Going Somewhere

It was a cool September night, and the sun had begun to set, triggering the lights to illuminate the familiar marquee of the Heights Theater. At this time, Covid-19 had held its grip on the world for about 7 months. We were getting used to the necessary changes in our collective lives, but needless to say, we missed the sense of community and normality of pre-Covid days, as well as the things we took for granted.

Like the Trylon, the Heights Theater has always been a haven for those of us longing for a temporary portal to the past. If any such thing could exist, it would be in the form of a theater. The glowing neon towers overhead, a beacon against a pale sky, as a hundred twinkling globes bathe you in a wash of warm, golden light, instantly transporting you to a different time. After months of trying in vain to recreate the moviegoing experience at home with dim lighting and Pop Secret, my first step back into a theater to see Hitchcock’s Vertigo was all the more meaningful. It was like seeing an old friend after a long time apart. You don’t always realize how much you’ve missed them until you turn the corner and make out their figure waiting for you in the distance. The heart swell, the sudden smile, the flood of amber-tone memories—it was all there.

As a matter of fact, I had somehow never seen Vertigo, but I imagine there are few better ways to fully experience one of Hitchcock’s most hypnotic films than on luminous 70mm film in such an extraordinary venue. Naturally, walking into a theater during a pandemic isn’t in most peoples’ comfort zone, but after reading their Covid policies and procedures, it seemed that the Heights was making a great effort to keep their staff and patrons safe. Faces masked, we headed off to support a theater that means so much to classic film lovers of Minnesota.

The evening itself was a bit surreal. After months of learning to accept the new reality that we’ve been forced to live in, the leisurely act of going to the movies felt suspiciously normal. It may be an understatement to say that 2020 has induced a figurative sense of vertigo in a lot of us. This year, it’s been hard not to feel disoriented and nauseous considering the turbulent state of the world, and all too easy to feel “pulled into the darkness,” as Madeleine describes her haunting dreams in the film. At times, 2020 has felt like just that—a bad dream that leaves you feeling sick and anxious even after you’ve woken up. It’s likely that many of us will be haunted by events of the past year.

While sometimes it may not feel like there’s much to redeem, as 2020 comes to an end, there is a bit of hope on the horizon. If recent events have taught us anything, it is the importance of unity and human connection. In its absence, a dark loneliness makes its way in, and in this solitude, it can seem as if we’re wandering aimlessly, going nowhere in particular. But as Madeleine reminds Scottie, “Only one is a wanderer. Two together are always going somewhere.” Going, perhaps, to the movies.