We (Barely) Survived 24 Hours at the Movies: An Unhinged Timeline of AMC’s Oscars Best Picture Marathon

Every film buff has their own Oscar tradition. But perhaps the most hardcore is AMC Theatres’ annual Best Picture Showcase, a 24-hour movie marathon showcasing the nominees. We’ve always wondered: Who in their right mind would choose to watch nine movies back-to-back (to-back-to-back-to-back). So, for the sake of journalism (and masochism), we decided to find out. We checked ourselves into the insane asylum of AMC Empire 25 in Times Square to spend our weekend in Auditorium 7 for the endurance test of a lifetime.

Here’s the rundown:

We will remain inside Times Square’s AMC Theatres for the entirety of the Best Picture Marathon, which begins Saturday at 12 p.m. and ends Sunday around 1 p.m. Nine of the 10 best picture nominees will screen consecutively (“Emilia Pérez,” excluded because it streamed on Netflix, will not be sorely missed), with 10-minute breaks scheduled between each film (plus one 45-minute dinner period). For those doing math, yes, this “24-Hour Marathon” is indeed 24 hours and 50 minutes. As an added challenge, we’re going to try to limit ourselves to only what is sold at AMC concessions.

Supplies:

Ethan’s packing list: Neck pillow, blanket, toothbrush, laptop, chargers, Altoids, Flonase, change of clothes.
Rebecca’s packing list: Disinfectant wipes, Advil (which I hope I don’t need), Xanax (which I really hope I don’t need), ear plugs, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, laptop and chargers.

Attendance report:

Nearly all of the 103 seats were taken at the start of “The Brutalist,” but we’ll be keeping track of who stays throughout the night.

Arrival (11:45 a.m.)

Rebecca Rubin: Ethan, I always thought our most harrowing mutual experience would be the time we were flying back from the Toronto Film Festival and our plane was almost struck by lightning. Alas, journalism always finds a way. I’m naturally anxious and perpetually tired, so I’m not optimistic about this. But you’re a glutton for punishing assignments. You famously went to a 3:15 a.m. Imax screening of “Dune: Part Two.” How are you feeling?

Ethan Shanfeld: I’m a little tired, but it’s not like watching 24 hours of movies takes much effort. We had a similar preparation strategy: Don’t think about this in advance at all. It’s times like these I wish I could take the Substance and send a hotter, younger me into the theater instead.

Rubin: One last thing before we get started. I want to apologize in advance for the person I’m going to be at the end of this.  

“The Brutalist” (12:00 pm)

Shanfeld: Let’s talk about the fact that there were trailers – adding 20 unforeseen minutes to this event. That, along with Nicole Kidman and that horrendous Coke ad, feels like cruel and unusual punishment for those who have already inflicted it upon themselves. Plus, there was no formal acknowledgement of our forthcoming odyssey. I thought at least AMC would send an employee to wish us well on our journey.

Rubin: Agreed. It was strangely unceremonious. I mean, this is the (entertainment) equivalent of free solo climbing El Capitan.

Shanfeld: We spent $75 (before tax) on a movie ticket! We had gold wristbands! We should have been ushered to our seats and handed a welcome drink.

Rubin: There was a surprising lack of campiness to this whole thing. Nobody was acting like it’s the slightest bit deranged we were all spending 25 hours in a movie theater.

Shanfeld: These are serious people. I got the vibe that it was less casual moviegoers catching up on Oscar nominees and more hardcore awards freaks in it for the thrill. People were already arguing about the appropriate amount of screen time to merit a best supporting actor nomination — category fraud, it’s an epidemic.

Rubin: As for the movie, we’ve both already seen “The Brutalist,” which I wasn’t mad about watching again. It’s the longest of the day at three hours and 34 minutes (including a 15-minute intermission), so it was smart to schedule this first and get it out of the way. But if László Tóth’s niece says it’s about the destination, not the journey… God, for the sake of this torture experiment, I hope she’s wrong.

Break #1 (3:55 p.m.) 

