How to See a Movie, Lisa Style

I've been thinking of writing this entry for a while. A screening of Semi-Pro in March - seriously - and my lack of reaction to it, despite my love of Will Ferrell, gave me some ideas for a test.

With all due respect to my friends and family, my ideal movie-viewing partner often is … myself.

I like a lot of indies, documentaries, and/or mediocre-looking movies with one redeeming element. I told several people recently that Hope Davis is one of my two favorite actresses. I received a lot of blank stares. This makes me sad. (I see a Hope Davis essay in my future.) The point, though, is that I can’t tell someone, “Hey, I want to check out the new Hope Davis feature,” as most people have no idea who she is. By going to a theater alone, I also don’t feel as great a need to justify why I would spend $10 to see a poorly reviewed George Clooney flick. (Leatherheads, BTW, was much better than I expected, particularly when it stuck to the newspaper angle. Oh, and I didn’t pay for it; I had a free movie pass courtesy of my AMC Moviewatcher membership.)

I like the darkness enveloping me, and I feel more smothered in solitude. In addition, I enjoy drinking my fountain soda and eating my contraband snack with nothing around me except my stuff. And, well, to be honest …

The best part about going to the cinema alone is that I don’t have to have someone yammering in my ear or asking questions in the middle of the flick. I’ve never admitted this to my offending friends and family members, and now I’m confessing it in a blog entry: You know who you are, you know I love you, but I really cannot stand it when you smack my arm midway through a crucial scene to ask me where it’s being shot or how you know that actor. Write the question down and ask me when we’re outside! Look, I paid good money to sit in this theater! Furthermore, these days, at least half the time I’m taking notes.

That being said, I have two exceptions to the “me, myself, and I” rule: summer blockbusters and comedies. I’m not much of a big-budget bonanza person, so if I have to see one, I’d rather have someone take me. At that point, I also realize the plot usually doesn’t require much focus, so I won’t be as irked if you comment on Will Smith’s ears. As for comedies, I believe I’ve read studies about this, and it’s true: They’re funnier in a group. A related case in point: The Mena Suvari-hosted episode of Saturday Night Live in 2001 was iffy at best, but seeing the dress rehearsal made everything hysterical, and it wasn’t just the Janet Reno cameo. A lot of the so-called recent classic comedies - Old School, Mean Girls, Knocked Up, The 40-Year-Old Virgin - failed to amuse me at all. I’ve seen Clerks three or four times, and the only time I liked it was at a seven-person party at my house.

With several comedies coming out in the next few weeks, I have decided to test a theory. I will go to two well-received movies, one on my own on a weekday after work and the other on opening night with a friend. I believe I’ll enjoy my second movie experience more because of the audience angle.

Using Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic, I have chosen to see Forgetting Sarah Marshall alone on a Thursday afternoon at the mall and Baby Mama with my 16-year-old sister on Friday night - opening weekend, no less - in Bayonne, N.J. Let’s see how the experiment works, shall we? In the meantime, what’s your ideal viewing scenario?