I have an important safety tip for you, right up there with “no running with chainsaws,” and it is this: When you go to the theater this holiday weekend, do not talk loudly during the movie. Otherwise, trust me, there will be an explosion, and not the patriotic kind.
I’m a very calm person. I don’t run other drivers into overpass supports no matter how close they came to clipping my bumper when their cell phone slipped and fell in their mocha grande. People who cut in front of me in a line might get a silent hmph. Pushy salespeople get laughed at, and telemarketers get gently mocked. Life is too short to get angry with people for being people.
Except in the movie theater. There I demand a certain level of respect for others and I get steamed if it doesn’t happen, to the point where I begin to seriously consider gunfire. With a silencer, of course, so as not to cause a disturbance. And there are many others sitting around me that agree. Mob justice is always simmering just under the surface in a movie theater.
I handed over a significant portion of my paycheck just to get in the theater, and gave up the rest for my snacks, all for the opportunity to sit in the dark and get lost in someone else’s world. I didn’t pay to hear someone behind me talk about their operation at a conversational volume that would distract the drivers during a truck rally.
And I’ve paid my dues. After I add up all the hours I’ve spent in the bathroom waiting for my coughing or sneezing or hiccoughs to subside, all the exciting, dramatic, or hilarious scenes missed while pacing with crying children, and all the calls lost because my cell was turned off, I feel I’ve earned interruption-free movies for the rest of my life.
I’m not asking for absolute silence. If someone near me is talking loudly I might throw a glance over my shoulder or issue a surgical shush. For the long-winded moviegoer — the booming whisperer who feels compelled to proclaim what’s coming up a split-second before it happens — I’ll turn in my seat and just watch them instead while I eat my popcorn. Or I’ll stand in front of them and offer to let them see the movie if they’ll let me hear it.
The determined annoyances are more of a problem. Those would be your young kids, your drunken teens, your “I bought my ticket and I’ll do what I please” people. They’re out for attention and polite nudges do no good at all. Calling the usher is almost guaranteed to result in an even louder scene and more movie missed.
My suggestion? Well, there’s some legal hassle involved with ejection seats, electric shocks, and tranquilizer guns, and expanding foam doesn’t solidify fast enough to be useful. I think we should take a hint from reality TV and make dealing with problem patrons a group effort. If someone acts up, the rest of us should be able to vote him or her out of the theater.
Put keypads on each armrest. Once the boor begins broadcasting his movie trivia during the love scene, punch in his seat number to focus a tight spotlight on him. Maybe make it a cumulative effect, so that the light gets brighter as more people complain. With any luck the paranoia caused by sitting in a bright light in a dark room full of angry people will encourage politeness.
If not, at least the ushers will be able to see them clearly enough to hit them with their tranquilizer guns.