Mission Filmpossible: 30 Movies in 30 Days
One Somerville man attempted the unthinkable: See a movie a day for 30 days — in theaters. His reason? To determine if moviegoing is still worthwhile.
PART 1: THE FOLLOWING PREVIEW HAS BEEN APPROVED FOR APPROPRIATE AUDIENCES
Late December, 2014
I sat down in my dentist’s chair for a checkup about two hours after I got the OK for this project.
“Can I ask you a question?’’ I said. “How bad would it be for my teeth if I were to eat one package of Sno-Caps a day for the the entire month?’’
“Why would you do that?’’ she asked, with a wrinkled brow.
So, I explained the idea of seeing 30 movies in 30 days. The idea hit me when a friend of mine posted an article about the MoviePass on my Facebook wall in mid-December. “You’d be perfect for it!’’ they wrote. The MoviePass offers one moviegoing experience every 24 hours for one flat rate: $30 a month.
I had to give it a try.
I didn’t decide to embark on this journey, because I’m some kind of Morgan Spurlock-level experimenter. I did it because the moviegoing experience has always has been a huge part of my life. When I was 5 years old, my father and I started a Friday night tradition of going to the movies together, which continued until I graduated high school.
If we liked the movie enough to see it again, we went right back there on Saturday night, too. We watched Speed four times in the span of two 1994 weekends — and I wanted to go see it again. The next weekend, my dad ended up taking the whole family to go see The Lion King instead. Hakuna matata.
My dad made me into a seasoned moviegoer by the first grade and a grizzled veteran by the third. I spent more time at the movies than I ever did playing “outside.’’
And I loved it. Every aspect of it. I loved picking out the yellowest kernels of popcorn in the bag and pouring an entire box of Sno-Caps down my throat before the previews started. I loved the rush of sneaking in beverages for my father — tucked into my oversized Patriots starter jacket. I loved reading the little movie preview pamphlets that let you know what was coming, way before the Internet and message boards covered every little aspect of production from signing to filming to distribution.
I loved the movies themselves, especially the thrill I got when I saw the R rating pop up on the poster. My dad had no qualms about bringing me to feature films that no grade schooler should really see, most of them action movies dripping with severed heads, partial nudity, punctured arteries, and the like. I still have nightmares about the eyeball-gouging scene in Demolition Man — so, thanks for that, Dad.

Me and the man whose love for films fueled my 30-day fire.
But most of of all, I loved spending time with the man who passed down this love of film and this deep immersion into the experience from such a young, impressionable age. After I grew up and moved away to college, and then to graduate school, I kept up that movie pace, seeing at least one or two a week for the last 13 or so years. And after just about every one of them, every hungover Saturday feature or exciting Friday-night opening, I’d text or call my dad to compare notes with what he thought of a film. I always thought, when I had my own kids, I’d make the moviegoing ritual part of our shared night. Just, you know, without the eye gouging.
But a generation of kids with short attention spans, smartphones, and an incessant need to talk, has turned seeing a movie into a chore. Summer blockbusters have devolved from Jurassic Park to insulting destruction porn like Transformers 4: Age of Extinction. The Interview made a giant chunk of change by getting released straight to the Internet (thank you, hackers), in what sounded like an unintentional glimpse into the future. Tickets and drink prices are still wallet-denting expensive. With all those check marks against the theater experience, is the next generation going to forget about movie theaters like they have forgotten about malls?
So, that was my aim with this project—to see if going out to the movies is still worth it and to see if the MoviePass could help my wallet out in the process. I needed to see if, someday, my kids would even have the chance to feel the same way I did when my dad first held my hand to bring me into that darkened theater.
PART II: THE MAIN ATTRACTION
January 2015
I did end up seeing 30 movies in those 30 days. Barely, but I made it.
I figured out pretty quickly that I wouldn’t be able to see all 30 movies using only the MoviePass. It turned out to be more of a helping hand than anything else. It’s a bit of an imperfect system. I ended up using it for 18 of the 30 movies I saw; the other 12 were either double-dips (movies seen within 24 hours of each other) or were seen at theaters that didn’t accept the pass. (You can see the ones that took MoviePass on the list below.) I definitely saved money with the pass, so it was worth it, for me.
