Theatrical intermissions used to be key to enduring long films, and they should return with a vengeance. We’ve waited long enough.
Growing up watching Bollywood movies, it didn’t occur to me that intermissions could be optional. Going to a theatre meant watching a movie in two parts — whether it’s a Hollywood film or a Bollywood one. The first half is the first round of snacks (with my parents warning me that if I ate both popcorn and nachos in the first, I’d have to sit through the second half junk-food-less). The first half is where we get into the world of the film. When we grow in fondness of the characters and get invested in their plans and dreams. “She’s making all the wrong choices, but she’s so endearing!” or “Look I know that’s his dream job but it’s a hundred levels of shady.”
The closer you get to the halfway mark, the greater your curiosity grows— What is the turning point? What’s the Big Problem going to be? And right then, the storyline twists into a new direction, an anvil of drama dropping onto the protagonist’s lives. And the screen zooms out, stills, and reads: “Interval.”
A chance to return to the movie.
You know that feeling after a film? Where you’re filing out of the theatre all zombie-like, still stuck in the movie-world? That’s also the feeling you get when the intermission begins. Moments ago, you were the protagonist, struck with an insurmountable difficulty. Now, someone is nudging you to move so they can step out to buy some fries. Your little sister is asking you what the beef between Oppenheimer and Robert Downey Jr. is. Or your father is saying, “Did you know that Ken is the same guy from La La Land?” (Yes dad, I knew). Or your mother is telling you that you should be more sympathetic toward Regina George — after all, everyone has their issues. Suddenly, you go from being inside the movie to just someone watching it from afar.
And here’s the wonderful part. At the end of the film, you’re left out in the real world with no way of returning to the universe you were briefly invited into. But with intermissions, you get to return in just fifteen minutes. The fifteen minutes of returning into your own world gives you the time to put the pieces together. The plot points that sped past you? You can ask someone to clarify them. Is anyone else seeing just how gorgeous Anne Hathaway is? Time for your friends to confirm it’s not just you.
Intermissions allow a different way to experience film.
The point at which the movie breaks into the intermission is a way in which the movie can make itself more interesting. Consider watching a classic, like The Notebook, with an interval (Spoilers ahead!). Now, there are many places where one could place the intermission. They usually occur around the halfway mark, but this movie presents many compelling options right around that time. For instance, the film could pause right after Allie accepts Lon’s proposal. For the next fifteen minutes, you’re wondering what now? What happens to Noah if she ends up marrying Lon? When you return to the movie, you’re eager to find out where this leaves their love story, and are relieved when the film switches right back to Noah.
Or perhaps the curtains are briefly drawn right after Allie sees Noah’s ad in the paper. Just as she has her first glimpse of him in years, the film cuts you off. Now you’re imagining all sorts of possibilities, excited by the hope of their reunion. When you get back to the movie, you’re waiting to see how Allie reacts, and to see the depth of her love in that reaction. Each point of intermission shapes your viewing experience differently. It marks how you come to interpret the second part of the film — what you’re looking forward to, and what emotion you carry with you, whether that be worry, hope, or a blended assortment of feelings.
Used thoughtfully, intermissions are a powerful tool in the filmmaker’s arsenal.
In guiding what you think about in the absence of the movie, intermissions can guide how you think about it when the story marches on. Some intermissions even have ads in the interim, so as you watch one, betting with your sibling that this would be the last (of course, it never is), you eagerly anticipate what’s to come. Then, when you don’t expect it, the lights dim and the film whisks you back in, re-experiencing the magic of slipping out of your world and into this one.
Now you’re refreshed for the second part of the movie, and new plot points and information don’t feel tiring. You’re ready for the pace to quicken, for the plot to crescendo, to feel the highs and lows of emotion the first part set the stage for. Each half of the movie indicates something different for the audience. If the first half was sweet and funny, the second might up the drama. If the first half gave you a happy love story, the second may give you the “ever after.” Intervals add to the structure of a movie. They give you a hint of what to expect. And good movies deliver on their promises, or they confound your expectations entirely.
Intervals are an essential part of movie-watching.
They give you the time to collect your thoughts, to reflect, to get another round of popcorn and (as mundane as it is) to use the restroom without missing anything. Most of all, the intermission is the opportunity for the movie to welcome you back, not abandoning you to your real world all at once, and to chart out your experience of the rest of the film. And these are all valuable things to have in a movie, whether it is a 3-hour Bollywood picture or somewhat shorter Hollywood film. Give your audience a chance to miss your movie! And remind them that you’re within arm’s reach, returning with even more gusto in just a few minutes.
Featured image designed by Jon Negroni. Read more articles by Neha Nandakumar here.
Neha is pop culture enthusiast, philosophy student, and fiction writer based in Vancouver. These days, she’s either listening to Conan Gray or Linkin Park.
