When I watch a film I want to be engrossed in it. I mean completely caught up and immersed, and that involves absolute silence outside of the sound of the film itself and no distractions. If the director had wanted me to hear someone rustling popcorn, he’d have added it to the soundtrack. When I watch a new film at home the lights get turned off, the dog gets kicked out and the volume goes through the roof. There will be no external noise until the end credits. Luckily (for both of us) my wife is on-board with this. Sadly, none of the cinema going public is.
Why do people spend the money to go to the cinema only to chat through a movie? It’s a genuine question as I really can’t work it out. Go to the bloody pub; it’s a place designed especially for socialising and the money you spent on the cinema ticket will pay for your drinks! If you don’t like that idea then stay at home. You can talk as loudly as you like and it won’t cost you a penny. Idiots.
I have, in my time, asked many people in cinemas to stop talking. In fact I went through a stage where it happened more often than not. I was particularly impressed when my wife did it on three consecutive visits. I once went to see The Thin Red Line with an ex-girlfriend. Anyone who’s seen it will probably have been impressed with the choreography and beautiful sweeping shots which, for a war film, might be considered unusual. (It was nominated for the Best Cinematography Oscar.) I think the pensioners in front of me thought they’d come to watch something different, but that didn’t stop them “ooohhh”ing and “ahhh”ing every five minutes. It didn’t take long for me to ask (politely) if they could refrain from talking. And they did. My girlfriend? Furious. Apparently they had paid money and should be allowed to enjoy the film however they like. If I didn’t like then I should have moved. She was obviously unaware that purchasing a ticket doesn’t give carte blanche rights to ruin everyone else’s experience. Anyway, I think she’d have changed her tune if I’d flopped my tackle out and starting rubbing myself off the next time Kate Beckinsale appeared in a film, but the principle’s the same.
When the new Star Wars film came out I heard about a guy in America who purchased all the tickets to one showing. He had the entire cinema to himself. He was ridiculed online and people were making comments about how the atmosphere is the best thing. Yes, it is, but I want the FILM's atmosphere, not a bunch of imbeciles whooping and hollering at the screen and ruining the movie's ambiance. If I'd had the cash, I'd have done exactly the same thing.
Another ex-girlfriend went with me to watch The Usual Suspects, a truly brilliant movie. I was captivated and she was bored. Not only was she bored but she didn’t have a watch. This meant she grabbed my wrist every five minutes to check the time. I still believe to this day I’d have been well within my rights to punch her in the face.
Having the back of your chair kicked constantly is never much fun and I’m sure most of you will agree with me there. I know there’s not much legroom but do you really want someone’s sized eleven, muddy, Doc Martins tapping away an inch from your shoulder? No, me neither.
Tall people can’t help being tall but that’s no excuse for an eight foot basketball player to study an empty cinema before deciding the seat he wants is right in front of me. If it happens again I might take some scissors and start cutting his hair so I can see around him. I went to a great screen, many years ago, in Slough (I knew the place must have had at least one thing going for it). It was so steeply raked that a giraffe sitting in front of a midget wouldn’t have blocked his view. Honestly though, it was so steep that after a long film I got up too quickly and nearly pitched forwards. I’d have ended up five rows closer to the screen with a broken collarbone and a tub of popcorn on my head.
I briefly mentioned the eaters but I didn’t do it justice. To be honest I’d be happy if they banned eating in the cinema. It’s not going to happen, obviously, as that’s where cinemas make the most of their money. I’d be happy with a compromise though (i.e. only allowing the sale of items which it’s impossible to make a distracting noise with). People with popcorn seem incapable of picking pieces up and eating them, they need to rustle around continually, seemingly searching for the perfectly formed corn. They’re not as bad as the people who chose the individually wrapped sweets from the foyer shop though. Excellent. Not only do they rustle the bag around (“Eww. I don’t like the yellow ones!”) they also make a racket while they’re unwrapping each bloody sweet. A woman at a recent showing did this and then proceeded to continue folding the empty sweet wrappers in the dark, like some origami Jedi. I almost stabbed her in the eye with the straw from my drink. Yes, much of this links back to my misophonia but I'm not taking the blame for people interrupting me while I'm consciously trying to listen to something that I've paid for.
Finally, yes, you guessed it; children. Film studios have cottoned on to the fact that if they keep the certificate rating low more people will see it, because it’s open to a wider audience. Gone are the days of the 80s when all action films were 18-rated. Now they all seem to be 15 or, worse, 12A. This means you have to go at midnight (and contend with possible drunks) or else risk the wrath of a gazillion noisy kids. I went to see Casino Royale at the cinema, Daniel Craig’s excellent first outing as Bond. The film was rated 12A. Sat next to us with a bloke (who was obviously too tight to fork out for a baby-sitter) and two bored kids. The film’s almost two and a half hours long and they spent most of it getting up, sitting down, talking and rolling around on the floor under the screen. The benefit of dealing with small children is that after I asked them to pack it in and shot them a stern gaze they didn’t make a sound. Give it a couple of years and they'd probably have knifed me. Meanwhile, their dad was unaware, the ignoramus.
I hate all these complaints, with a passion, and yet it’s not (quite) enough to keep me away.
