A trip to the movie theater is usually an exercise in taciturnity. Every motion is executed with calculated finesse. From deadening the sound of sneakers peeling off a syrupy floor, to the art of delicately muffling the crunches and slurps of concessions in attempts to avoid spoiling suspense. In the dark of the theater we all do our best to behave like mice. But once a month Liberty Hall, 644 Massachusetts St., invites you to cast off the meek attitude and go mad.

Midnight Movie Madness is the brainchild of Lawrence residents Malcolm Miller and Jeremiah Johnson, the creators and self-proclaimed “grand pubahs” of Midnight Movie Madness. The monthly event celebrates beloved (cult) films that rarely grace the big screen after their original cinema debuts. Since Midnight Movie Madness’ inception in 2007, Miller and Johnson have shown 19 films, and the screenings have become eagerly awaited events for movie-minded Lawrencians. But it’s more than the films that keep the audiences coming in by the droves. At each showing, enthusiasts adorn themselves in the garb of the iconic characters they are going to see. Depending on the film, costumes can get outrageous. At a showing of The Big Lebowski in June, there were more than a handful of bathrobe-clad moviegoers waiting in a seemingly endless line for White Russians.

 The energy of the crowd rarely wares off come show time. There are often complaints of noise during the screening but with a name like Midnight Movie Madness, the hosts expect nothing less. The noise hasn’t deterred anyone from turning up, though; in fact, it’s probably attracted more people.

 Last Saturday, in the spirit of Halloween, Miller and Johnson chose to screen the hilariously terrifying Evil Dead II. The claymation gore was repeatedly punctuated by bursts of wild laughter and witty taglines shouted from the audience. Some patrons thought enough of the movie to arrive in full regalia, most notably a pair of bloody chainsaw-clad moviegoers in the guise of the film’s hero, Ash Williams.

 For Miller and Johnson, Midnight Movie Madness is more than a chance to turn a profit. In fact, the pair pay out of pocket for the theater’s rental fee and say they haven’t done much better than break even on most showings. “We’re not in it for the money, but without it we couldn’t do what we do,” Miller says. They have taken to selling T-shirts advertising the event, which has helped the duo make enough money to keep putting it on. But it’s not enough to let them quit their day jobs.

 During the daylight hours, Johnson is a mild-mannered projectionist at the theater, which suits him fine seeing as he has an admitted obsession with films. This infatuation began when he first saw the movie Aliens as an 8-year-old. The film sparked his passion and led him to start counting all the movies he saw. He says he lost count at 1,500, but since then, his enthusiasm for film hasn’t waned.

 Miller cuts hair at Amyx Barbershop, 842 1/2 Massachusetts St., and is often recognized by his unmistakable haircut, which is best matched in cinema by Danny Zuko from Grease. Although he doesn’t work at Liberty Hall, his fascination for movies made him just the person Johnson needed to turn his fantasy into a reality.

 It was Liberty Hall video clerk Nesta Wilson who first united the dynamic duo. Wilson, a long time friend of Miller, overheard the two independently yearning for a place to see all the old movies they loved. From there it was only a matter of time before they made the connection and found the funds for the first screening.

 Regardless of the pair’s ambition, Midnight Movie Madness couldn’t exist without Rob Fitzgerald. As manager of Liberty Hall, he was the gatekeeper for Miller and Johnson. The idea to have monthly midnight showings had come up before but he’d dismissed the notion, fearing lack of interest. But when approached by the pair, he decided to let them rent it out, and even helped them by making it a bit more affordable. When asked what he thought about the event now that it’s really hit its stride, Fitzgerald replied, “I wish I’d done it earlier — I’m kicking myself now.”

 For a town deep in the heart of the Midwest, it’s events such as Midnight Movie Madness that set Lawrence apart. All it took was two guys with a passion for films and a truckload of ambition to give us all another reason to stop worrying and just go mad, even if only for one night.