Every year, people prophesy the doom of the movie theater; every year, a film is trotted out as the savior of cinema, a hero for the church of movies. This year, as box office struggles to return to normal in the time of the COVID-19 pandemic, that champion has been proclaimed as Denis Villeneuve's Dune.

The director sparked this controversy all over again, as have many film critics, by insisting that the only way to see the epic Herbert adaptation is on the biggest screen possible, despite being released simultaneously on the HBO Max streaming service. Having seen it on the biggest screen possible, I'd admit that Villeneuve and cinema purists have a point. It's beautiful and bombastic, with detail in every pixel of every frame. On the other hand, I've gone on to watch Dune repeatedly at home since then, and those advocating for movies to be released everywhere immediately might have a point, too.

So, which is it? When an artist like Villeneuve says get your ass to the movie theatre to see a film like Dune, is it mandatory? Should you feel bad for watching the film from your couch?

I don't think there's an easy answer to the question. And I truly think the answer is going to be different for everyone.

Personally, it's my view that we should watch all movies in the cinema. I don't think a film needs to have the spectacle of Dune to require the reverence of a darkened auditorium, silver screen and excellent sound system. Of course every movie benefits from this treatment. Going to the movies is a ceremony akin to religious services. You enter with your head bowed and sit quietly in the dark, expecting a sermon that you hope will change your life. The more opulent the palace of cinema and the larger the screen, the more awe the film can strike you with. Sure, crowds can be rude and disrespectful, and you might have to shush that kid in the fifth row and call out that asshole who pulls out their phone to check for a text message. But if you can focus there, there's no better place to do it.

I have a harder time giving a film the attention it deserves at home. While I'll watch plenty of movies on the small screen for the first time, it's mostly because that's the only way possible. But in the movie theater, there is no impulse to pull out my phone or answer that text or pause the movie to go to the bathroom. I'm there in church, at rapt attention from start to finish.

Others I've talked to hate going to movie theaters. They're too fidgety for the experience, and they don't like it. They don't need that experience, and don't want it. They'd rather feel more comfortable at home and not bother anyone else. People are awful and some of them are carrying disease, so maybe they have a point, too.

Is it a matter of privilege to say, "Suck it up and see it in the movie theater?" Because maybe the economics don't make, sense since it's cheaper to get HBO Max than a babysitter. Maybe it's a matter of focus. Maybe it's a matter of physical accessibility, or social anxiety.

You need to pick the experience that will allow you to give the film in question the attention it deserves. Yes, you can enjoy Dune on your phone. Sure, you might miss some of the rich detail in the imagery. But if you're going to watch it on a screen exponentially larger, yet only pay it half the attention because of your particular distractions, you'll likely miss even more. Who's to say that's a worse or less valid experience?

Not me.

I'm a big believer in the idea that you should see movies in the biggest format possible, and one of the considerations that defines "possible" are all of your own idiosyncrasies. If your tablet in bed helps you focus on the details of the movie better than the IMAX screen at Jordan Commons, more power to you.

As for me, you'll find me at the movies, worshiping at the altar of the best sound and picture quality I can find, phone set firmly on silent, and with nothing in the world that could distract me. We'll both watch the movie in a way that makes the most sense for us—and then afterward, we can talk about it together just the same, regardless of our method of viewing.

Amen.