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Screen it again, Sam: Multiple viewings at the multiplex

How was your Tron Day? Mine was swell.

April 5 was the release of Tron: Legacy on video. And since seeing the movie in theaters last December, I’ve been telling my fiancee, “I’m buying the shit out of that Blu-ray.” And so I did. The movie looked great, and Daft Punk’s soundtrack had been blip-beep-bumping in my car for months. But it was the fact that when it was out in theaters, I’d wanted to see it again, but missed it.

I wanted to see Tron: Legacy again in the theater. That’s a rarity for me. I don’t go see a movie at the movies more than once.

It’s tough enough getting out to the movies, with the busy schedules and getting in the car and all that. Who knew that such a childhood joy would be a total hassle as an adult? And the paying-for-it park doesn’t help, either. I’m 30, and I feel like a grumpy old man when I remember how going to the movies used to cost $3.75.

But every once in a while, I’ve gone to see a movie multiple times. I literally can count them on one hand.

Star Trek (2009)
The new one, not the old one where they hunt down the Voyager satellite. (In 2011, you can’t even explain that to kids now. “See, it was a satellite we launched back in 1976 that we don’t even use any more. Brilliant, yeah? Totally Harlan Ellison.”) I ended up seeing this one three dang times. It just was that good. It took every complaint people had about Star Trek and dunkfaced ’em with rock ‘n’ roll, action and sex appeal.

The first time I saw it with a cinephile friend. I was blown away by film’s biggest resonant message (and tag line): The future starts now. We’re living in those future years (according to Back to the Future Part II, we’re four years away from Hoverboards), with the first true 21st-century president. Of course, in the Star Trek world none of the shiny Trek stuff didn’t show up until after environmental and financial ruin, and World War III. We have the Birthers, so I guess we’re close.

I had to see it again. No, I mean, I had to, since I had to take my girlfriend, who’s a reformed Trekker. She used to attend conventions in her formative youth, ate lunch with George Takei once, and had a crush on Wil Wheaton. Plus I wanted to see it on IMAX. Just as awesome an experience again. And that girlfriend – now my fiancee – cries every time Kirk’s dad sacrifices himself at the beginning and makes all the old-head Trekkers slap their heads in retcon disbelief.

And the final time I saw it with the same cinephile friend I saw it with the first time. We’d decided to spend a night in New York, and we ended up at the legendary Ziegfeld Theater. What a place, resplendent in art deco glamour! We sat in plush seats in that giant room with fabulous sound. There’s nothing like seeing a movie in a beautiful theater.

The Dark Knight (2008)
This was the summer of a million movies. I saw Iron Man, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (at the drive-in!), Speed Racer, Sex and the City, Hellboy II, Pineapple Express, Tropic Thunder. And I saw The Dark Knight three times.

Ohhhhh, I’d been waiting for this one. Batman’s my favorite, and anticipation for this movie had reached fever pitch everywhere for Heath Ledger’s Joker to emerge.

I first saw it with the girlfriend and a high school friend at a rinky-dink theater on the boardwalk in Wildwood, New Jersey. God knows what had been matted into the floors after decades of shoregoers, as you walked down a dark hallway into a closet of a theater, the screen so small that the light from the exit sign shone on it. But I didn’t care.

The movie was great regardless of the movie house: Christian Bale growl-talking on the edge of incomprehensible, Heath Ledger all terrifying, lisping and limping menace, and Aaron Eckhart yelling “Rachel!” like a nutbar. My girlfriend kept freaking out whenever the Joker music starting screeching, and she slapped my leg in excitement when the gasoline poured down half of Harvey’s face.

The next two times were good, too, another time by myself at the IMAX theater, and then again with a college friend while I was on business in Chicago. Every time the Joker showed up, she kept covering her eyes in terror. And there was nothing like seeing the movie in the city that doubled as Gotham, where the Batpod flipped an 18-wheeler on the city streets not too far from where I was watching the movie now.

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids (1989)
See, I told you this was a rare thing. I saw this twice in the summer of ’89. I got my first real six-string, bought it at the five-and-dime. Sad thing is, I can’t remember the details of seeing it the first time, but I remember the sweet special effects, kids riding around on a bee, and the little dude from Ghostbusters and those SCTV episodes on Nick At Nite.

But the second time? Oh, I remember that hell.

This summer my parents decided to send my brother and me to day camp at the Salvation Army down the street. Looked like fun; new kids to play with, hot breakfasts, games and activities. Only the kids were rowdy, the food sucked, the games were few (they did have a Popeye arcade game), and the counselors were dictators who yelled at everyone.
One time the kids were in trouble, and they made us put our heads down on the dining hall tables with our hands folded as he tapped us with a bat to take a snack and go outside to play. My brother and I endured this a few weeks until the one time my mom came to pick us up, saw the conditions, and pulled us out of there permanently.

But before that happened, they took us to the movies. Yay, the movies! Fun times ahead, right? No.

We were all excited to see Honey, I Shrunk The Kids, all the kids had their money, everything. We’re ready to go! And off we went, without any cars to give us a ride. They made us walk two miles in July heat to the theater. Two miles. (I’m not kidding, here’s the route.) The tiny thing of soda I could afford wasn’t even close to enough for quenching the desert in my mouth, but the air conditioning was boss. I haven’t watched Honey, I Shrunk The Kids ever since.

And that’s it. No more multiple viewings. I even missed taking some girl to Titanic seven times, but then I was pretty dateless at the time. The only other movie that came close was Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring once in the theater, and then seeing the extended version when it was released in the theater for a short time. Doesn’t really count.

But I cried just the same after Gandalf fell into the pit fighting the balrog, and the camera panned to little Pippin the Hobbit curled up in a ball and crying his tiny heart out. Now it’s time to go get zapped into the Grid. My lightcycle is waiting.
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