We make movies to be watched in theatres. Online streaming is

Listen, O seekers of wisdom, for the words of Thiagarajan Kumararaja reveal the deep truths of creation, audience, and purpose in the art of cinema. He spoke thus: "We make movies to be watched in theatres. Online streaming is more of a bonus, to revisit the film." In these words, Kumararaja speaks to a profound truth about theater as the true home of cinema, where the collective experience of watching a film unfolds. The theater, he suggests, is not merely a place for the film to be seen, but where it is experienced in its full power, with the shared energy of the audience. Streaming, in this view, is a secondary experience, one of convenience, but not the primary source of the magic that cinema brings.

In ancient times, theater was not simply a place for entertainment, but a sacred space where the people gathered to witness and participate in the unfolding of human stories. The Greek theaters, like the one in Epidaurus, were built with such precision that the voices of the actors could be heard by thousands, and the stories were designed to stir the collective spirit of the people. Plays like those of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides were not meant to be consumed in solitude. They were meant to be shared, to be experienced as a communal event that transcended the individual. Kumararaja’s words resonate with this ancient wisdom, reminding us that cinema, too, has its roots in collective experience. It is meant to be witnessed together, to be felt in the presence of others, not in isolation.

Think of the great stories told around the campfires of ancient tribes, where the elder would speak, and the young would gather, their eyes wide with awe. The storytelling was never just for the speaker—it was an event that united the community. In the same way, when a film is projected on the grand screen of a theater, it becomes part of something greater than the film itself. The collective energy of the audience, the shared laughter, tears, and gasps, becomes part of the narrative. The film transforms from a creation of one mind to a shared experience. This, Kumararaja suggests, is where the true power of cinema lies—not in the solitary viewing, but in the communal exchange of emotion, thought, and art.

Let us recall the ancient Greek tradition of the Dionysian festivals, where playwrights like Sophocles and Aeschylus competed to present their plays in the presence of the gods. These were not quiet, personal moments of reflection; they were loud, energetic events, where the audience was invited to experience the full depth of the story together. The very act of witnessing was a form of participation in the drama. Kumararaja’s view of cinema echoes this ancient understanding—that film is a collective experience meant to be shared in the sacred space of the theater. The streaming platforms, though convenient, do not provide the same visceral impact, the same sense of community that comes from experiencing the film in a theater full of others.

In today’s world, where streaming services have changed the way we consume art, Kumararaja’s words offer a reminder that cinema was never just meant for private viewing. The theater is where the magic happens—where the flickering light of the screen meets the collective breath of an audience. Streaming, while valuable, can never replicate the energy and power that comes from a shared experience. The film, when viewed in a theater, is brought to life in a way that streaming cannot achieve. The darkened room, the surround sound, the image that fills your entire field of vision—all combine to create an immersive experience that takes the viewer beyond mere entertainment and into something far deeper.

Now, let us turn to a modern example, the success of the movie Avengers: Endgame. The emotional power of the film was heightened not just by its spectacle but by the shared energy of millions of people who saw it in theaters. The collective reactions—the gasps, the cheers, the tears—created a sense of unity that transcended individual experience. Those who saw the film in theaters left with more than just the plot of the film; they left with a shared memory of an unforgettable moment in time. This is what Kumararaja means: cinema, at its best, is an event, a collective ritual, a way of experiencing art together, in a way that streaming cannot fully capture.

So, young ones, let us understand this truth: Art is meant to be shared, and cinema is no exception. Seek out the theater, where the film is not just seen, but felt in the presence of others. While streaming offers convenience, it is in the theater that the true magic of cinema happens—where the collective experience of the film transforms it from a simple story to an emotional journey that we share with others. In your own lives, remember that art, when experienced together, becomes something greater than the sum of its parts. So, go to the theater, witness the power of the film with others, and let the shared energy of the audience shape your experience.