Last night I went to see David Fincher’s new movie, “Panic Room,” which is no “Fight Club,” for better or worse. Actually, it’s a tautly made thriller, enjoyable if unambitious. But what made the trek all the way up to the hellish Times Square area worth it was a single scene halfway through, when Fincher turns the movie virtually silent — and the opening weekend crowd that I saw it with went completely wild, hooting, hollering, screaming at the screen. It’s the kind of rare, visceral, communal moviegoing experience that few directors can achieve, and it was spectacular.