First World Problems in a Movie Theater
July 28, 2013
July 28, 2013
I can do things by myself, mom! OKAY? GEEZ.
But seriously. I can.
I have no problem shopping alone. Eating alone. Traveling alone. And bathing alone is definitely non-negotiable.
I can even see movies alone. I don’t very often, mostly because I’m lazy and it requires leaving the house and forcing my corneas toward bright, bright sunlight, but yesterday I went to see The Conjuring all on my lonesome.
Alone, in a darkened theater, yesterday’s inner monologue went something like this:
please no one sit by me
really? You need a large popcorn?
don’t sit in front of me don’t sit in front of me –damn it
hey, why is there a kid here
nearest exit? check
ethan hawke still has an acting career…huh
this Dolby Surround Sound sounds rapey
i feel like Patrick Wilson is a robot
ugh why did I buy that popcorn
man, i should have bought that exorcism kit when i had the chance
ron livingston…mama like…
As you can probably tell, this isn’t a blog post about the movie. (Side note: It was very Poltergeist-y, well-plotted and well-acted. I enjoyed it.) This is a post about the movie going experience and why I don’t do the things I did yesterday.
1) Sugary Liquids and Popcorn are not your friends
Because I’m all about living life large and having delicious first world problems I decided to treat myself to a small popcorn and a Cherry ICEE. I giggled when placing the order. I felt so carefree and youthful.
Twenty minutes later, halfway through the ICEE and bag of popcorn, I had a sugar buzz and an uncomfortable stomach. Oily butter coated my tongue. I longed for a toothbrush. I regretted my purchase. It made me wish for simpler things. Like being a kid again, slurping down juice boxes with abandon and throwing rocks at cars.
Instead, I pulled an Arrowhead Water I had smuggled in out of my purse and settled for being a boring old square.
2) People annoy the shit out of me
Really? there’s an usher and a flashlight in my face right when shit’s getting real?
Oh, hey, man who’s moving in front of me through a crucial plot point, thanks for that.
Yo, ladies behind me, ever heard of an inside voice? The movie’s starting. No one needs your dissertation on Bradley Cooper’s hair style.
So now comes to the worst part. The part that seriously had me on edge. The two women in front of me ate popcorn in a way that had me considering murder.
Though there is no instruction manual on how to eat popcorn correctly, it’s not that complicated. I don’t know about you, but I full throttle force a palmful into my mouth at one time. Then I chew that buttery goodness. Two steps. That’s it.
These women would pick up a piece – just one piece – and nibble on it. Goddamn nibble like bunny rabbits. One bite. Two bites. Three. At first I leaned forward because I honestly thought they were cracking open pistachios, the sound was so loud.
This continued throughout the entire movie.
I considered pouring that ICEE on top of their heads.
“Almost,” I whispered to myself in the dark.
3) The scary movie atmosphere is tainted
In my opinion, you need to focus on a horror movie more than you would on a drama or action flick when it’s seen in the theater. You need to get into it to really feel the thrills.
In an action movie where Jason Bourne is running around, you don’t have to be too engrossed to see him leaping from rooftops or roundhouse kicking villains.
In a horror movie, you have to have that vibe. That cocoon of creep.
Unfortunately, as I realized yesterday, with the masses around it’s pretty much damn near impossible to achieve.
Sure, I shrieked a couple of times at The Conjuring but it doesn’t compare to a few nights ago when I watched the Evil Dead in the comfort of my own home, screaming so loud the cats fled. In a theater, you censor yourself. You don’t fully get the psychological experience. Maybe I’m curmudgeonly but I like my horror movies scary. Christ, I paid nine bucks for a ticket, ain’t nobody got time for ADD at a horror movie.
And so, after yesterday, I learned that when it comes to watching scary movies I’m better off staying home. Home. All alone. With my couch, dim lights, and no human contact.
Isn’t this how a horror movie begins?