me, those experiences came as a high school student fascinated by film growing up in Northern Idaho.

I'd read about these movies that came out five, 10, 20 years ago (usually by reading about them in Ebert's Yearbooks), and would check out the only copy at the local video store. These movies were twisted, unique and often brilliant. What's more, I knew for a fact that nobody in my high school had seen them. These were my little secrets, and I certainly wasn't going to share them with the rest of the crowd.

Since then, these movies have taken on a mythic status for me. Sure, I've now met people who have seen these movies. But they never saw them the way I saw them. They may be able to appreciate "Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer", "Koyaanisqatsi", "The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover" and "All That Jazz". But unless they were seventeen years old, sitting in a tidy middle-class living room in a rural Northwestern town, they can never understand what those films mean to me.

And now I think about the movies that are currently tripping the mind of the seventeen-year-old that has no doubt replaced me. I think about how I can never have the experience that they would be having with "Shortbus", "Russian Ark", "The Saddest Music In The World" and "Requiem For A Dream". And that makes me smile...

Fist time caller, long time listener.
Great post and until recently I would totally agree. But lately I have found a renewed admiration for seeing movies with an audience. I saw NCFOM when it first came out and it was so packed I got one of the last few seats left, in the front row. There was a real air of excitement and it felt like an 'event'. The audience was totally onside and laughed at the black humour and reacted with oohs and winces during the tense/nasty bits. It just felt like a dialogue between film and audience and I loved it.
And so I wanted to watch it again asap and went to see it at an old folks showing in the afternoon with maybe ten people at most. And it really didnt affect me like the first screening - without the buzz in the room, the audience reactions etc it felt more like an inert painting on the wall.
And I had a reverse experience with TWBB - first time I saw it was at an amazing cinema in Perth but there was only about ten people there. My girlfriend and I were jetlagged and she fell asleep. I could just feel the unease in the room as people shifted in their seats. Plus my own tiredness made me start to wonder how much longer this movie would go on. I think my expectations were impossibly high and left feeling disappointed but also disorientated - I could tell there was something in the film for me, it had a power.
Then we saw the film back home in the UK at an independent cinema and the screening was pretty much packed out. There was the buzz in the air. And we both loved it, all my problems with the film just seemed to dissolve away. I love seeing and hearing audiences react to great cinematic moments of impact like the couple of oil accidents that happen in the picture. They reminded me of seeing Cache in the cinema - the shock moment in the middle of the film where SPOILER ALERT the guy takes out the blade and... you know, well the whole room just gasped.
But as much as I love it when a film really works in tandem with the audience, there are of course films that work better alone. I think any film that has a different style of 'reality' to the currently accepted norm for cinema is going to struggle with a contemporary audience. I think any of Dario Argentos films would probably elicit giggles or disdain from an audience today, same goes for any visionaries, Nicholas Ray, Mario Bava, Max Ophuls etc.

I haven't thought of it this way before but thinking of it now I have had some very powerful experiences with a movie watching it by myself and I tend to try and watch movies by myself in an attempt to seek out that transcendent experience. This has happened with The River, The Red Shoes (for that matter any Powell/Pressburger film), Chungking Express, Pi, Holy Mountain, and recently I had a strange experience of feeling as if I was watching Mister Lonely by myself, even though I wasn't alone, when the people around me didn't get it but the images, something I would refer to as pure cinema unable to exist in any other form, pulled me in and while they made quips about arty-Frenchness of movies (an inaccurate statement that I didn't feel like pointing out) I felt alone and dancing with it

One of my private treasures is Jocelyn Morehouse's "Proof." It may very well be the most intimate movie I can think of. While I do wish that more people have seen this little film, the reason I insist on watching it alone is because I get so EMBARRASSED for the characters. . .and I don't want to expose their humiliation to anyone else.

I once had a (not so good)idea to bring the DVD, Robert Wise's "The Haunting," to my friends' house (a married couple who are quite a bit older than me). What I hadn't considered was that they had very little experience watching great films, preferring silly sitcoms, and Survivor. They laughed almost non-stop at what they saw as a campy, dated movie and I secretly seethed, wondering how they could not feel the same wonderful atmospheric creepiness I have always cherished in the film. Lesson learned: sometimes a classic completely goes over the heads of "the masses."

