Chapter Four of Four
Chapter Four: On Choosing the Flick
The rental shop offered a few hundred titles and still caused arguments. The modern catalogue offers thousands. How does a household choose, and enjoy choosing?
Most of us know the scene. The nest is ready, the bowl is full, and the household spends forty minutes scrolling through rows of thumbnails, rejecting each in turn, until someone suggests rewatching an old favourite simply because it ends the discussion. The psychologist Barry Schwartz called this "the paradox of choice": beyond a certain point, more options make decisions harder and leave us less satisfied with what we pick.1 The home movie night, once constrained by what the local shop had in stock, now suffers from the opposite problem.
What the film societies knew
It helps to remember that people have chosen films together, deliberately, for a hundred years. The Film Society in London, founded in 1925, screened works that ordinary cinemas would not show and treated choosing as a matter of shared curiosity.2 In Paris, Henri Langlois co-founded the Cinémathèque française in 1936 and became famous for programmes that placed films side by side in unexpected combinations, convinced that one picture could illuminate another.3
These institutions offer two lessons for the living room. First, someone has to programme. A night with a chosen film feels different from a night with a film arrived at by exhaustion. Second, films are richer in company with one another. A season, even a modest one of three Friday evenings, turns isolated choices into a conversation.
A night with a chosen film feels different from a night with a film arrived at by exhaustion.
Listening to the critics, and to each other
Critics have long served as guides through abundance. Pauline Kael's collection I Lost It at the Movies, published in 1965, taught a generation to argue passionately about films.4 Roger Ebert, in a 2005 speech, described the movies as "a machine that generates empathy", a phrase that speaks directly to why we watch together at all.5 And the Sight and Sound critics' poll, held once a decade since 1952, offers a ready-made syllabus for anyone who wants to work through the canon.6
But a household is not a critics' poll. A good home programme considers the youngest viewer and the most tired one, the person who dislikes subtitles and the one who longs for them. Social tools such as Letterboxd, launched in 2011, let families keep shared lists and diaries, which can turn last year's disagreements into this year's shortlist.

