Movie Nights

One thing I discovered about myself in 2020, during lockdown, is...

..that while I always thought I wasn’t a collector of anything, it turns out I am a collector of movies. It surfaced during those long stretches of online chats when everyone was looking for things to do with their families while stuck at home.

At some point I mentioned that I had a fairly extensive categorised list of films we had watched over the years, and before I knew it I was sharing that list with friends or even online groups who were trying to entertain multi-generational households under one roof.

For me, Friday night movie night had been far more intentional than perhaps other families experienced. With my husband working away and only home every two to three weeks, the girls and I had long stretches of it just being us. When they were little, Friday nights meant Disney and popcorn and all the usual favourites. But as they grew older, I became much more discerning about what I put in front of them.

We absolutely watched plenty of fun, light entertainment (Secondhand Lions; The 100 Foot Journey; Men in Black; Pirates of the Caribbean, being favourites). But in between those, I deliberately positioned more thoughtful films — stories rooted in history, resilience, context, and real human experience.

Seven Years in Tibet opened conversations about the Dalai Lama and the Himalayas.

The Pursuit of Happyness gave us a lens into perseverance and fatherhood.

Breathe (2017), about Robin Cavendish and the impact of polio, sparked long discussions afterwards.

The Man Who Knew Infinity introduced Ramanujan and mathematics in a way school never quite does.

A United Kingdom brought history, love and courage into the lounge.

These were not heavy-handed “lessons”, but they did invite reflection. Often we would read up afterwards, or chat, or simply sit with what we had watched. I realised that this rhythm quietly built general knowledge and, perhaps more importantly, helped the girls learn to engage with what they were watching instead of just consuming it.

I do remember one of their friends joining us for Breathe. Afterwards she said, slightly wide-eyed, “I think I’m traumatised.” They weren’t used to that kind of fare at home. But my girls took it in their stride. They were comfortable engaging with harder themes, different contexts, bigger ideas.

These days it’s more complicated. They’re young adults now, with their own lives, and streaming services mean everyone can watch whatever they like, whenever they like. But I still occasionally round them up and announce, “Right, it’s family movie night.” Pizzas go in the oven; popcorn gets made; blankets unrolled, and we sit together again.

I still add to my list app when I come across something worthwhile. It seems I am, after all, a collector, and I still share my collection with anyone who wants to the same joy we had.