film classes in college are basically like any other course where you are studying and analyzing a "text" - in this case, the "text" is the film. Just as an English major I tear apart literature to talk about what devices it uses to accomplish this or that and how well it was at accomplishing that. For film you just use another set of terms and rules.
So a typical class period is -- sit in a room and listen to a lecture that discusses theories of film critics and film makers who have published articles and all criticize one another or prove a point they've been debating internally all their lives. Doesn't matter if we agree or disagree, it's just to educate us with what's going on with film. Even the prof may tear up some critic's work cause he just doesn't agree. We can ask questions, debate a point for a little bit, but it is mainly lecture so you don't engage the professor cause he's really trying to talk to the whole large group not just you. Then he will demonstrate his (or other's) points with film clips etc. Then we argue for, against, create a whole new hypothesis all our own, or whatever, and explore this in a paper like any other class using the terms and rules of film.
We break down visual moments, ie, take a scene in a film (the intro to Psycho, for example) and break it down into it's elements -- the opening shot is an establishing shot we are VERY familiar with today, and this set a precedent (a great example of history made with film) -- NY from above and a distance. Then a pan/zoom into an interior shot of an apartment where two main characters are in the midst of interaction. This is a typical opening scene for many films and while it had certainly been used before this movie there was a serious flooding of the device in other films after this one that we still see and take for granted today. At the time, it was still rather unique.
We also visually analyze film image itself. In a single frame -- say, in Hitchcock's Vertigo, Madeleine's character enters a restaurant and she stands facing but not seeing the protagonist. The walls are a lush red, she is rose white, and she is in an emerald green dress. At the very moment the protagonist turns to see her and she pauses before continuing onward - never having seen him -- the light against the heavily detailed wall behind her amplifies and her background is suddenly glowing so that she becomes, in effect, a living cameo. It is highly subtle and unless you freeze frame before the moment and watch each frame you don't _consciously_ notice it. Then we analyze what that has to do with the film itself, with the characters, what was Hitchcock trying to do, what does this say about this or that, etc.
That's why I love film. there is meaning in nothing and everything; the director's work of art is a puzzle with various pieces and to know what each piece is about or to at least be aware of all the possibilities is to fully appreciate the final product instead of just seeing the obvious creation at the end. Analyzing Vertigo in depth as I did I fell in love with the movie and was VERY entangled in it. I had never seen it before which made it a very psychologically complicated experience. When I saw the end and hadn't expected it, I was VERY disturbed and very moved.
That's what film can do to you. I love it because of that, it's like great food or great sex.