Shining Light on Watching in Dark

Some of my best memories are of things that happened in the dark. I fell in love; I had my heart broken; I made friends and mourned loss.

People say I am not discriminating enough about the movies I see. It’s true that I find something to like about almost anything I see. But I don’t take many $6 bets, either.

Going to the movies is too expensive to take risks with, so I stack the deck by doing my homework. I have never stood in front of a marquee wondering what something was about or making a selection based on what starts next.

I’m seldom disappointed. I don’t generally go to movies I don’t think I’m going to like; for example, I seldom (never say never) see a movie in which things blow up. But I often go even though I know I won’t enjoy myself: You couldn’t have a good time at “Schindler’s List,” but you missed a heck of a movie if you didn’t see it.

I don’t always read reviews because I like to be surprised, but I do scan the headlines and first couple of paragraphs of a story to get an idea of what the movie is about and what the reviewer thought. I also know which writers generally reflect my tastes.

It’s an ongoing process to become familiar with and stay abreast of the opinions of those you can trust; this also applies to the suggestions of friends, relatives and colleagues. If someone says, “You’ve got to see ‘Your Friends and Neighbors’; I loved it,’ ” it had better be because they know you also like arch, cynical, bitter black comedies that are all talk. Because if you take that recommendation, and your favorite movie is “Titanic,” at least one of you is going to regret it.

Besides knowing whose opinions to trust, I know the players who have a good track record with me. There are certain directors (Martin Scorsese, John Sayles) whose movies I won’t miss, actors (Emma Thompson) I’ll see in almost any role, even a couple of screenwriters (David Mamet, Neil LaBute) whose past work has appealed to me enough to make me want to see what they’re up to now.

And if one of these favorites doesn’t deliver, I don’t necessarily cut them off. Almost all of my regular actors and directors have made a choice they regretted; few are habitual about it. After a pattern of abuse of my time, then I start crossing names off my list.

If I’m bored or unhappy with how a movie is progressing, I nevertheless try to find something redemptive. Maybe I think one minor actress (Natalie Portman in “Beautiful Girls,” for example) is a comer to watch. Perhaps I hear one memorable line; “Our pets’ heads are falling off,” from “Dumb & Dumber,” still makes me laugh five years later.

If nothing else, when I’ve seen a movie I thought was no good, I can cut my losses by deciding why I didn’t like it. That way, whether it was an actor or a topic or a camera technique, I’ll know to avoid it in the future.

With the price of moviegoing continuing to escalate, a loyal moviegoer can’t afford to make careless choices. And even the casual ones can’t be too discriminating. After all, what happens in the dark shouldn’t hurt.