A Night at the Metrograph
In the New York City independent movie theater scene, there are those special establishments that distinguish themselves as the best of the best. These places are meeting grounds of all kinds: solo film critics, disgruntled matinee-watching 80-year-olds, and awkward first Hinge dates. But for the pretentious, one theater stands out beyond all the rest: the Metrograph. Located on the Lower East Side, this theater is where all cinephiles go to die.
So, you just finished eating at Le Dive, and you’re wondering how to fill the rest of your night. What better choice than to walk over to the Metrograph? Not even a minute later, you’re standing outside the theater’s brick facade. Approaching the building, you may see clusters of moviegoers loitering outside. They may look like the average individual, but to the trained eye, these people are something far different: the Cinephile.
Do not fear, dear reader. As a secret agent who has covertly integrated herself into their community, I can provide you with the telltale signs to spot a Cinephile.
The attuned nose can sniff one out before you even see them. Beyond the ominous plume of smoke rising from the premises, the smell of American Spirit Blues is the smoking gun of Cinephile presence. As they stuff their almost-empty cigarette pack into their Criterion Collection tote bag, you will be able to sneak a closer look at a familiar cast of characters. There’s a man with a porn stache and mullet. Next to him is a girl with a septum piercing and a Sofia Coppola baby tee to match her baby bangs. There’s another guy who looks uncannily like Sombr and whose dad is probably a producer.
You might even overhear their conversations: “I just find Travis Bickle really relatable in our contemporary media landscape,” or “I’m trying to expand my physical media collection,” or “Oh yeah, I graduated from Tisch Film & TV back in 2018.” But beware, if a man starts talking to you about Paul Thomas Anderson, disengage at all costs. He’s just one conversation away from making you his manic pixie dream girl.
He loves Ingmar Bergman, and he’s ready to emotionally manipulate you.
If you manage to sneak past these individuals without inhaling any second-hand smoke, you will find yourself in the lobby of the Metrograph. If you weren’t so full already, you could splurge on the $23 “Metrograph Burger.” For now, treat yourself to their pre-packaged popcorn and make sure to uncomfortably settle in your screening of Possession / Chungking Express / Blue Velvet.
It’s going to be a long two hours. There is no escape. You are cornered by Cinephiles on all sides. Lucky for you, this is prime people-watching entertainment. It’s time to enjoy the show, and I don’t mean the movie. The man in front of you will leave the theater seven times, coming back each time with a new beer in his hand. The person next to you will check the time on their phone every five minutes. You’re in for a special treat if a couple is sitting behind you. At least you can only hear them, not see them. If you’re not having any fun yet, your fellow audience members sure will. Trust me. They will be boisterous with laughter, even if it's not funny. As the end credits roll, make sure to clap and take a picture of the title card. It's a foolproof way to impress the other Cinephiles.
This was all based on a true story. My credentials:
For an extra treat, pop onto Letterboxd after the screening to see the reviews roll in. You’ll notice that each account owner has at least 200 movies logged this year and pays for the $50 subscription tier. Listen closely to the crowd to hear terms such as mis-en-scène, diegesis, male gaze, and auteur theory.
There will be a quiz at the end
