Returning to the movie theater with my Nana's ghost

Being a couch potato is nice, but there's something magical about watching a film on the big screen.

We are losing the movie theater experience. I can’t emphasize enough how wonderful and exilherating it is. Go see a movie this weekend at your local theater!

Nearly every movie I saw before the age of 16 with with my Nana. She brought me to my very first movies like E.T., Annie, The Goonies, and Ghostbusters.

As a teen, she would take me into Philadelphia to the Ritz movie theaters to see films like The Piano, Como Agua Para Chocolate, Eat Drink Man Woman, Il Postino, The Crying Game.

These movies introduced me to complex storytelling, complicated emotions, betrayal, manipulation, power, romance, sex, queerness, drag queens, trans experiences, culture, history, and the nuance of the human experience.

This all came to me, early one morning after I asked myself why I recently wanted to watch more films. Why am I suddenly drawn to the movies, wanting immerse myself more deeply in stories?

After the last five years of pandemic-driven streaming platforms, Zooming, exhausting social media posts, accelerated online-ness, and meh content overload, I am overwhelmed. I seek LESS, I seek QUALITY. Quantity is nice (sometimes), but it can’t compete with quality.

For about six months, I’ve slowly detached myself from quantity, retreating (returning to?) quality. To nuance. To critical thinking. To deeper meanings, discussions. I began making my own playlists (and seeking the playlists of other humans), reading a book instead of scrolling when I’m bored, spending slow mornings reflecting and writing. Making weird stickers. Throwing myself into my art projects. Knitting sweaters.

And I’m watching more films.¹ There are so many masterpieces I haven’t seen—beautiful, heartbreaking stories that feed my emotions and my soul in a way a Netflix movie could never. I catch myself thinking about them days later, which is more than I can say for most streaming movies and shows². They’re the simple carbs of content. I need something that actually nourishes me.

I met my husband when I was 16, and he started to replace my Nana as my movie buddy. There wasn’t much else to do as a teenager besides hang at the mall, so we ended up in the movie theater a lot.³ Whether it was the dollar theater or the fancy indie film theater, we spent a lot of time eating popcorn in the dark, then going to a diner for coffee and discussion.

My husband and I hadn’t seen a movie together (without our kid) in a long time, so I suggested that we go see a movie. A real date night. It had been too long!

My Nana died in 2020. At the time, I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to properly grieve given all that was going on, and so I have been grieving, slowly, here and there. Driving in my car, writing in my journal, opening a drawer, it will hit me. When I feel any kind of deep emotion, I feel her presence. The more I reflect on my life, the more I feel her with me.

It never occurred to me how impactful our movie dates were. Now, I’m honoring her every time I choose an independent film to watch or walk into a theater.

I’d forgotten how much I missed sitting in a dark theater, completely absorbed in a story—losing track of everything outside, if only for a few hours—then stepping back into reality, squinting at the light, brain buzzing, feeling alive.

Thanks for reading! Unsquare is a regular feature written by Jaime Derringer about creativity, business, leadership, and technology.

1. I bought a Criterion Collection subscription—highly recommended.

2. There are exceptions, of course!

3. It’s also a great place to make out. 😆