How we watch movies is almost as important as what we watch. Certain films, like Christopher Nolan’s massive “Interstellar,” demand to be seen in their most pristine format, ideally on a big screen. Other films, like Paul Thomas Anderson’s wooly, inscrutable “Inherent Vice,” should be seen with an audience —it’s just that kind of movie. The current climate also shrouds many of its bigger, more potentially profitable pictures in a veil of secrecy —all the better to whet the public’s fervent anticipation— while less established films, like the sublime French comedy “Tu Dors Nicole” seem to come from out of nowhere. The patterns of how we watch films are integral to the experience itself: many young people I know dread the idea of actually going to the movies (the hushed whispers of fellow moviegoers, the hassle of parking, the high cost of a ticket… all these things are a pain in the ass), whereas I can’t fathom watching a movie I am truly excited for on something as constricting as a...
