By Jon Bishop, who is completing an MFA at the University of St. Thomas in Houston, studying both poetry and the Catholic intellectual tradition. His work has appeared in a variety of outlets, both print and online. A native of Massachuestts, he now lives in New Hampshire.

Worcester, Massachusetts, the second-largest city in New England, is undergoing something of a renaissance. Downtown has a professional theater and great places to eat. In a major coup a few years back, the city pulled what was then the Pawtucket Red Sox to town and built a state-of-the-art ballpark to house them. Worcester has several world-class colleges. An art museum. And despite its size, and despite some traffic buildup on Park Avenue and I-290 during the evening rush hour, the city never feels congested. I grew up in Massachusetts, went to college in Worcester, and I now live in nearby New Hampshire. Worcester’s transformation from a post-industrial, working-class town to a thriving city has been nothing short of impressive.

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You’d think, though, with all of these amenities, and with a population of over 200,000 residents, that the city would have a movie theater. It doesn’t.

It did—for a while. But Showcase North, the local multiplex, and West Boylston Cinema, the second-run theater just over the city limits in West Boylston, have both closed. And I mention this not to complain. Instead, I think Worcester’s lack of a theater is indicative of a profound cultural decline, one that is affecting the entire country. It is the endpoint of our retreat from having a common culture. And it’s something that doesn’t bode well for our future.

I can already hear the responses. I’m sure my imagined interlocutors are saying something like this: “Movies are still around. You can find them on Netflix or Hulu or Amazon. And the closure of some movie theaters doesn’t bode well? They were getting expensive, for one. And I hope you’re not implying that a lack of a movie theater means we’ll descend into civil war or something.”

Here’s why the decline of film is concerning. Film is an American art form. It was perfected in the United States, and many of the greatest films ever made are American. There is a reason other countries with burgeoning film industries are given Hollywood-like names. Consider “Bollywood” in India and “Nollywood” in Nigeria. The world recognizes the achievements of our directors.

But since the streaming era, our films, once art, have been reduced to mere “content.” Good films are still produced, but they hardly get an audience. And they’re not advertised. I’ll note that Gia Coppola’s The Last Showgirl, featuring a revelatory Pamela Anderson, is a film I hadn’t heard of until a friend and coworker mentioned it. I hadn’t seen ads or trailers anywhere. This is anecdotal, of course, but we can imagine that if The Last Showgirl were released in, say, 2008 or 2010, it would have received a lot of attention, particularly because of its star. As evidence, consider the buzz The Wrestler received in 2008. It was Mickey Rourke’s “comeback performance.” And it was an art film that a lot of people saw. It earned $44.7 million at the box office on a budget of $6 million. The Last Showgirl earned $4.7 million on a budget of about $2 million.

What’s popular now? Franchise films, of course. They’ll always make money, even as they decline in quality. Consider 2023’s Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, which, according to Rotten Tomatoes, had a critical approval rating of 46%, indicating mixed reviews. It still earned $476.1 million at the box office. And you also have paint-by-numbers thrillers, romance, and unfunny comedies. Those have always existed, but streaming seems to have elevated them. And it’s turned them into something different than the traditional movie.

Along with the decline of the form itself, the collapse of moviegoing portends the continued collapse of our common culture. Going to the movies with family and friends and then talking about what you saw, perhaps over a meal, after the film was something a lot of people once enjoyed doing. And it was an activity that was truly democratic, as it was something the rich and the poor could do equally. And popular films also led to water cooler conversations. It doesn’t help that popular films are pulled quickly by the studios and aren’t given a chance to breathe. I remember when My Big Fat Greek Wedding was in theaters in 2002. It was seemingly there for an entire year. And everyone was talking about it.

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Is that the case now? Are we even all watching the same things? I’ve found that even somewhat popular and acclaimed films aren’t seen by a lot of people. It suggests that most of us won’t see a film in theaters, will wait for it to debut on a streaming service, and then we’ll watch it in installments, likely alone. This turns what was once a group activity—and again, a democratic one that was a major part of our common culture—into a passive, individual activity. In fact, you can see how going to the movies has changed by doing a simple comparison. In 2008, say, you’d invite a few friends to see a movie, you’d meet up, and then you’d grab dinner and drinks afterwards. All along the way, you’re interacting with theater staff, waiters at restaurants, and you’re providing life and energy to the community in which you live. Now, in 2025? You watch the movie on your couch. You have your food delivered—likely without even speaking to the driver. And you bring your food inside and eat. Then you pause the movie when you remember you have some emails to send. You’ll potentially resume it tomorrow.

I recognize I’m saying nothing new here, but it’s nonetheless concerning, and it should be concerning for anyone who cares about the health of our common culture. We’re divided as a country because we have nothing to unite us anymore. Most people don’t spend time reading our founding documents. That wasn’t what united us as Americans. Instead, it was our experiences, which could be shared with someone from Maine as equally as with someone from Colorado. It seems like a small thing, but perhaps a revival of common life in the United States might mean investing in movie theaters. They don’t have to be big multiplexes. A small community theater with a few screens would suffice. Place it in the downtown of your community and encourage restaurants to open around it.

What happens if we let our theaters die, if we let the movie business continue to become mere “content?” Again, it’s one component of downtown life, but if we don’t encourage them to open and flourish—as bookstores have once again—then our retreat indoors will likely continue unabated. Forget Worcester, and other smaller communities throughout our nation, even large cities like Boston are in danger of falling into the dreaded urban “doom loop.” It’s a real possibility that this could happen. And Boston wouldn’t be the only metropolis to do so.

So to save our common culture and the health of our communities, let’s consider grabbing a bunch of friends, grabbing drinks and dinner, and going out to the movies.

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To Save Our Cities, Let’s Go to the Movies