Voyage in Italy

Tonight I went to see Celsius 41.11, the documentary I wanted to see yesterday. It is about 7 PM. Prime time for movie theater and the gigantic room has a grand total of 4 people in it. Including myself. The difference from the crowds of Fahrenheit 911 is striking. I'm actually happy to find so few people. I am always hoping to have the theater entirely to myself. So far, I have succeeded in that feat only once: It was in Paris for a 11:50 AM showing of an old American movie starring Ingrid Bergman. It turned out to be a terribly bad movie, the probable explanation of the small number of people in the audience. But it didn't matter: being in a movie theater by oneself provides a distinct and quite perverse pleasure. The feel of owning the place, a false sense of familiarity with the theater and the secret feeling of belonging to the restricted club of true dedicated movie goers. Once I was by myself at the 9:30 PM show at the Bethesda Row Theater, a movie theater geared toward more independent movies. It was less than one minute before the start and a man walked in. He looked at me and just said "I'm sorry". I knew he knew. And I remember laughing and telling him it was quite alright.
If I had known that there would be only 3 other people at the 7 PM showing, I would have tried the latter show. Another "Voyage in Italy".