For the casual moviegoer, though? I’m not so sure if it’s worth it. I could spot some flaws. You can only see one movie every 24 hours with the MoviePass. So, that means if I saw a movie at, say, 8 p.m. on a Friday night, I’d have to wait for an 8:30 p.m. screening on Saturday to get the benefit. Using the pass takes some strategic planning, and if you’re a movie fan that likes to do the Friday night-Saturday morning combo, you’ll be paying for one of them.
Also, there’s no way to order the tickets before you get to the theater with the card. You have to check in at the theater and select the showing you want to see with an app on your phone, then physically order it from the ticket taker, and have them swipe the card. It’s not a huge problem in blockbuster-bereft January, but there’s no way that you’re going to be able to use the MoviePass for an opening-night screening of Avengers: Age of Ultron in May, for example, unless you get to the theater way, way early.
If you’re a one-grade-above average moviegoer who likes going, say, once or twice a week, and at off-peak hours, then MoviePass will probably be worth an investment. For those who just view moviegoing as an every-so-often treat for special occasions or big movies? Save your money.

The people filling move theater seats may be both the greatest threat — and the greatest benefit — to the movie-going experience.
While I was seeing the films, one thing was abundantly clear: The people filling move theater seats may be both the greatest threat — and the greatest benefit — to the moviegoing experience. I don’t mean to go “old man yells at cloud,’’ but the breakdown of manners and normal social graces in theaters has made it harder to enjoy the experience. In Unbroken (January 2), there were two ancient old ladies providing a running commentary while rustling a plastic bag throughout the movie; in Selma (January 9), the lower bowl of the theater was lit up like Broadway with the glow of cellphone screens.
At a lot of the movies, though, the shared experience was one of the real benefits of actually being in the theater. I could feel the joy of the kids bubbling up around me when I saw Paddington (January 17), and that caused my smile to grow a little wider. The opposite took place at American Sniper (January 15); where people were so emotionally drained, they could barely move.
During the Blade Runner screening (at the Brattle Theater, in 35mm format), the movie sputtered and died in the middle of the famous “Tears in the Rain’’ monologue at the end of the film, to a mournful wail from the audience. Afterwards, some joker yelled out “Director’s cut!’’ which earned him some guffaws from the audience (the movie soon came back to life without other incident).
It’s that sort of stuff that you can’t get at home that makes it worth it. You can watch a Red Sox game from home, and the outcome will still be the same. But if you’re at Fenway, you’re getting an experience. You’re smelling the popcorn, you’re eating the hot dogs, you’re there with the crowd, you’re put through the emotional wringer on occasion—actually, the ballpark and the movies are just about the same thing, right?
The best thing about this project was being pleasantly surprised by features I absolutely would never have otherwise seen in the theater, or ever watched at all. I went into the Bollywood feature P.K. (January 5) as a curiosity more than anything. I went in not knowing anything about the movie and expecting a lighter film full of singing and dancing. Those elements were certainly present, but to my surprise, the movie turned into a remarkably sharp religious satire — and one of the best films I’ve seen all year.
As you can expect, my enthusiasm waxed and waned during the month — mostly depending in the quality of the movie that I was going to see. I was excited to see stuff like Two Days, One Night (January 28), features that I would have happily seen anyways; but it was hard to drum up any spirit for a Thursday-night showing of The Boy Next Door (January 22).
One aspect of the project that I couldn’t build up any enthusiasm for was seeing kids movies. I’m an unmarried, childless and single 30 year old; there’s no non-suspicious way I could be seeing Paddington at 11 a.m. on a Saturday, but thanks to time and sheer “I’m running out of movies!’’ demand, that’s exactly what happened. But the movie was so charming that I forgot about the awkwardness after a while.
It was very entertaining seeing the film with all those kids. Refreshing, even. I could sense the delight sweeping over them in the audience, and those little gasps of surprise at plot points were something that I’m not used to; you just don’t get that as a veteran moviegoer. It was hard not to smile at their excited little ramblings as the movie ended.