Rubin: I’m sorry, Ethan. I know you wanted us to stay on the AMC diet, but I knew that I’d need real food, so I smuggled in a turkey avocado wrap from the bodega near my apartment. I dug into it by the first break, which, by the way, is shorter than the intermission of “The Brutalist.” I hope I don’t sound ridiculous, but these breaks are too short! Concessions were down the escalator, so I barely had time to sneak downstairs and illegally fill my Stanley (with water!). I don’t know whether that’s allowed, but I don’t like getting in trouble, so I was trying to be covert about the beverage ordeal.

Shanfeld: Please keep an eye out for the water police. I, legally, purchased a pepperoni pizza flatbread and Diet Coke and scarfed ’em down as people shuffled back into the theater. One member of our squadron walked by and muttered to nobody in particular: “This movie is just way too long.” It felt like a silly complaint for someone who paid for a nonuple (yes, I looked that word up) feature.

“Nickel Boys” (4:05 p.m.)

Rubin: “Nickel Boys” and “I’m Still Here” are the only films on the lineup I hadn’t seen, so I was happy at least one was programmed earlier in the festivities, before I completely lose my sanity. About 45 minutes into the movie, I noticed that one person in the row in front of us had already started to doze off. “Ha! Weak…” I thought smugly to myself, fully knowing that’ll be me in a short few hours.

Shanfeld: Midway through, I went to the bathroom and saw a dude bring in his popcorn bucket and place it atop the urinal in which he then peed. Disturbing stuff, and it’s still daylight…

Break #2 (6:25 p.m.)

Rubin: I was trying to hold off on concession food for as long as possible to avoid the inevitability of feeling terrible. I caved during our dinner break. We got chicken tenders, which rudely displayed the calorie count (970 without sauce…) on the menu. I purposely didn’t look at the calories in the Coke Icee because, at that point, ignorance is bliss. I immediately felt ill after the tenders.

Shanfeld: I thought they were stadium-level delicious, but that could be the delusion setting in.

“A Complete Unknown” (7:10 p.m.)

Shanfeld: All love to “The Brutalist” and “Nickel Boys,” but after those two, “A Complete Unknown” felt like a respite. Dare I say I’ve enjoyed each film more on the second watch?

Rubin: Honestly, I’m not sure how I felt because I spent most of “A Complete Unknown” on a slushy-induced sugar high. Maybe it was the joyous harmony of “It Ain’t Me Babe,” but people around us seemed to be on the same page. Our seatmates returned 30 minutes into the movie with Starbucks cups and a fat bag of candy from “It’s Sugar.” We all needed a boost.

Shanfeld: I’ve lost track of my diet soda tally. I’m not looking forward to this impending stomachache.

Rubin: Stray thought but Timothée Chalamet has long, elegant fingernails. I’m going to take note of how they’re manicured in “Dune Part Two.”

Shanfeld: That’s just the ’60s, man.

Break #3 (9:30 p.m.)

Shanfeld: Right before “A Complete Unknown” ended, you nudged me to turn around.

Rubin: Three AMC employees were standing by the entrance. It was the first time we were acknowledged by anyone outside our auditorium.

Shanfeld: They had trivia!

Rubin: Ethan, you got one right about the original title of the movie, “Going Electric.” I thought it was kind of cheating for you to answer, since it’s our job to know these things. But then you kindly gave your prize — a Monica Barbaro character poster — to a woman behind us. She thanked you multiple times. I think she’s going to remember that gesture for the rest of her life.

Shanfeld: I told her, “Don’t think twice, it’s all right.”

“Anora” (9:40 p.m.)

Shanfeld: Ever since we bought these tickets, we’ve been planning to get cocktails at MacGuffins, the cocktail bar that’s aggressively advertised on AMC’s website. It’s all a lie! There’s no MacGuffins Bar — only the lame, regular menu with four white wines, two reds and a sampling of beers. We each got a Pinot Grigio.

Rubin: Grigio girls! “Anora” was a good movie to nurse a glass of wine through. It calmed me during Ani’s wild goose chase around Brooklyn. The packaging on the canned wine described the drink as “light and crisp, displaying juicy notes of citrus and lime.” It tasted like an instant headache.

