Every so often a film comes along that reminds you why you sit in the dark with strangers. The Last Reel — about the final week of a dying single-screen theater and the projectionist who won’t leave — is that film, and I refuse to be cool about it.
“It earns every emotion it reaches for, which in this economy makes it practically a heist film.”
Marchetti shoots the projection booth like a cathedral and the popcorn counter like a confessional. When the carbon-arc lamp sputters in the final scene, you will hear an entire audience decide not to cry, and fail.
Let the record show I resisted. A movie about loving movies is critical flattery, a dog bringing you a stick and calling it journalism. I sat down fully prepared to be the only adult in the room.
“I have notes. I am choosing, for the first time this year, not to read them.”
The thumb is up. Matt saw it happen and has probably already ordered a commemorative plaque. Enjoy this, all of you, because the conditions that produced it will not recur in our lifetime.