You wanted to love going to the movies again. Then you paid $18 for a ticket, sat down in a suspiciously sticky seat, and spent the next two hours trying to ignore the guy three rows back explaining the plot to his date. The theater wasn’t a temple of cinema. It was a waiting room with a $12 popcorn upcharge.
So when Cineplex CEO Ellis Jacob tells the world that Gen Z will come back because they’re “tired of looking at small screens,” he’s half right. We are tired of small screens. But not for the reason he thinks. We’re not tired of the size. We’re tired of watching alone in a room that feels like a cheap substitute for living. And when we do leave the house, we’re not going to hand over our freedom to a poorly managed multiplex.
Let’s be clear: The theater’s real moat was never the screen. It was the shared ritual of strangers leaning forward together in the dark. That’s what you can’t get at home. That’s why you tolerate the ticket price and the sticky floor. It’s the feeling of gasping at the same moment, laughing in the same beat, leaving the theater changed together. Without that, a screen is just a screen.
Cineplex’s logic sounds reasonable: smaller screens at home are less immersive, so bigger screens will win. But that logic has a hole. If big screens were the answer, premium large-format theaters would be breaking records while standard multiplexes died. Instead, the premium experience is also struggling to bring back young audiences. Meanwhile, what brings Gen Z out to a theater? Events. Concert films. Rereleases that don’t just show a movie but create a happening. The hold of “Barbenheimer” wasn’t about a big screen—it was about being part of a moment you had to witness with other people.
So the problem isn’t the couch, the phone, or the TV. The problem is the social contract. We show up willing to be transported, and we get a seat with Gummi Bear stuck to it, a never-ending scroll of fifteen ads, and an audience that treats the theater like their living room. You can’t offer “bigger” and expect us to forgive that.
This is where the take gets uncomfortable for the exhibition industry: You’re not competing with Netflix. You’re competing with the calm, control, and curation that we’ve built at home. On our own couches, we pick the movie, we pause for a pee break, and we can eject an annoying guest with a button. At the theater, we’re powerless. We can’t shush everyone. We can’t ask for an usher to handle the offender (there usually isn’t one). We pay for a premium product and get a lottery ticket for a good experience.
Here’s the part CEOs don’t want to hear: We aren’t tired of small screens; we’re tired of paying a premium to have a stranger’s glowing phone shatter the one moment we can’t rewind. The home screen is not the enemy. The broken promise is.
Look at the report: Gen Z is tired of small screens, says the man who heads a company that sells big screens. Of course he says that. But the comments that echo the story tell a different truth. People say, “Nope. The small screen at my home has better selection, cleaner seating, and anyone who won’t be quiet during the film gets ejected no questions asked.” That’s not people rejecting the world of cinema. That’s people rejecting a bad host.
And that’s why the solution is not more IMAX. It’s more responsibility. Enforce no-phone policies with actual consequences. Run the projector correctly. Deep-clean the floors. Price concessions like a human being. And most importantly, turn the movie into an event—a night out, a shared experience, a ritual that begins before the trailers and ends with strangers talking to each other in the lobby.
Gen Z will show up for that, because we crave it more than we admit. We’re sick of watching alone in our perfectly optimized rooms. We want to belong to a crowd. But we’re not going to pay to be treated disrespectfully. We deserve a social contract that says: “We’ll protect the magic if you’ll come share it.”
The theater used to be the place where you felt things together. That’s worth leaving the couch for. But until you’re willing to enforce the basic rules of the ritual, every screen is the wrong size.
FAQ
Q: Isn't the CEO right that Gen Z wants an immersive big-screen experience?
A: Partially. But if that were true, premium large formats would be booming at the expense of standard multiplexes. Instead, Gen Z shows up for events and shared cultural moments. The screen itself isn't the draw; the chance to experience something together is. A bigger screen without a better social contract is just a bigger excuse to feel disappointed.
Q: What's the practical implication for theater chains?
A: Stop spending billions on fancier seats and laser projectors. Spend it on culture and discipline: enforce phone-free screenings, clean up, offer programming that feels like a communal event. The formula is simple: protect the moment, and people will leave the house.
Q: Contrarian take: Is home viewing really that bad?
A: It's fantastic—which is exactly the problem for theaters. Home is a perfect, clean, curated theater that you control. To lure people out, exhibitors must offer what home can't: a shared experience worthy of the risk of awkward seating and $15 popcorn. If they don't, home wins.