A night at the movies

So my friend Alex lives on a small island in the Aegean sea. Not much happens there in the winter, so when the municipal cinema opened a few years back, everyone was quite pleased. But this year they were short of one projectionist, and as the cinema risked remaining closed throughout the season, Alex jumped to the rescue and undertook the task of operating the projection equipment twice per week.

He even went as far as shouldering the responsibility of selecting and ordering the movies that would be shown, and distributing a leaflet with the monthly programme.

One night last month, Alex had chosen to show a relatively old and particularly lengthy European black and white movie. During the projection, something went terribly wrong. Alex was stuck in the little projection booth, alone, unable to see or hear what was going on in the theater, but he already knew he was in trouble. As soon as the film ended, he turned everything off and ran to the exit of the cinema, ready to face the rap, apologise and explain. It was an accident, after all...

To his surprise (and dismay), he saw nothing out of the ordinary. People walking out calmly, some couples hand in hand, clearly touched by the movie; one or two small groups of people standing outside the exit, rigorously discussing it, exchanging views and opinions; others alone, still absorbed, taking a few steps, then stopping to ponder on it, then a few more steps...

And now his dilemma: "Do I tell them that the film came in four separate reels, and by mistake I played the third one before the second one?".