My grandmother received a set of Frank Capra movies for Christmas. Among the films was Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, which reminded me of one of the best movie experiences of my life – sitting on the National Mall looking at a screen with the Congressional building as the backdrop watching that film. Even now it’s difficult to describe my emotions: patriotism, optimism, sadness. I was on the verge of tears the entire screening. There was something elusive yet powerful in sitting with a group of Washingtonians at the seat of US power and watching the quintessential film about our culture of democracy. It was a uniquely American experience and the movie, setting and group of people were the main ingredients of the mix.

Location is important. Whether you are watching a John Waters’ Pink Flamingos at midnight in New York City, or Alfred Hitchcock at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Los Angeles, or even at the multiplex. Did you ever go to the midnight screening on opening day of an episode of Lord of the Rings or Star Wars? Die-hard fans come out to those screenings. I remember cheering when Aniken Skywalker kicked ass in the pod race, or the sheer despair when Gandalf fell into the abyss of Moria sacrificing himself for the Fellowship. We congregate in a darkened theater to collectively suspend our lives and share in the story. It would be nearly impossible to have such an experience watching an ipod, or even on TV. There is unique chemistry in the movie-going experience.

As to location, multiplexes have very little life in and of themselves, Another top screening experience I recall was Baz Lurhman’s Moulin Rouge at the Ziegfeld in NYC. The Ziegfeld’s red curtains opened to the film that opens on another red curtain and an orchestra. From my seat, the players looked life-sized and the whole film felt like a grand experience in that setting. It seemed the movie was made to be seen at that theater. I can only imagine a much dimmer experience in lesser settings.

Industry wisdom says that as more screens become available, the audience for the theater experience is splintered, pointing to disappointing box office returns, particularly in 2005, to prove this. Perhaps, but there are also rising costs for movie production and skyrocketing advertising bills to get folks out to sub-par stories. There is little qualitative analysis of films (if anyone has ideas on this, I’d love to hear). I’d also be curious to see analysis on the number of screens available and film output each year – we are up to over 6000 movie screens in the US, and how many films with major distribution each year? Studios pull films after only a week or 2 of disappointing box office, and that slot is then filled. I’ve never seen a blank screen, even at a 10 or 12-screen theater. But how can you expect to draw people into lifeless settings for crappy stories? Production value is amazing but so many films lack the heart of wildly successful films that had far less gloss, like Pink Flamingos.

Audiences. It’s impossible to make too many generalizations here. If you make a great movie that connects with people, they go. But I have noticed a trend toward placing all of the responsibility for enjoyment on the film. Take Lars von Trier’s Dogville. The film is staged like a wireframe of itself. The set is a floorplan and the actors mime opening doors and such. They must react to surroundings that don’t exist, and in that regard it is like a stage play. The audience is forced to use their imagination to place the characters in the setting. I don’t remember Dogville being on anyone’s top favorite film list, mine included, but it did make me think long and hard about why I was disappointed when asked to utilize my imagination and participate with a film in that way. The best films strike a balance between giving the audience an opportunity to engage and showing them a point of view. Filmmakers who can harness the strengths of the medium to enfold an audience are masters of their craft and are the kinds of films best suited to the theater.

From the filmmaker’s standpoint, there is also the question of art. Making a film that conforms to some kind of societal standard of “entertaining” is the antithesis of art. Art is meant to cultivate new points of view, to challenge the times and expectations of form. Films that are successful on these points go beyond where anyone thinks beforehand is wise or possible (Titanic springs to mind, though this is probably a contentious example). And yes, many films suffer from the need to not fail – filmmakers are not allowed to exercise their vision and are forced into concessions to satisfy higher-ups (frequently wrong) ideas of what will or won’t be successful. This is the intersection of the business and the art of film and there are many that navigate these waters better than others.

After all of this musing on the screening experience, my point is this: if filmmakers are so keen to show in theaters and be successful there, why not think about the reasons why the theater experience is unlike watching on some other screen and serve up those experiences? Figure out how the film can maximize its experiential components – which theater? Which moviegoers will enhance the screening? Should it be shown in the morning, or at midnight? And most importantly, don’t try to fit a square peg in a round hole; if the movie doesn’t belong in the theater, don’t waste resources trying to get it there. There are so many ways to find your audience. You might have to get creative and do a bit more work but your film will be more successful.