MOVIES MATTER MORE THAN EVER
New Jersey’s boom in production will be bittersweet if all our local cinemas close. A case for getting off the couch and going to see a film on the big screen.
Written by Angela Matusik, Editor in Chief, Socko!
New Jersey’s boom in production will be bittersweet if all our local cinemas close. A case for getting off the couch and going to see a film on the big screen.
Written by Angela Matusik, Editor in Chief, Socko!
It would not be an exaggeration to say that some of the happiest moments of my life have been sitting in the dark surrounded by strangers. I’m not dismissing the big milestones that I’ve experienced and am anticipating (the day my husband proposed, our wedding, the birth of our child, and the moment coming up in June when that kid graduates from high school). No. Those mean more than I can articulate here.
But when I think about the moments when I have felt the most alive, when I have felt the power of a story burning through me, socking me in the gut, raising goosebumps on my arms, and, frequently, causing tears to stream down my face, I am sitting in a movie theater.
And, when I think about the moments in life when I have felt most connected to my fellow humans, when we are collectively sharing an experience—gasping, laughing, jumping in unison, stumbling out into the bright lights of a lobby feeling dazed and stuttering for words—it is in a movie theater.
Let me give you an example.
Right out of college, I was an intern who somehow talked her way into working as an assistant at the Cannes Film Festival. One day after running countless menial errands, I was allowed to attend a screening in the Grand Palais. I put on my made-by-hand gown and marched up those big red carpet–draped steps to sit down, shoulder-to-shoulder, with some of the most beautiful, well-dressed, impressive-looking people I’ve ever seen. The film was David Lynch’s Wild at Heart, which went on to when the Palm d’or prize that year. There’s a moment when—forgive the spoiler here—Willem Dafoe’s skull splatters on the ground after a loud rifle shot. All 2,300 of us in that ginormous theater recoiled in unison. Some fled. I sat there with the biggest grin on my face thinking, This is life!
Right out of college, I was an intern who somehow talked her way into working as an assistant at the Cannes Film Festival. One day after running countless menial errands, I was allowed to attend a screening in the Grand Palais. I put on my made-by-hand gown and marched up those big red carpet–draped steps to sit down, shoulder-to-shoulder, with some of the most beautiful, well-dressed, impressive-looking people I’ve ever seen. The film was David Lynch’s Wild at Heart, which went on to when the Palm d’or prize that year. There’s a moment when—forgive the spoiler here—Willem Dafoe’s skull splatters on the ground after a loud rifle shot. All 2,300 of us in that ginormous theater recoiled in unison. Some fled. I sat there with the biggest grin on my face thinking, This is life!
That experience was rivaled last May, when the nonprofit I co-founded with my friend Lisa Cohen, the Maplewood Film Society, hosted a screening of Wild at Heart in our town’s beautiful historic venue, the Woodland. That night, 250 of us sat on folding chairs watching the film projected from a Blu-ray disc on a pop-up screen and cheered with glee at the exact same head-smashing moment. It was joyous, and I have never loved my town more.
We organized the evening to celebrate the beloved director David Lynch, and we made the most out of our non-cinematic venue. We had to, because our town’s movie theater has been closed since 2020. The Maplewood Film Society has spent the past two years advocating for in-person movies in our community and organizing film events. And guess what? Our events always sell out.
That’s because people are hungry for communal experiences. We need it more than ever as our nation’s politics and media are focused on what divides us rather than what bonds us. That’s where movies come in. Not to get all Nicole Kidman on you, but stories are what connect us and make us human, and they have been doing so since our cave-dwelling days.
We organized the evening to celebrate the beloved director David Lynch, and we made the most out of our non-cinematic venue. We had to, because our town’s movie theater has been closed since 2020. The Maplewood Film Society has spent the past two years advocating for in-person movies in our community and organizing film events. And guess what? Our events always sell out.
That’s because people are hungry for communal experiences. We need it more than ever as our nation’s politics and media are focused on what divides us rather than what bonds us. That’s where movies come in. Not to get all Nicole Kidman on you, but stories are what connect us and make us human, and they have been doing so since our cave-dwelling days.
250 of us sat on folding chairs watching Wild at Heart projected from a Blu-ray disc on a pop-up screen… It was joyous. I have never loved my town more.”
But the business of showing movies to audiences is harder than ever, an ironic twist as the business of making movies seems to be on a boom (at least here in New Jersey). There are bright spots, for sure. I went to a screening of Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love on a cold February day and the theater was packed (thanks to the resourceful Gerard Amsellem and his La Cinémathèque Film Club). New Jersey film festivals like Montclair and Lighthouse are attracting international premieres and filling venues for 10 straight days. And—the happiest news of all—our Maplewood Movie Theater has found a new cinematic tenant after being on the market for way too long. Box Office Cinemas, an indie-run shop, is currently renovating it and is planning to open it in early 2027.
So as much as we celebrate, support, and spotlight both New Jersey’s historic and its about-to-explode film production business, we also must celebrate film itself, films meant to be watched together in movie theaters in our local communities. They need your support. Your neighbors will be happy to see you there. I know I will.
Say hi before the lights go down.
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This story appeared in the inaugural issue of Socko! Magazine [May, 2026]. Click here to subscribe
