The outlandish prices of tickets and snacks? The insane length and amount of trailers you must endure? The tortuous commercials? (I paid to come to a movie, and now you're advertising to me?)
Or is it the boors in the theater who think that a movie theater is their own fucking living room? (Note: this may be you.I know, you think you're an angel at the Landmark; you're not. Please keep reading.) They talk throughout the movie, never daring to lower their voices to a minimal whisper, and/or talk incessantly.
The respectful thing to do when watching any performance-- live or filmed -- is to keep quiet. There's nothing wrong with an occasional, softly-whispered "What did he say?" But other than that, folks of all ages, keep the chatter to a bare, bare, minimum. Non-existent is best.
And I do say "folks of all ages" because, kind of like the creeps you see on "Dateline: To Catch A Predator," you can't classify these loud morons. They come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. My two worst:
- A Thursday night 2 summers ago, "Little Miss Sunshine," Landmark Century Cinema. You figure a weekday night crowd will be more tolerable than a Friday or Saturday night. You think wrong.
Seated to my right was an elderly couple, as old as my grandparents. This was the generation that had manners, right? "The Greatest Generation," as Tom Brokaw would say. Well, from my 101 minute experience, these two were The Rudest Generation.
They talked through the whole damn movie in what I would call the "water cooler voice." Not quiet at all. And what's worse, the husband was a "predictor." He would announce his guess on what would happen next to the whole audience.
(Spoiler Alert--Plot Points of "LMS" coming up) For instance:
- "Oh, he's going to take the moped and go to Albuquerque."
- "She's going to ask him about the suicide."
- "They're going to sneak the body out the window."
Their yakking was only compounded by the moment when everything comes together in the movie, and Gramma and Grampa Rude decided to open their plastic grocery bag and debate over which 100-calorie snack pack they should eat.
- During that awful turd that Judd Apatow dropped, "Movie About Fat, Ugly, Abusive Asshole who Knocks Up Lame Chick, and Yet She Loves Him," Davis Theater, god knows when.
Forgettable movie, unforgettable assholes seated next to me. Said assholes were a couple in their late 20s- mid30s. Every moment on the screen was punctuated by one Rude Lovebird sharing thoughts with the other Rude Lovebird, who would then continue stream of consciousness. Example:
Girl: [stoner character walks into frame] "That guy looks just like Dave!"
Guy: "I know!" [they giggle to each other] "Wouldn't it be funny if Dave wore shorts like that?"
Girl: "I know, we should ask him if he's seen this movie."
[2 seconds of silence pass, then:]
Guy: "Hey, should we call Dave and go out tomorrow?"
Girl: "Yeah, maybe, but we should see if Darcy wants to go with us?"
Guy: "Yeah, that would be cool."
Etiquette Bitch [leaning over and touching Rude Girl's arm]:
"I'm sorry, please stop talking."
Girl made a snotty face, but it sure as hell shut them up for the rest of that turd. Granted, it was a sucky movie, but I paid to hear the movie, not your rude ass yap away all night.
A movie theater -- hell, any public venue -- is not your living room. Look at your living room some time--and note how it does not resemble a movie theater. When you're in your living room, yak away.
Are you in a movie theater? Is it dark? Is a movie playing on the screen? If "yes" to any, shut the fuck up.