Filmspotting Fest is a real thing—people will go, and some will have genuinely moving experiences in those Chicago theaters.
But read the actual pitch: "We wanted to make sure you knew about this incredible event"—not the incredible films, just the event itself.
The structure reveals the real transaction. Repertory screening—old, canonical films available for free or cheap on streaming—becomes an excuse to sell tickets to a physical space where strangers sit together.
This isn't new, but what's changed is the transparency of it. The festival doesn't pretend you're coming for the Godards and Kurosawas (though they might screen those)—you're coming for the experience, the social proof, the story you'll tell about having been there. The communal aspect used to be a side effect of cinema.
The festival doesn't exist to show you films you couldn't see elsewhere—it exists to collect you in one room so the experience itself can be monetized and verified.
What breaks if this keeps going? The distinction between a film festival and a networking event for people who think they're above networking events eventually collapses.
Pick a film you've been meaning to see—anything—and watch it by yourself, at home, without telling anyone. Then decide if you'd pay $75 to watch it in a theater full of strangers and have a discussion about your feelings afterward. That gap is the real story.