Wednesday, January 11 2017 // The Statement
7B
A
little under a month ago, I received a Facebook
notification that the Regal Cinemas Bethesda
movie theater in my Maryland hometown
was shutting its doors after more than 20 years of busi-
ness. “Thank you, Bethesda. We will miss you” has now
replaced the multiplex’s film titles that used to casually
scroll across the marquee.
What was once a staple of downtown Bethesda slowly
became a deserted theater with sometimes more employ-
ees than movie-goers milling about the concession stand.
What was once a hotspot where the likes of boxer Mike
Tyson, sportscaster James Brown and I — yeah, I’m feel-
ing I should be in the same category — would go to catch
a movie on a Saturday night, is now merely a place to meet
up with friends. The place where ushers once donned
burgundy uniforms with ear pieces and perfect customer
service turned into a place constantly plagued with air
conditioning failures in the summer months and teen-
age workers who were too busy to clean up the popcorn
crumbs and soda spills in Theater Eight.
I had two or three birthday parties at Regal Bethesda,
as we referred to it. I don’t even remember what the mov-
ies were or how old I was, but I distinctly remember those
birthdays as being some of the best. Going to the movies
with a bunch of friends, passing popcorn down the row
to make sure everyone got some. Racing over to the candy
machines, sliding quarters into the slots and eagerly
awaiting a handful of M&Ms to drop into my cup. After-
ward, heading next door to Uno’s Pizzeria (sadly, also a
distant memory) to construct make-your-own pizzas.
What was once a special experience, from birthday
parties to date nights, became a way to go out with others
without having to talk to them for at least an hour and a
half. What used to be appreciated by everyone had mere-
ly been demoted to satisfying middle schoolers enjoying
their newfound independence, senior citizens attending
10 a.m. screenings to ensure the matinee rate and small
children mesmerized by the newest animated sensation.
What used to be a place where people of all ages went to
make memories became just a building with too many
seats.
With the demise of Regal Bethesda goes the theater
of my childhood, along with old-school aspects of movie
theaters that have been lost in the shuffle and replaced
by newer — but not always better — features. The spon-
taneity of movies has been replaced by expensive tickets
that must be reserved at least a day in advance to claim a
good seat. Yes, reserved seats in a movie theater is now
the norm. No more pushing in line to grab a good seat to
the latest box office hit. Just like everything in our lives
nowadays, something as classic as going to the movies
can be purchased without any human interaction needed
at all. The adventure can be calculated and meticulously
planned into our schedules.
But reserved seating aside, there is nothing like going
to the movies. The lights dim, you sit back in your seat,
brace for impact and delve into the storyline. And for the
next two hours, you’re immersed in darkness and trans-
ported to another universe. Watching movies in a theater
on a big screen will never change for me. From trailers to
credits, I instantly become invested in the characters and
the plot and the setting, the dialogue and the music and
everything that encapsulates the story set before you.
For two hours, it’s a constant fight worth fighting —
combatting the talkers, the texters and those who open
their candy wrappers with such ferocity that it seems like
they need to bring in the National Guard to open a stu-
pid bag of Skittles. It’s watching previews and mentally
noting which films you want to see and others that you’ll
take a hard pass on — including the requisite thumbs up
or down motion you give to your friend sitting next to
you.
For those fleeting hours, you forget everything that’s
not in that one theater on that one screen — your bad day,
your looming exams, your laundry list of things to do.
Because for just this magical moment, none of that mat-
ters. The only thing that matters is what’s on the silver
screen.
When I was 2 years old, I saw my first movie, “The
Emperor’s New Groove.” When I was 3, I saw “Ice Age,”
but walked — actually more like sprinted — out of the
theater because the tiger scared the living hell out of me.
When I was 5, I saw the new “Peter Pan” movie with my
mom and was afraid to even step foot into a large, dark
room and watch a movie with just four people in the the-
ater. When I was 6 years old, I saw “Because of Winn-
Dixie” and threw up 20 minutes into the movie because
I had food poisoning. I never did find out what happened
to that dog.
At Regal Bethesda, I saw my first PG-13 movie, “Shall
We Dance” and my first R-rated movie, “The King’s
Speech.” I also snuck into “22 Jump Street” even though
it was R-rated and I was too young to buy a ticket and
went to a “double-feature,” paying for one movie, then
slipping into a second right after (I know, I’m sort of a
badass).
Over winter break, my mom and I went to see the
instant smash-hit musical “La La Land,” a genuine
throwback to classic cinema. This film perfectly solidifies
why films are so special, especially on the large screen.
The surround-sound that grabbed me into a world full of
song and dance, the bright colors pristinely displayed in
high-definition quality that fully engrossed me into the
plot, were electrifying. This is the power of coupling a
wonderful film with an irreplaceable movie theater expe-
rience.
All these memories come from going to the theaters.
Not sitting in bed watching Netflix on my laptop or
streaming Hulu on my iPhone, but actually going out to
the movies. And, yes, it’s well worth the investment of
paying upward of $14 a ticket.
Not only do I have less time to see movies in theaters
while I’m at college, but the rise of online streaming and
television has unfortunately made going to movie the-
aters somewhat irrelevant and pointless. Unless you’re
a film student or, in my case, have a parent in the film
world, the luxury of sitting in plush theater seats sur-
rounded by the requisite popcorn aroma no longer feels
so compelling to my generation.
I’m a film buff who demands no interruptions during
my movies. Maybe I’m old-fashioned. Yes, I’m the same
guy who also likes holding a newspaper in my hand and
wandering around bookstores for hours upon hours. But
the movies are sacred in theaters, more important than
anything else in the world at that exact moment when the
lights go down and the image spreads across the screen.
Sadly, I missed the opportunity to experience one last
film at Regal Bethesda before its doors closed. But luckily
I have endless childhood memories to help me move for-
ward. Thank you, Regal Bethesda, for doing your part in
showing me the power of film in its truest form — across
the theater’s largest screens. I will miss you.
Personal Statement: Goodbye, It’s Been Reel
by Benjamin Katz, Daily Sports Writer
ILLUSTRATION BY CLAIRE ABDO AND KATIE SPAK