A man sitting two seats away from me at the West Newton Cinema is sobbing, again.

His long gray beard flows in convulsing waves to his shoulders. He, like me, is sitting alone here in this art deco-style theater not far from Boston. We are now in the third hour of the director’s cut of Giuseppe Tornatore’s 1988 Italian-language masterpiece, “Cinema Paradiso.”

The narrow upholstered seats are a bit uncomfortable. Mine tilts left slightly. They are nothing like the cushy stadium seats in chain theaters, which can serve as a buffer from interacting with strangers.

Why We Wrote This

Old-time community movie theaters have endured decades of challenges. Now, they may be one of the last bastions of affordable, joyful, civic engagement – even if you go alone.

Why are we here? Maybe it’s nosta

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