My vote is for Sex y Lucia. It is such a juxtoposed composition that watching it with other people would just leave me distracted. Croupier is another one that not a lot have seen and I always treasure it more because of that when I watch it.

Coincidentally, in Terrence Rafferty's essay on the 50th anniversary of "Vertigo" in the New York Times, he wrote a little about how the film can work better on you if you watch it alone. That essay, combined with this insightful post and following comments, is making me reconsider showing "Vertigo" in my Hitchcock unit in my high school film class.

It's one of my favorite films, but of course, I've never seen it with an audience. Until now, it had never occurred to me that one of the reasons students haven't reacted as positively as I'd hoped might be because they make each other too self-conscious. (And yes, I should've realized that teenagers are ALWAYS self-conscious anyway.)

Jim - Great topic! My private movie is "Searching for Bobby Fischer." I can't stand to watch it with other people because they invariably think it is "a little slow" and "boring," or they have little to no interest in chess. But as I learn to be a father myself, I love to reflect on so many aspects of that wonderful film - the parents being banned from the tournament room, the juxtaposition between the machinelike technique of Ben Kingsley and the loose, risky style of Larry Fishburne, the offered "draw," the scene in the rain when the boy asks Joe Montegna, "why are you standing so far away from me?" Just fantastic. I think I might have to watch it this weekend. Jim, I don't post often, but I appreciate your work. Thanks for the thought-provoking and well-researched commentary, day in and day out.

I had the same experience with "Vertigo" as others have mentioned. Watched it in an undergraduate film class, and wondered why everyone was laughing. After the screening, we talked about it and people were just in stitches about its "old-fashionedness." How dare James Stewart try to make Kim Novak over? Doesn't he know how outrageously sexist that is? And how about when she falls into the bay and doesn't even lose her (old-fashioned) pumps? Ha ha! And Stewart says he "doesn't want to get mixed up in this darn thing" -- he couldn't even say "damn"! Gee, weren't people silly in 1958?

I was so disgusted I couldn't even answer them back.

Great article, Jim. I agree with so many of the films already listed, but a few of my personal favorites would be:

Don't Look Now: While I'd like to see the final five minutes with a crowd, I'd rather watch the rest of it in solitude. A very intimate film, in so many ways.

Gates of Heaven: I also feel this way about most of Errol Morris' other films, aside from Fast, Cheap & Out of Control. I tend to process his films the same way I process books, so it just seems right to watch them alone.

Stroszek & The Enigma of Kasper Hauser: Guess I want to keep Bruno S. all to myself.

I also have echo the sentiment expressed by James S. regarding Picnic at Hanging Rock. A beautiful, tragic film; one I have a hard time viewing with company.

The Cars That Ate Paris , on the other hand...

I agree. I only go to the theater 3-4 times a year. I’m very cautious about watching films with an audience. I don’t have Adam beat, but I went to opening day of “Jarhead” and this couple came in with a baby. Obviously, the baby kept crying with the Gulf War going on the big screen. Why would they allow them into this film in the first place? Another time was during a college film class. I dreaded this because the lists of films were great, except the people were only taking the class because “it’s going to be easy”. Everyone laughed at “Vertigo”, they didn’t understand “Mulholland Drive” and two girls got up and walked out during the rape scene in “Boys Don’t Cry” which made the whole experience even more uncomfortable (in the professors defense, he did warn them days before we watched it). But on the other hand, there were some good times as well. I saw “Sin City” on opening day with a packed crowd and I can’t remember a time I had so much fun at the theater. Everyone in that dark room had this connection with our inner geek and we didn’t care how others felt when we laughed and cringed during the movie.

As for my friends, they can act the same way. I watched “Naked” alone and was floored by its unflinching satire. I was excited to share this discovery with my friends, and when I did only one of them didn't walk out during the movie. It got bad enough to where I was in an argument for defending the movie. In return, though, I did find “Napoleon Dynamite” unfunny and “The Boondock Saints” a piece of garbage when I watched both with a group of friends. Everyone bombarded me with questions to why I didn’t like what they liked. I don’t know. Sometimes I believe people, such as myself, take these things to personal, but films, especially good films, can move something inside of you that hasn’t been done before, and that feeling, for me at least, happens more often when I view them alone. So that’s why I prefer the no sharing attitude when it comes to films.

