I recently had the privilege of visiting the Angelika Film Center and Café in East Village, New York, with my English class, Thinking About Genre Through Film. My professor, Jacob Soule, took us to watch the masterpiece that is Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho” during the theater’s annual Hitchcock-tober, an event that takes place every Halloween season. The theater plays an acclaimed Hitchcock movie every Wednesday night leading up to Halloween, eventually ending with “Psycho” on Oct. 31.
I have seen “Psycho” many times. I know it in and out. However, until this Halloween, I had never seen “Psycho” in theaters, only on the small screen of my laptop. Though I was able to appreciate its cinematic innovations and significance that way, watching such a famous film in person has a whole other feel.
When the lights dim and the voices cease, there’s a palpable shift in the atmosphere. Everyone waits with anticipation for the iconic musical score and moving credits. Everyone is feeling the same thing you are. There’s a unique sense of community that comes with a packed theater. Every emotion you feel—the fear, sadness and laughter—is not just yours, and there’s a particular sense of comfort that comes with that knowledge.
On the small screen of my computer, “Psycho” felt intimate, like a personal invitation into its dark world. But in the theater, it felt larger. There were many details that I never picked up on and that gave the significance of the film a whole new identity. I even heard several people who had never seen the movie before gasp when secrets were revealed and the plot thickened.
It wasn’t just the film that had impacted the audience, but the atmosphere of the whole evening—the Halloween night, the old theater, the shared experience of watching something so iconic. “Psycho,” and movies in general, aren’t just about plot twists—they’re about creating an immersive atmosphere. Through the darkness of the theater, the shadows of the Bates Motel seemed to creep out of the film and into the rows of seats.
The small screen of a laptop cannot even begin to compare to the magnitude of a theater screen. A theater screen envelopes the whole room, immersing its eager visitors in the film and its world. Not only is the quality far better, but one is free from all distractions (except for buttery popcorn or a sweet treat, of course). A theater provides an escape from the outside world where nothing but the film in front of you matters.
There’s a reason people keep returning to the darkened rooms of a cinema. It’s not just for the nostalgia of it—it’s proof that there’s something special about watching something on the big screen that a computer could never fulfill. Films are created to be viewed in this way, where people can come together and enjoy the art of film.
Featured image courtesy of Dee Cohen.