Shanfeld: We also got a tub of popcorn to share. I offered you some of my Sweetarts Ropes, but you declined.

Rubin: I needed to have some self-respect. For what felt like half the movie, a guy in the front row was scrolling through the food and beverage options on his AMC app. I wanted to shout, “Don’t get your hopes up! MacGuffins doesn’t exist!!!”

Break #4 (12 a.m.)

Shanfeld: Shortly after midnight, an AMC worker came back to tell us the concession stand was closing for one hour — and that the building would be locked through the night. A guard was stationed outside the auditorium to unlock the balcony for anyone in need of a smoke break. I hope the guy in front of me who was blowing vape clouds during Mikey Madison’s emotional breakdown in “Anora” took note.

Rubin: I felt good about the security measures, but bad that the guards were working such a horrendous shift. Before we went into lockdown mode, we tried to explore the six-story building. The layout is confusing because the escalators don’t connect every floor, so we thought the elevator would be easier. We were wrong.

Shanfeld: The elevator attendant, who must have been sitting in there for hours, lashed out at you when you pressed a button without her permission. That’s a big no-no in the elevator community.

Rubin: She acted like I launched a nuclear warhead: “Ughhhhh, great.”

“The Substance” (12:10 a.m.)

Rubin: OK, we’ve buried the lede. The seats don’t recline, and it’s downright cruel. I would have reconsidered this assignment had I known we were about to be confined to “plush rockers” for a full day of our lives.

Shanfeld: My butt started hurting before the Statue of Liberty went upside down in “The Brutalist.” I’m not loving these plush rockers, which are plush but do not rock, literally or figuratively. I knew from the start I would eventually need to be horizontal. This movie is when the yawning started. I was #FeelingMyself after that miniature can of wine.

Rubin: I journeyed downstairs to refill my water bottle around 1:30 a.m. and saw you lying down on the dirty carpet. No judgement, but you’re gross for that.

Break #5 (2:30 a.m.)

Rubin: Trivia returns! The questions seemed harder, but they upped the prize ante — these posters were for “The Brutalist.” We really should have known the answer to the length of the Cannes standing ovation for “The Substance.”

Shanfeld: When nobody guessed that correctly, the hosts took a real softball turn. “Which actor received both an Oscar and Golden Globe nomination for ‘The Substance’?” Someone shouted out “Demi Moore” and the manager actually checked his notes before confirming they were right.

Rubin: We also mustered the courage to chat with the people around us — the auditorium was still mostly full at this point – and they gave us some good advice!

Shanfeld: A veteran of the Best Picture Showcase suggested we balance our intake of sugar and caffeine, and not to have too much of either.

Rubin: He was enthusiastic about protein. I bet he’d be so proud to know I snuck in that turkey wrap.

“Conclave” (2:40 a.m.)

Rubin: I nodded off twice when I watched “Conclave” at a perfectly humane hour, which is to say I didn’t have high hopes for myself at 2:40 a.m. With the Coke Icee still coursing through my veins, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. Not a wink. Others were luckier; it was hard to see in the darkened theater, but I counted a dozen with their eyes closed. Plenty were awake and audibly reacting to the papal shenanigans on screen.

Shanfeld: I took a power nap during “Conclave” and — spoiler alert! — woke up to the sound of a fucking bomb.

Break #6 (4:40 a.m.)

Shanfeld: Trivia is back, and I am miserable.

Rubin: My favorite question was asking which novel “Nickel Boys” is based on. Answer? “The Nickel Boys.” I hope the winner was pleased with their Glinda poster.

Shanfeld: There is simply way too much energy in this room. I thought people would tap out by “The Substance,” but the auditorium is still practically full.

Rubin: I couldn’t help but laugh when I overheard the woman next to me say, “I’m so excited; I haven’t watched ‘Dune 2’ in three months.”

“Dune: Part Two” (4:50 a.m.)

Shanfeld: I want to go home.

