Start with the sword fight, not the masterpiece

Quick answer: Start with a classic where something happens in the first ten minutes. Introduce it in two sentences, not a lecture. Make a deal: twenty minutes, and if it's not working, you stop with no guilt.

Pick by pace, not by reputation

Most dads make the same mistake. They reach for the movie that changed cinema, the one the critics put on every list, and then wonder why a nine-year-old is upside down on the couch by minute twenty.

Citizen Kane is a great film. It's also a terrible first date.

Your kids have grown up on stories cut for speed. That's not a character flaw. It's what they've been fed. A classic has to earn its place on a Saturday night against a tablet, and it does that by being fun first and important later.

So run the ten-minute test. Does a fight, a chase, a song, a joke or a scare show up before the clock hits ten? The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) passes with room to spare. It's in Technicolor, runs about an hour and forty minutes, and ends with a sword duel between Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone that still beats most of what's made today. Nobody has to be told it's a classic. They just have to see the castle fight.

If you're not sure about a title, spend a few minutes with Vet a Movie in Eight Minutes Before Family Night before you commit the whole room.

Set the room before you press play

Five minutes of setup does more than the movie's reputation ever will.

• Phones go in a basket. Yours too. If you check yours, they'll check theirs.
• Make real popcorn, in a pot or a bag from the pantry. Make too much.
• Dim the lights. Turn the volume up a notch more than you think. Old soundtracks run quiet.
• Sit with them. Don't hover in the kitchen and half-watch.

Then say two sentences, no more. "This came out in 1938. Watch for the archery contest." That's the whole introduction. You're handing them something to look for, not a reading assignment.

Don't explain who the actors were or why the film mattered. If they ask afterward, great. If you front-load it, you've turned a movie into homework.

The twenty-minute deal

Tell them up front: give it twenty minutes. If they hate it, you'll turn it off and nobody gets a speech.

This works for a reason. A kid who's forced to sit through a whole film he's sure he hates learns one thing, which is to hate your suggestions. A kid who gets a fair exit and takes it has still had a fair try. Most of the time he doesn't take it. Twenty minutes is usually enough to get hooked, and the choice was his.

Keep the pause button in your pocket. Use it when they ask a question, or once to say, "What do you think he does now?" That's it. A running commentary kills the spell faster than any slow scene.

Black and white, silent, and slow

Start in color. That's not snobbery, it's strategy. Kids who've never seen a black-and-white film often treat it as a warning label. Give them a color classic first and let them fall for the old style on its own terms.

Once they're in, black-and-white goes down easy if it's quick. The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939) runs about eighty minutes, has fog on the moor and a howl in the dark, and gives you a Sherlock Holmes who actually moves. It's spooky without being graphic, though a death on the moor and a snarling dog might rattle the youngest.

Silent films work better than you'd expect, if the plot is physical. A man chasing a stolen train needs no dialogue. Keep the early ones short and keep the questions flowing afterward.

A starter ladder, with the warnings

Content concerns first, because you're the one who'll hear about it at bedtime.

• The Wizard of Oz (1939), about 100 minutes. Good for ages five and up. The Wicked Witch and the flying monkeys scare some small kids badly. Watch it together the first time.
• Singin' in the Rain (1952), about 100 minutes. Clean, bright, and funny. The Donald O'Connor "Make 'Em Laugh" number is a perfect hook for a kid who thinks old movies are stiff.
• The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938). Sword fights and arrows. Some villains die, none of it graphic. Ages eight and up is a good fit.
• The Court Jester (1955), about 100 minutes. Danny Kaye, slapstick swordplay, and a tongue-twister your kids will repeat for a week. Clean. Ages eight and up.
• The Great Escape (1963), nearly three hours. Better for ten and up. It's a war film. Prisoners are executed after their escape, the film doesn't look away, and the characters smoke constantly. Watch it in two sittings, and keep the motorcycle scene as the reward.

For more by age, The Classic Movies Your Kids Should See Before Thirteen goes further. When the boys are ready for something with more dust on it, The Westerns Every Man Should Watch At Least Once is the next stop.

What old movies assume

A word of opinion, and you can disagree.

Classics assume things that a lot of new entertainment spends its time arguing about. A man keeps his word. Courage costs something. A family is worth the trouble it takes. You don't have to point any of that out. A kid who watches a hero walk toward a fight he could have avoided takes it in without a lecture, and it sticks better that way.

That's the real reason to do this. The movie is the vehicle.

When it flops

It will, sometimes. The pacing may be too slow, the jokes too dated, or the kid simply not in the mood.

Don't push. Don't call him a philistine. Put it back on the shelf and try again in a year, or try a different title. Tastes move fast between eight and twelve. A movie that dies on a Tuesday may be his favorite by spring.

And don't turn it into a quiz at the end. "What did you think?" is plenty. Let silence do some of the work. If a ten-year-old says "that was actually good" and then asks if there's another one, you've won.

Make the popcorn. Make too much. When somebody reaches for seconds without being asked, that's your review.