I've actually watched a whole lot of classics and found an awful lot of them to be like taking my medicine, something I do for the sake of cinematic literacy
Well, aren’t you the martyr, enduring those classics for the sake of cinematic literacy. Someone get this person a medal!
"He" has a lot of experience with a lot of movies that I found to be completely boring.
Yeah, I bet your experience boils down to film school 101, most of which you found boring and some low-bar American entertainment. Once again, I'd love to know which films you do NOT find boring.
If there isn't SOMETHING entertaining in a movie, just WHY would I go?
Entertainment is not the only criterion for judging a movie. Plus there are many ways in which a film can make me entertained. A movie can be entertaining by making me laugh, cry, swoon, think, feel, wonder, imagine, empathize, sympathize, connect, relate, meditate, have Stendhal syndrome, and be hypnotized, to name a few. Good films usually do that by being engaging, (awe-)inspiring, challenging, transformative, transcendent, captivating, moving, stimulating, evocative, sublime, immersive, emotional, thought-provoking, expressive, jaw-dropping visually, or enlightening.
A film is a portal to the head of its auteur, their ideas, thoughts, vision, style, philosophy, passion, and creativity. Films can show you a perspective on a given topic that is different from your own, for your consideration. They can show you different cultures and realities, including those that do not exist, but always filtered through the lens of the camera and the minds of the filmmakers. Films are windows into the world as much as they're mirrors put in front of their auteurs.
A great art film amazes you. It makes you think "Damn, I didn't even know THIS was possible." It inspires you to try and find more films as good as that. Maybe it even inspires you to pick up a camera and shoot something yourself. Great films aim to, sometimes with arrogance, reshape the world. The greatest films succeed in that. They reshape my word, your word, any other film watcher's world.
A film is not just the story and characters, but it's also everything in between: the space between characters and objects, the framing of the shot, the movements of the camera, the hues, the little neurons in your head while you're watching it, the thoughts and dreams you have after watching it.
That's why cinema is art. But...
Cinema is more than art. It is life itself. Just like Walbrook who asks "Why do you want to dance?", if one asks "Why do you want to watch films?", the only right answer is "Why do you want to live?". I don't know exactly why, but I must. It takes courage to live and die cinema, but to speak of it...
There are books. But cinema is not books. It's not made solely of or for the story. There is music, but cinema isn't that either. The image you say... surely. But the image is also unnecessary, as per Jarman's poem and Debord's provocation. And yet, the image is important because it defines the film. It's just that it doesn't have to be a painting or a photograph, but rather a flicker; painting in motion - 24 paintings per second, clocking in and out, changing, transforming.
So cinema... you wonder now, what to make of it. Life is its essence. Life, a start of life, like Plato's forms is a start of philosophy. There have been other lives, will be others: a fallen angel, a chased fugitive, a dead whale in a city square.
That life itself must be amplified to make it astonishing or obscured to strip it to its bare essentials. Not for scholars, but for humans in general and cinephiles in particular. Life itself is made up of close-ups of joy, freeze-frames of pain, camera pans of awe, quick and slow edits, loud and soft sounds, dissolves of longing, and shadows of hope.
But life is more daring than Keaton's stunts and vanishes much faster than the Landscape in the Mist. Life traverses faster than Shimizu's pans and sneaks by more quietly than Okamoto's samurai. Its seizures are harder than Anna's in the metro, its mastershots longer than Satan Tango. Life's beauty is greater than any glimpses of Mekas, its desperation greater than that of Mizoguchi's heroine. Life's more avant-garde than Brakhage's experiments and more moving than Yamada's endings. Life's miracles are more sublime than those of Dreyer, and its dreams more vivid than those of Obayashi. There's more to life than the smiles of Takamine and Karina, more than the glances of Gong and Kyo.
In the end, all is blurred, and it turns out that the only big question in cinema is "What is cinema?"
And then you have the mainstream cinema. The commercial stuff made for money with the sole idea of entertaining the viewer. Of creating a mirage of meaning, and whose only real aim is the swinish joy of the audience. There's no room for beauty, no room for life. It's the cinema of death. Its directors, death's messengers, they drop from nowhere, and their cameras are already rolling. They capture what they never cared to see, what they never lived. They never pause to gaze upon life. But to show life, one must have seen life. And to see life, one must have watched it for years.
Checking the boxes on cinematic devices doesn't make for much of a night out.
If you treat cinema as "a nice night out", then everything I said will go over your head. You cannot learn to love cinema through film studies. You either love cinema or you don't. You can fall in love with it, but rarely through film studies.