The movie I can't watch with anyone else is Eric Red's Body Parts, which I saw by myself when it came out, then took a bunch of my friends to see a week later. They laughed at me. Said the movie was garbage and that I was crazy. But I still watch it by myself at least once a year. Maybe it's because I have body dysmorphia. I have always felt that my body has a mind of it's own, that it does what I want at exactly the moment I don't want it to, like it can read my mind. In other words, I am convinced that my body hates me, that it is evil, and I feel that those themes are present in Body Parts. That's why I don't want to share it with anyone else, because I am positive that no one else is going to feel the same way about the movie that I do.

It's interesting that you bring this up because I often think about it myself. Growing up, I rarely watched movies alone and in fact loved watching movies with others. Now I rarely watch movies with other people and almost never go to the theater with friends. And yet I have no idea when the change took place. I figure it must have been a decade or more ago when I was in high school and my parents would be away for the weekend. I'd go to the video store and just rent tons of old movies. It felt very adult for some reason. Incidentally, though, I recall, one time, when I was probably 16, going and renting "La Dolce Vita" and something else that I can't recall (the "Last Detail"?) and running into classmates , who asked, what've you got there? I told them, and they were like, whaa??? I felt as if I was renting pornography or something, I was so deeply embarrassed at choosing to spend my weekend watching old movies, foreign movies. So maybe that's the moment I realized I should watch movies by myself. Maybe it was adolescent embarrassment and not the sophisticated feeling of renting movies on my own.

But even though I generally watch movies alone, can I think of films I want to keep to myself? Not really. I mean, if someone wants to watch "Rules of the Game" or "Velvet Goldmine" because they've never seen the movie, then who am I to deny them, right? Those are movies I prefer to view solo, but I won't forbid the watching of them with others. I think that, probably, the only movie I will avoid watching with others at all costs, under any situation, is "The Wizard of Oz" because it turns me into a pathetic mess (in the best possible way) every time I watch it.

I should also add that there are certain movies, namely "Repo Man" and "Wet Hot American Summer," that I've been known to force on certain people. They've gotta be the right kind of person and in the right kind of mood, for sure, but, man, when those stars align I'm throwing one of those flicks in the DVD player and it's always been magic. I mean, there's nothing quite like watching the scales fall from someone's eyes as they experience Paul Rudd saying "You taste like burger; I don't like you anymore" or the lattice of co-incidence speech for the first time.

Terrific subject, and one that I've thought a lot about over the years.

I watch about 500 films a year generally, of which I see about 30-40 in the theater (usually with friends), about 100 with company the rest by myself (dedicated, state of the art home theater).

I do so keenly know the feeling of heartbreak when you're sharing something dear to you with someone and it just doesn't play. That uncomfortable, defensive and sad feeling you get. Exposing someone to one of your favorite films is for me kinda like telling somebody a secret about myself. At which point the last thing you want is inappropriate laughter or uncomfortable silence, or even derision about the film as has happened when I misjudged the audience. I find that as I get older, the feeling cuts deeper, so there's a lot of stuff I watch alone these days and vastly prefer it that way.

For instance, the idea of watching Hotaru No Haka with anybody is inconceivable. My Bergman, Powell & Pressburger, Ozu, Hitchcock, Herzog and Tarkovsky are for me alone.

BLUE VELVET. I revisit it every couple of years - alone. I saw it when it was first released with a date and I was more worried that the girl I was with was thinking I was a freak for bringing her to such a movie. I later saw it at a revival at the Music Box Theatre in Chicago and couldn't believe how the audience reacted - they laughed - not with it - but at it. I walked out of the theater wondering if I'd seen the same film - the audience, for instance, howled when Dorothy stumbles naked and bruised from the bushes in front of Jeffrey's house - a scene that's horrowing, not really funny. When I watched it alone for the first time - on VHS, no less - I realized that this is a highly personal film, not only for David Lynch, but for the viewer. Its like visiting a nightmare and yet its so compelling that you want to revisit this bizarre world over and over. The DVD - image, sound, aspect ratio - is a revelation. I think people have a similar aloneness with BLUE VELVET - its hard for them to pinpoint who they've seen it with. More likely, they were hunkered alone, in the dark, in a sort of warped glee...I know quite a few people who can quote lines verbatim from this movie...

