Titanic – ‘What can I say? I was a 15-year-old girl!’

I saw it seven times – all in its first run at cinemas. What can I say? I was a 15-year-old girl! I cried my heart out every time. I remember sitting in the first row on opening night because it was otherwise completely sold out. Then I watched it again with friends, and again and again I watched it alone. I went to see it so often the local cinema gave me a free ticket to watch the last showing: I just loved the experience. It was a movie so epic, and until then everyone thought they don’t make them like that any more.

I haven’t seen it lately but when my daughters are old enough I will try to find a cinema showing. It won’t be the same for them, of course, but it has to be seen and it is truly a movie that belongs on the big screen. Stephi, Austria

Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure – ‘Seventeen trips into town for the sheer fun of it’

My friend and I made 17 trips to Leeds city centre to revel in the greatness. Why? The sheer fun of the film, the soundtrack, everything encapsulated who we were at that moment in time. We even managed to collect a fair bit of memorabilia.

We went so often that on our last visit we only noticed the rest of the audience’s 3D glasses when the film began. It turned out after 16 viewings in the “main” screen we had been relegated, and had to highfoot it to get to number 17 in time. Stu, Australia

Grease – ‘I spent 32 Saturday afternoons at the ABC cinema’

Hopelessly devoted … Grease. Photograph: Allstar/Paramount/Sportsphoto Ltd

I couldn’t wait for Grease to be released in September 1978. You’re the One That I Want had topped the charts all summer and every Thursday I’d sit waiting to see the video on Top of the Pops. The world of Rydell High in the 50s was a world away from a 70s Edinburgh council estate. Then a rumour started that Grease would be classified AA, meaning nobody under 14 could see it. I was gutted. Luckily that was wrong, it was an A, and I spent the next 32 Saturday afternoons at the ABC cinema, Lothian Road, watching first a 20-minute short film about skateboarding that had Chris Montez’s Let’s Dance as its theme, then came Danny and Sandy at the beach, Love Is a Many Splendored Thing playing in the background, before the cartoon credits rolled. Sam, Edinburgh

Roma – ‘I felt like I was in the streets of Mexico City’

After the whole debacle between Netflix and established cinema chains across the world, I was happy to see that the EYE Filmmuseum in Amsterdam was showing Alfonso Cuáron’s Roma. Not only that, but the screening was in their state-of-the-art Cinema 1, with 4K resolution and beautiful, crisp surround sound. This elevates the already profound experience of Roma to a whole new level: you can feel yourself in the busy streets of Mexico City.

I went several times, and took different friends each time. We pretty much all agreed that Roma was meant to be seen on a big screen, with great sound, rather than a tiny computer screen and tinny speakers. This is the kind of film that asks for complete immersion into a time, setting and aesthetic – it is a shame that it couldn’t be experienced that way by the majority of the public. J Medina, Amsterdam

The Warriors – ‘Police frogmarched us into waiting vans’

Come out to play … The Warriors. Photograph: Alamy

I went to see this film six times in the two weeks it played at our local Unit 4. That first time, it took my breath away – I’d never seen anything as captivating. Everything, from the premise to the music, the actors and the action itself (the fight scenes especially) was a revelation to this small-town 20-year-old. Thrilling.

I also fell in love with one of the extras, which must’ve been part of the draw (the young woman with the long blonde hair in the Lizzies scene). A week later, myself and a group of friends went to see it again in Rawtenstall: we were passing joints around when suddenly the lights came on and police streamed in and frogmarched us out, into waiting vans. Busted! Martin Peacock, Accrington

Blade Runner – ‘They could release a one-second edit tomorrow and I’d be the first to buy a ticket’

While I saw the 1982 theatrical cut on TV and really liked it, I fell in love with the director’s cut and saw it four times in two weeks when it was released in cinemas in 1992. This doesn’t sound like much, but if you consider the three different versions of Blade Runner to be “one film”, then I’ve seen it over 20 times at the cinema. They could release a fourth version tomorrow with the only difference being a one-second cut to an incidental scene and I’d be the first to buy a ticket.

You really can’t beat seeing those stunning visuals on the big screen and hearing Vangelis’s gorgeous soundtrack in the theatre. I’m lucky that the Astor in Melbourne screens it about once a year, although there’s not one currently scheduled for 2019 (strange given that’s the year the movie is set). Neill Brown, Melbourne

Psycho – ‘Seeing it with a new audience made me experience it differently’

Back for more … Janet Leigh in Psycho. Photograph: Allstar Picture Library

I see new details and nuances each time. Recently, for example, I noticed the wire rakes in the garden shop Marion’s boyfriend works in, and their resemblance to skeletal claws. But why was such an image planted there, rather than in the Bates Motel? This kicked off a line of enquiry I will take into my next viewing. I also find seeing the film each time with a new audience helps me to experience it in its totality quite differently. Recent viewings have opened my eyes to its sly humour. Emotionally, I identify with those in the audience seeing the film for the first time and share with them the frisson of its unravelling. Alex, London

Bunty Aur Babli – ‘We never tired of it’

My 16-year-old daughter and I completely fell in love with this film (we were seeing a lot of Bollywood films at the time), and returned at least six times over the course of a couple of weeks, taking with us various reluctant friends each time. We loved the adventurous characters (played by Abhishek Bachchan and Rani Mukerji) and their slow-burn romance, the high-spirited (but never mean-spirited) capers they ran, and their pursuit by a wily cop played by legendary superstar Amitabh Bachchan (Abhishek’s father). We adored the music, lusted after the clothes, and never got tired of it, even after we knew the Hindi dialogue by heart. Laura Boyes, North Carolina

Brokeback Mountain – ‘The story really got under my skin’

Can’t quit you … Brokeback Mountain. Photograph: Allstar/Focus Features

I stumbled on Annie Proulx’s short story and it captivated me. I was in my mid 40s when the movie was released and I went to see it solo at a matinee here in San Francisco. I was so moved I was shaking when I left the cinema and, afraid I was going to burst into tears, had to hide behind a pillar to smoke a cigarette. My hand was trembling as I tried to light it.

I went back seven times, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends. I became fixated on certain scenes and would watch them over and over again on YouTube – the story really got under my skin and I spent a year on IMDb discussing it with other fans. Trevor Martin, San Francisco

Batman (1989) – ‘I went seven times and thought I knew it inside out’

I turned 20 in the summer of 1989 and went crazy for Tim Burton’s first Batman film. Maybe because it was the first “proper” superhero film since Superman II … maybe it was because it had a great soundtrack by Prince and a moody score by Danny Elfman (I bought both albums on various formats) and maybe because I loved the sartorial choices on display (double-breasted suits and 40s fedoras), but I couldn’t get enough of it.

At the time I had a girlfriend in Venice, and when I went in October to visit her the movie had just been released there. Naturally, we went to see the film on a date (her first viewing, my eighth). When we came out she said she loved the moment when Bruce Wayne got shot through his jacket and didn’t notice. My jaw dropped. I’d seen the film so many times and hadn’t noticed that detail. I saw it again recently and I felt no wave of nostalgia, just a sense of huge disappointment. “Is that it?” I thought. Steve, London