This post was updated Sept. 18 at 3:26 p.m.

On the night of July 26, nearly 1,400 strangers and I experienced something none of us could have fathomed. We fought off legions of armies, escaped cursed islands and even survived a massive shipwreck. Foes were slain, lovers were wooed and honor was regained.

But the strangest thing about our night was that we never left Westwood. In fact, we never once got up from our plush velvet seats. That’s because we weren’t even in our own world – we were in that of Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey.”

Cinematic achievement and cultural moment aside, if you told me 10 years ago I would get the chance to see a film this impactful at the historic Fox Westwood Village Theatre, I wouldn’t have believed you.

Ever since I was a child, some of my fondest memories were movie nights with my parents. We’d dive into classics like “Jurassic Park” and “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,” or, sometimes, something new.

The laughter that filled the room when Hansel destroyed the computer in “Zoolander,” the tears that flowed during “Lion” and the screams that left our throats during “The Shining” were all shared experiences that not only brought me and my parents closer, but also strengthened my love for cinema. It was in those moments I learned cinema wasn’t just a mode of entertainment, but a vessel for bonding and personal growth.

Fast forward to my time at UCLA, the community I’ve built by going to the movies is one I never expected. Of course, there’s no talking during a film, but I learned there were still opportunities to build community in other ways. Having moved to Los Angeles from Boston, one of the first things I noticed was how the city ingrained entertainment into its culture.

Now, it feels safe to say I’ve become well acclimated to the city. I used to feel a connection to cinema because of what I learned through it and who I shared it with. But thanks to LA, cinema gave me a new sense of community – with my friends, family and new people I’ve met along the way.

Within my first week at UCLA, I discovered Bruin Film Society, a club that meets weekly to watch a film and discuss it afterward. As I walked alone into Royce Hall on a Wednesday night to watch the horror classic “Scream,” I found myself talking to students around me before the film started – and once it ended, as well. I expected to never see these kids again. But socializing with them at meetings soon became a staple in my weekly routine.

In fact, what surprised me most was the social element. What I thought was a way to decompress after a long day turned into bonding with other students who loved cinema as much as I did. Talking about our thoughts on the film while simultaneously getting to know my peers helped me find a community during my first year.

I was too timid to start talking to the people next to me, but starting the conversation proved to be an effective way to meet new people – even ones I never thought I shared anything in common with. As I discovered more moviegoing experiences in LA outside of BFS, I took that same outlook with me.

On the corner of Beverly Boulevard and La Brea Avenue sits a rather unassuming but influential part of LA film culture.

Owned by director Quentin Tarantino, the New Beverly Cinema screens a rotating schedule of film on 35mm, featuring classics spanning decades and occasionally showing prints from Tarantino’s personal collection.

When I walked into the old-school theater, I found myself surrounded by moviegoers more knowledgeable than I. The “New Bev” has a citywide reputation for attracting hardcore cinephiles. But I didn’t let that intimidate me. The palpable fervor and love for cinema felt as the lights begin to dim in the New Bev is a collective experience unlike any other.

Whether it’s classics like “Taxi Driver” and “Kill Bill: Vol. 1” or infamous picks like “Caligula” and “The Human Centipede (First Sequence),” it comes as no surprise the theater is always full of passionate diehards and newbies alike. Despite the theater’s strict enforcement of no talking or using phones during the show, the room fills with chatter and laughter as previews begin to roll.

Using what I learned during my BFS screenings, I talk to the people next to me rather than sit in silence at the New Bev. Each conversation usually begins with “Is this your first time at the New Bev?” to which many say yes, while others say they are regulars. Regardless of the response, it’s clear that each person is eager about what they are about to watch.

The excitement that fills the aisles as people go to watch their favorite film or a film they have never seen is a communal experience that brings me closer to those sitting next to me. Over time, I built my own community in that very dark room.

The David Geffen Theater, housed in the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures on Wilshire Boulevard, often features screenings with lectures by industry professionals that attract sold-out crowds. Given these lectures bring long lines and build lots of anticipation before doors open, I often find myself chatting with people around me and learning why they attended.

Before a lecture Guillermo Del Toro gave on director Alfred Hitchcock, I asked the man next to me whether he was a Hitchcock fan or just a film lover. I learned that Myron Murakami is not only on staff at UCLA TFT, but disseminates what he learns at the Academy back to colleagues and students he interacts with. Delighted to hear that I was a Bruin, he asked me why I go to these events. I said I aspired to work in the industry but more importantly that I too love to learn – especially from esteemed filmmakers. The conversation began from a UCLA connection to a familiar face that I now see on campus from time to time.

Some of my closest relationships emerged from this pattern of talking with strangers as the lights begin to dim. I fondly remember a night at the Academy’s member theatre where I met producer David Dubinsky, a UCLA alumnus. After talking about UCLA and our shared passion for film, we’ve remained in touch and often talk about his projects, new releases and awards season.

As I walked under the glow of the marquee that wished director Paul Thomas Anderson a happy birthday on the day I watched “Boogie Nights,” I wasn’t just introduced to the film, but to another fellow Bruin that night – ultimately one who would become a friend. Sitting next to me at Santa Monica’s Aero Theatre was a man who had bright eyes and a big smile for what was about to come. After striking up conversation, I learned he is a UCLA alumnus for both his undergraduate and medical degrees. This 10–minute interaction grew into a friendship that still meets up for screenings whenever we can. In fact, we recently attended a screening of Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece “2001: A Space Odyssey” at the recently reopened Fox Westwood Village Theatre – now dubbed the Directors Village.

The recently revived Westwood landmark was a distant memory for my new friend and a sprouting one for me. Regardless, the shared experience of new sights and sounds in a nearly 1,400-seat theatre filled with other students, alumni and moviegoers was unforgettable. Not only was experiencing “2001” in 70mm a unique experience, but seeing everyone react in awe together and converse at the end of the film was something I will never forget. This shared experience is something we all ought to be a part of.

People must seek out these reemerging independent and historic theaters offering a plethora of films in LA. As our generation looks to get off phones to connect with others face-to-face, LA’s rich, historic film culture provides a singular way of building community.