I Watched A Movie Alone

Last night, I did something that I believe is still widely-perceived as unthinkable. I watched a movie alone.

When I announced the decision to my colleague beside me, she gasped in mild disbelief. Why? She asked. Why do you want to watch a movie alone? Nobody wants to watch it with you?

Not that, I shrugged. I’ve just never tried that before. I’ve dined alone, I’ve shopped alone… I’ve just never watched a movie alone. And I wonder what that might be like.

My colleague shook her head. I would never watch a movie alone. What movie are you watching?

I paused. New York I Love You. I said. I didn’t tell her that if there was any movie I had to watch alone at this point in my life, it would be New York I Love You.

I wanna watch that too. Can I go with you? We can pretend not to know each other. But I’ll be sitting beside you. She grinned.

I smiled at her signature adorably-silly-yet-slightly-clever wit. What’s the point?

I know there are people out there who have absolutely no problems watching movies alone, and I have no intention of referring to them as weirdos. Or freaks. Or outcasts for that matter. But having asked around, most people do squirm at the idea of sitting in that freezing dark theatre hall all by themselves.

I’m not one to rebel by nature (though many friends think otherwise) but I wanted to know what the big deal was, not being able to watch a movie alone. I don’t talk to my movie buddy in the theatre anyway, I rationalized. So whether or not I have someone with me doesn’t really make a difference. The point of watching a movie is, afterall, to watch the movie (duh). Companionship then, is perhaps just a bonus. (Or at times a nuisance if your movie buddy happens to fancy guessing the flick’s ending by whispering comments into your ear throughout the movie. He’s the killer, I know it, I just know it…… Awww, that’s so sweet. He’s gonna propose, he’s gonna propose. Just wait and see!)

With that, I marched on to the cinema after work. As determined as I was in embarking on this whole new experience, it felt just slightly unnerving collecting the ticket (Hah! Note the singular form) from the box office. Earlier I had decided to spare myself the torture of queueing up at the counter and having to say, “ONE ticket to New York I Love You, please.” and booked my seat online instead. I just had to imagine the salesperson raising an eyebrow and repeating after me, “Just ONE ticket, Madam?”

I guess god was kind; I collected my ticket and got through the usher point with no skeptical brows raised at me. I entered the hall and warily lowered myself into the cushy seat. Then I looked around – the hall was nearly full. Everybody came with somebody – friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands, wives, kids. I turned my head and stared down at the empty seat beside me. There could have been a familiar butt taking up this space, I thought. But noooo, not this time. I dumped my bag on it. Tonight, DKNY gets the privilege.

And then the movie began. Now, I don’t mean to mask a movie review in this blog entry but I have to say my piece on this film. Written and directed by several big names and boasting an even bigger cast, New York I Love You is surprisingly, humbly indie. The film strings together several love stories set in the world’s most well-loved Cosmopolitan city. While the movie’s striking concept seemingly tells of love occurrences happening at every corner of New York, to me it suggests an even deeper worth to the sincerely-produced film – that a simple, universal entity like ‘love’ sacredly exists in so many different forms: in admiration, in fate, in hesitance, in denial, in comfort, in confidence, in stimulation, in fatigue, in solitude, in faith. And that the film took every chance to romanticize The Big Apple, such that we all nod our heads in agreement with the city’s insane concoction of dreams and reality, division and cohesion, wholeness and erraticism.

I was captivated, for what seemed like eternity. And when the credits started rolling, I leaned my head back on the seat and closed my eyes. My limbs felt heavy. Suddenly I wished I hadn’t watched the movie alone. I couldn’t make out the emptiness that I was feeling, and the strangely writhing pain in my heart. I wasn’t sure if it was the movie, or the fact that I was abruptly, unanticipatedly aware of my own solitude, there and then, submerged in the pool of love.

Would I do this again? Absolutely.