As you read this, Hollywood is in the midst of movie award season. For me, this means seeing as many Oscar-worthy movies in the cinema as possible so I can feel mildly involved in an industry that would never accept me. It also gives me an excuse to stay home from work on the day of the Academy Awards and eat many different types of cheese. As time passes, however, my excitement for the cinema has faded. Is it because the old saying that three months wages should be spent on an engagement ring now applies to buying a movie ticket? No. Because after hocking your grandmother’s jewelry to purchase tickets you are still forced to endure 25 minutes of terrible advertisements anyway? No. It’s because when I enter the darkness of the cinema, I am exposed to the true nature of man, the most-dangerous game.
There is nothing better than settling in your seat and getting lost in a movie. For a while, you aren’t thinking about your horrible boss (unless watching Horrible Bosses) or about your aunt August who lives in Osage County (unless; you know). It’s an excuse for emotional release, a reason to laugh and cry and be moved without having to find Internet videos of different animal species being best friends. Unfortunately, these days I find myself increasingly withdrawn from movies by the behavior of others. Firstly, there is the rise of smart phones, glowing in the darkness, shining a spotlight on the inconsiderate. The people who arrive 15 minutes into the movie are worse, opening doors, letting light in, whispering, and struggling to find their seats. How it is even POSSIBLE to be late to a movie when previews go for as long as Betty White’s career? If you can’t make it in time for the opening credits, you don’t deserve to see the movie, even if it is Grown Ups 2.
Then there’s unnecessary noise. This is split into two categories: talking and food-related. Far be it for me to disparage food, I am one of its biggest fans. However, most movies run for a couple of hours. You really can’t sit through a Tuesday Meryl Streep matinee without chowing down on a three-course sushi meal? It doesn’t end there. It seems as though some people forget how to eat like a normal human as soon as they enter a darkened room. How is it possible that I can hear you eating popcorn from row C (where the cool kids sit) when you are in the back row? How can I get lost in the magic of cinema when I have to listen to you crinkle a chip packet every three seconds for two hours? Did I accidentally stumble into the finals for World’s Loudest Drink Slurper?
But the worst cinema malefactors by far are the talkers. Sometimes it’s groups of teenagers who, in their rush of hormones and delight at sitting in the dark near other hormones, can’t help but try to impress each other with zingers. More often it is older people who have such urgent and important things to say that they cannot possibly wait for the credits to roll. The cinema is not a venue for you and your friends to gather and chat – that’s why cafes and restaurants were invented. Please consider going to one of those instead, or perhaps doing a TED talk.
From the first day I open my dream cinema (and yours), some rules will be sternly enforced. Your phones will be turned off and put away, on threat of having them smashed on the floor. If you arrive any time after the previews and ads are over, you will be refused a ticket for that session. And no food in packaging will be allowed, unless the food has its own packaging, like a beautiful silent banana. There will be one ‘sky marshal’ per showing, who will remove talkers and other offenders from the theatre. All the range of human emotions will still be allowed; you can laugh and cry as loud as you need. You will just be forced to be considerate of others enjoying the movie-going experience, since so many people apparently struggle to do that on their own.
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