"Ran" by Akira Kurosawa isn't a film you can watch with other people. I've tried and given up on it. They kept laughing and kept complaining of being bored and even walked out.

We lose something, though, as solitary viewers. I remember seeing Fassbinder's "Berlin Alexanderplatz" back in the early 1980s, all fifteen hours presented over five nights, at a little art-house theater in Kalamazoo. Certainly a self-selected audience; but after being together night after night, chatting during intermission, sitting together in the dark...we ended with a feeling that we'd shared something unique and strange beyond words.

What is film if not the courage to share a dream with others? Who hasn't felt the disappointment of watching something really strange and beautiful and knowing there's no one you know who would appreciate it. Movies like Satyricon or 8-1/2, Herz aus Glas or Aguirre, The Seventh Seal or Fanny and Alexander. It's lonely to dream alone.

Wong Kar-Wai's "Happy Together" absolutely fits into my select few movies that I keep for myself. I've shown it to about half of my friends and they have all enjoyed it, being reverent movie-goers with pretty good taste, but they have not reacted quite the way I have. Even friends of mine that love Wong Kar-Wai are kind of put off by "Happy Together" because of the gay main characters. I suppose I connected with it in the same way everyone else seemed to connect to "Brokeback Mountain." I still don't get the big deal about that movie and I'm gay.

Woody Allen's "Manhattan" also has that special private feeling for me. It just gives me this giddy, in-love-with-movies feeling that I haven't seen in most of my friends' reactions to the film. They usually say it's boring and complain about it not being in color like "Annie Hall." Oh well.

I find that my home theater setup has perhaps spoiled me when it comes to my movie viewing experiences. If at all possible, I prefer to watch movies by myself. I don't think it is a selfish act, as many of my favorite films are my friends' favorites as well. I think that I have just become accustomed to watching films by myself comfortably without distractions in my own home. Going to the theater is fine occasionally, but it seems like the moviegoing experience is polar opposites in terms of crowds now. Either they are great crowds who are there, like you, to watch a movie. And then there are the talkers, texters, and the like. However, I will say that if there was one film that I prefer not to share with others, it would have to be The Third Man.

I watch many of the movie in my Netflix queue by myself, and usually get the feeling that watching them with others would be a disheartening experience. Watching movies alone has been more rewarding with movies like "Cast Away" (can you really get into feeling lonely with someone sitting next to you?) and "The Changeling" (I've never been so terrified in my adult life).

There are some movies I wish I would never have shared (read "recommending") with people though. Sharing "Lost in Translation" was a heartbreaking experience. I saw it by myself it the theater and started crying towards the end and couldn't stop. Not exactly the most tough-guy moment in my life as a twenty-something, but it meant so much to me. Saw it with friends twice, and they loved it.

Then after I got my copy on DVD, I shared it with a few people from work. I was RIDICULED. One woman even proceeded to tell others not to listen to my movie suggestions because I had recommended such a boring film. "It was funny like a Bill Murray movie should be!" she said. I felt like someone was kicking my heart.

However on the positive side, every time I share one of my all-time favorites, Joe Dante's "Matinee," friends love it. If you love movies, you owe it to yourself to see it.

Great post!

I love watching Hitch's movies (Rope, Shadow of a Doubt), older movies, like the style (Citizen Kane), the dialog (Double Indemnity, Casablanca). I can't stand watching it with someone who complains its old, dated, its black and white, and worse, their's no action! I appreciate the craftmanship. I like the grubby, bickering disciples in the Last Temptation of Christ. I loved Far From Heaven's look - Douglas Sirk rocked! Don't need someone spoiling the mood and appreciation. I had and elderly pair of ladies a few rows behind me naively commenting all the way through No Country For Old Men - it drove me crazy!