My experience at Annie (January 13) was a little bit more awkward, and totally my fault — I ran there straight from the gym, without showering or thinking to change out of my sweats. I got a few looks. If I ever do this project again, I’ll just offer to bring a friend’s child along to any G or PG-rated film. It’ll cost a little more, but it’ll be worth it.

The AMC Loews in downtown Boston gets the job done, but it’s starting to show its age.
I went to seven different theaters throughout the Boston metro area during this project:
● Assembly Row (Included in the MoviePass): All of the bells and whistles—the comfy seats, the increased selection of food and drink, the reserved seating—offered at the Boston area’s newest theater really does make a difference. Plus, if you drive (there’s a big, free parking garage in the same building) or take the T (the Orange Line station is about a two-minute walk away) it’s relatively convenient. The only downside? There aren’t enough theaters to show the smaller, indie movies that the Loews downtown has. A-
● Kendall Square Cinema (Not included in the MoviePass): It’s not a cheap excursion, but as far as movie selection goes, The Kendall is top-notch; you won’t find a better outlet for smaller, indie films in the Boston area. B+
● Loews Downtown (Included in the MoviePass): Gets the job done, but it’s starting to show its age. Long lines at the concession stands are the norm, and the bathrooms, particularly, aren’t in the greatest of shape. Still, gets some points for offering a huge movie selection and having all those old posters on the wall. B+
● Somerville Theater (Included in the MoviePass): I didn’t get to see a show in its main auditorium—which is still very cool, even if the seats are ancient, and you can hear every creak in the theater. The smaller upstairs and downstairs theaters, though, are getting older and older by the minute, but it’s still a great place for a movie. B
● Regal Fenway (Included in the MoviePass): A nice alternative to the Loews Downtown. They’re practically interchangeable. B
● Brattle Theater (Not included in the MoviePass): A retro experience, but without any charm. C
● Apple Cinemas (Not included in the MoviePass): It’s a theater that should have been closed a decade ago. D
PART III – FADE TO BLACK / END CREDITS
February 2015
When the process was over, I asked myself the bigger question: Is the moviegoing experience still worth it? The short answer is yes.
There might be more modern annoyances in the theater, sure. And of course it’s easier to stream a season or two of Friends on your television than it is to make the commitment to go out to a theater. But there’s still magic in the moviegoing experience.
I found little things that surprised and delighted me — little things that you just couldn’t get while lying in your bed at home.

There’s still magic in the movie-going experience, evidenced here by kids seeing “Spellbound’’ at the Legoland Discovery 4D theater in Somerville last year.
The audience cracking up at a Lost reference at the end of The Wedding Ringer (January 20). Someone loudly exclaiming “I can’t believe I paid to see that !@#$!’’ after The Boy Next Door ended. Waves of pure emotion rippling through the audience like shock during the bloody recreation of the famous civil rights march in Selma, tenseness during the fraught opening scene to American Sniper, despair as Julianne Moore’s mind leaves her in Still Alice (January 25).
Rationalizing consuming like a kid again, if only for a little while, when I created an unholy delicious mixture of Coca-Cola Zero Orange and Lime at that “Freestyle’’ machine. That little thrill of excitement when the green THE FOLLOWING…preview message came on the screen, hoping that it might be something I could get excited for.
Those are moments that people just can’t get at home. They were worth the money.
When I started this project, I wondered if someday my kids would even ever want to go to the movies, and if the whole idea would be obsolete by then. I think I found my answer.
I sat next to a young kid of about 4 or 5 and his father at the second to last movie, Black or White (January 31). As the trailer for Pan popped up, full of flying ships and a snarling Hugh Jackman and dancing pirates, I heard a “Whoa!’’ come up from the son. Then he turned to his father and said, “Dad, can we see this here?’’
To comment, please create a screen name in your profile
To comment, please verify your email address
Conversation
This discussion has ended. Please join elsewhere on Boston.com