Rubin: I’ve given up trying to rest and instead resorted to paying attention to the movie. I usually pride myself on being able to fall asleep wherever, whenever, but the sound is painfully loud. I put in earplugs, not because I thought they’d drown anything out, but because I was genuinely concerned about rupturing my eardrums.

Shanfeld: We are fully in a “Saw” trap. The sound from the theater is BOOMING down the hall, making it impossible for even the dirty-carpet dwellers to get some shut eye.

Rubin: When the movie was over, I noticed you had both shoes off…

Shanfeld: No comment.

Rubin: In case you were wondering, Timmy mostly wears gloves in “Dune: Part Two,” but I noticed his fingernails were much shorter on Arrakis than they were in Greenwich Village.

Break #7 (7:35 a.m.)

Shanfeld: I’ve determined that this whole experience is like a very long flight but without the free pretzels or Ginger Ale.

Rubin: I noticed the security guard outside our auditorium was snoozing on her chair. To be clear, I don’t blame her at all.

“I’m Still Here” (7:45 a.m.)

Rubin: I’ll point out the obvious: The film’s title feels like a cruel taunt at this hour.

Shanfeld: Absolutely.

Rubin: I got a little too confident and assumed, at this rate, I’d remain awake during the entirety of the marathon. On cue, I finally fell asleep! Of course, it was during the one movie I still need to see. I’m so sorry, Fernanda Torres. I will eventually right this wrong, but not today.

Shanfeld: You have bestowed shame upon Brazil. It will not forget.

Rubin: Before I passed out, I forced you to join me in ordering bagels and coffee on DoorDash. I could not stomach another meal from the concession stand, and I knew I’d need to eat before we leave the premises at 1 p.m. I felt bad: I was crinkling the shit out of that bagel wrapper during a very serious movie.

Shanfeld: Don’t worry. Theater etiquette went out the window at least three movies ago.

Break #8 (10 a.m.)

Shanfeld: We’re almost at the last circle of hell and tensions are bubbling up. Apparently someone in the front row relocated to an empty seat next to one of the marathon vets toward the back and promptly took a snooze. I overheard the gossip circulating outside the restrooms: “If you’re going to nap the whole time, go back to the front.”

Rubin: Back in the auditorium, I asked the people in front of us what possessed them to enlist in the war against sleep. They summed it up in Gen Z terms: “For the plot.”

“Wicked” (10:10 a.m.)

Rubin: I always knew that ending this ordeal with “Wicked” would feel like a warm hug from Dulcibear. This is my third time seeing it in theaters and honestly, if I weren’t here, I’d probably be listening to the soundtrack on my own time.

Shanfeld: “But of couuurse I’ll care for Nessa” will be stuck in my head for days now. By now, the room had thinned out a bit. We were among the Shiz Academy holdouts. I know the musical is two hours and 40 minutes, but why not stick it out?

Rubin: I’ve only slept an hour in total, and “Popular” and “Defying Gravity” hit different at peak delirium.

Shanfeld: A friend texted me asking about “last night,” and the question truly perplexed me. There is no “last night.” I’m on a different planet here.

Final Takeaways (12:50 p.m.)

Shanfeld: After Elphaba hit that high note and got the fuck out of Emerald City, the audience clapped for the first time, which felt more like a celebration of ourselves than “Wicked.” Rebecca, how are you feeling?

Rubin: I hit a low point during “Dune: Part Two,” but I held up a lot better than I anticipated… No Xanax needed. I feel like I’m on a runner’s high. None of these randoms in the lobby are aware of the feat we accomplished. But you said something truly insane when we were walking out of the auditorium the final time.

Shanfeld: I said I could do three more. Could, like if we had to. Weirdly, I feel OK now. But I felt pretty close to death somewhere between the Vatican and Arrakis.

Rubin: I actually like all of these movies, but in this format, I hated every single one. Would I ever do this again? No. Would I recommend it to a friend? Also no. Would I recommend it to an enemy? Yes!

Shanfeld: I can’t wait to go home, snuggle up on the couch and watch “Emilia Pérez.”