The movie business is a gamble at the best of times. And in the immortal words of Kenny Rogers, you’ve got to know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. Timing is all. The stakes are rising. So are the vaccination figures. Is Covid about to throw in its hand?

And as they hunch in a circle round the poker table, studio chiefs are wondering: do we hold on to these prestigious, expensive, effects-laden, star-stuffed movie properties of ours, waiting for cinemas to reopen, but risking an unprofitable pile-up with other delayed releases? Or do we fold – dump them on streaming services, abandon the supposed theatrical-release profits and move on? Disney folded with its movies Mulan and Soul and was quite happy to release them on the streaming platform.

But now there’s a shift towards holding, studios sticking toughly with the cinema release model, and so there is a rash of further delays. It’s like looking up at a departures noticeboard in the 1970s era of British Rail. Edgar Wright’s Last Night In Soho, Jason Reitman’s Ghostbusters: Afterlife, Kay Cannon’s Cinderella are all now delayed, along with the Jared Leto superhero film Morbius and the video-game adaptation Uncharted. And most outrageously of all, that James Bond film – its cast now probably first in line for the Pfizer jab – with the now hilariously appropriate title No Time to Die. It has been put back for the umpteenth time. This is a movie whose delays are now famed part of Britain’s lockdown story, like clapping for carers and Chris Whitty calling for the next slide. No Time to Die now exists purely for film critics to make facetious remarks on Twitter.

Here is the paradox. Because the end is in sight, we don’t get the movies, we get delays. People are now daring to believe that the Covid era’s days are numbered, so they should hold their nerve with a financial model that has stood up for decades. This year’s awards season is effectively over, in any case, and production has been slowed almost to a standstill, so why not hold back with the stockpile?

For movie-lovers it’s infuriating. And the endless delays have revealed to me something more about what we have lost in this lockdown. Of course we have lost out on the thrill of being in the cinema, in the darkness: laughing, gasping and screaming in real time along with everyone else, responding to the epic scale of the screen. But we’re also losing out on the framing events of cinema, the social platforms that elevated it and made it special.

Even if you don’t go to see films, you’re supposed to hear about them when they’re premiered at glitzy festivals and then released in cinemas. You’re supposed to read interviews with their stars and directors, consume all the exciting debates and the rows. And you’re supposed to know they’re out there, up there atop pop culture’s Mount Olympus – a special going-out treat that you can decide whether or not to have. When they are put out on streaming services, as part of the slosh of content pumped out on Netflix and Amazon Prime, well, the specialness is gone. The thrill is gone.

It’s like booking to see an exhibition at Tate Modern and being told it’s cancelled but you can access high-resolution images on your laptop instead.

So the delays are, oddly, an encouraging sign that the movie studios aren’t giving up. In the meantime, we just have to dream of better times and bigger screens to come.