I listen to several different podcasts about movies and if there’s one thing they all have in common it’s praise for the experience of seeing movies in the theater. Indeed, they exhort listeners to go out to theaters and see movies with others and enjoy the kind of communal experience you just can’t have at home, no matter how good your setup is from a technical standpoint. Recent experience suggests they might be overselling things.

A couple of weeks ago the wife and I did something we haven’t done in years – we actually went to the theater to see a real, grown-up, R-rated movie, the new Soderberg flick Black Bag, which I enthusiastically recommend.

We’ve gone to theaters in the past (less frequently since COVID hit, of course), but usually for the kind of big-screen spectacle popcorn movie that makes Scorsese itch. Those, to me, are more made for the big crowd thing than smaller movies that you have to engage with a little more. But this was the first time we’d been to see something like this in quite a while.

Things got off to an inauspicious start as there was absolutely nobody in the lobby of the theater complex (attached to the one mall in the area that remains thriving) when we arrived – no patrons, no employees. That meant we had to buy tickets via a kiosk, which went smoothly enough, although some vital information about the showing we were going to was left out (more on that in a moment).

Around the corner the concession stand was manned by a couple of young kids, but the crux of the moviegoing experience – popcorn and drinks – was all self-serve (the kids ran the registers, at least). There was a menu of other stuff that I suppose they would have made for you upon request, but we’d just had lunch so it wasn’t much of a concern. Still, we’ve not even made it into the theater yet and the experience is kind of cold and off-putting.

Our theater was at the very end of the corridor (not a problem!), which gave us the chance to walk past a handful of other theaters, some with movies playing. Some of the doors were open, others weren’t, but in either event you could hear what was going on inside pretty well. Not the best of omens for a satisfying movie experience. Next door to us the new Captain America flick was well underway.

Since we were early I took the chance to wander back up the corridor for a bathroom break. On the way back I noticed that one of the other theaters was in the middle of Anora, apparently rereleased on the back of its Best Picture Oscar win. It was during one of the louder more expletive-laden parts, so I decided to peek in and drink in a few minutes on the big screen, since we only got to see it at home. Inside there was nothing on the screen – no picture, no flickering, no nothing. But the soundtrack was going strong. I assume there was nobody in there (I was a little scared to look, frankly), but then why run the sound? It was just another odd note in a growing symphony.

As the loop of pre-movie ads gave way to previews, we noted that a couple of them used subtitles, even though the previews were all in English. My wife wondered if the movie itself would have them and I said I hoped not. Sure enough, once the opening titles were gone the subtitles popped up again. I ran back up the corridor to ask if they could be turned off (the kid at the concession stand said he didn’t know). Apparently they couldn’t, as they ran during the entire movie. It’s a minor annoyance, but a distracting one nonetheless.

It turns out that this screening was set aside as one for folks with hearing impairments and, thus, the subtitles were the point. I’ve no problem with that, but there was nothing in the ticket-buying process or the Google movie times listing that indicated this was that kind of screening. It was only afterwards, when I went to the theater’s website specifically, that I got an explanation. Had we known that ahead of time, we’d have gone to a different theater.

Three other people watched the movie with us. Two were a couple a few rows behind us (the ticket kiosk sells reserved seats, but that was pointless given the turnout). A little past halfway they started to be attacked by plastic bags (I can only suspect), given the occasional bouts of plastic crinkly noises. The other cinemagoer was a guy who came in about 20 minutes late and then left and came back three more times (always sitting in those couple of rows right in front of the screen). I’m not sure he made it all the way to the end.

Along the way there was at least one point where I could hear Sam and Red Hulk smashing it up next door. And, repeatedly, parts of the screen would go pixelized briefly in the way a streaming service does if it’s a little sluggish.

All of these are minor annoyances. None alone ruined the movie, nor did the weight of all of them together. As I said, the movie is great and worth seeing and I did it as part of a lovely afternoon out with my beloved (we even dodged the rain!). Still, if this is what the modern moviegoing experience is it doesn’t do a lot to inspire.

I don’t want to deny anyone the communal movie-going experience if that’s their thing and I realize the importance of it to the health of the industry, but I’m clearly not the one who finds the process less than thrilling these days. Black Bag, critically well received and the “kind of movie they don’t make anymore” – aimed at grownups, original, not the first in a series, an only a trim 94 minutes long – won’t even break even, it looks like. The modern theater-going experience is cold, sterile, and off-putting.

Sorry, Marty, but I’ll continue to consume most of my cinema at home on the couch with a snoozing puppy by my side.