On the other hand, going to the movies involves dealing with other human beings, and at times, that can be a tremendously unpleasant experience. While you’re deeply engaged in the plot of the film, wondering whether or not the attractive but estranged lovers on screen are going to get together before the credits roll, there are other people in the audience who seem like they are on a mission to make this experience more annoying than teaching kindergarten. People like…
Like a baby breaking into Daddy’s gun collection, these kids, through the miracle of puberty, just stumbled upon a great power that they are hilariously unqualified to wield. Their hormones are raging like a wild grizzly bear in an orphanage, transforming what was once a generation of cheerful and wide-eyed youths into an army of sexually interested but sexually inexperienced monsters with all the restraint of monkeys at a zoo (there’s a reason why the floors of most movie theaters are sticky).
The guys are armed with three inch long erections that they haven’t learned to conceal yet, and the girls are armed with Mommy and Daddy’s credit card. Together, they are going to try to turn the movie theater into their own private make-out booth, while the friends they brought along for the show giggle at every little thing on the screen like a pack of hippies. Even if it’s a film about the Holocaust.
Usually, we’ve got movies like Meet the Spartans and Vampires Suck to draw them away from more subtle and intelligent fare, like Inception or motherfuckin’ Predators, baby. However, these kids don’t really care what they are watching, they just want a place to kiss and maybe get a little over-the-shirt booby touching in there. Don’t be surprised if you run into them from time to time.
With old age comes many irritating traits: poor driving, a grumpy attitude, that awful smell, etc. In regards to the movie theater, old age often manifests itself as a need to comment on everything that occurs on screen, in case the rest of the audience missed some of the subtleties. Personally, I would have never figured out that Bruce Willis was dead at the end of The Sixth Sense unless that eighty-five year old woman sitting behind me said “Oh, wow, he’s a ghost too. That man who shot him in at the beginning must have killed him.”
Bravo, my dear. I’m just surprised you can even remember that far back. Good for you.
We’ve all had to sit in front of an elderly couple at the movies at some point in our lives, listening as they provide their own commentary track to the film. The worst part about it, however, is that, although we’re often willing to march over to the middle-schoolers and let them know that if they don’t shut the fuck up, we will shit in their slushie and piss in their popcorn, the urge to behave such way around old people is countered by the fact that we want to respect our elders. Who knows, before they were ruining The Hangover (why were they seeing that movie anyway???) by talking about how the plot reminded them of their own trips to Vegas, maybe they actually did something important in their lives, and I, for one, am not going to tell a possible former veteran that he’d better “shut his damn mouth before I give his old lady Alzeheimer’s.”
Want to spot a child that was most definitely unplanned? Go to a decidedly adult comedy (I’d recommend The Other Guys at this point), take your seat, and wait for a young father to mosey in with an over-excited little kid in tow. The little kid is excited about the fact that he is going to see a big boy movie, and the father doesn’t get excited about much these days except for the gentle embrace of booze-induced sleep, but dammit, he wanted to see this movie and his job at Taco Bell simply doesn’t pay for babysitters.
It’s kind of an odd pairing, though. The father is too burnt out from shipping his little bundle of joy (aka what you get when you’re drunk and think, “screw condoms”) to laugh at anything in the movie, whereas the kid is too clueless to get the humor, thus laughing at every single scene without judgment. He knows enough that it’s a comedy, so he figures he’s supposed to laugh. Occasionally, he’ll get up from his seat and run up and down the aisles like he’s having some sort of seizure, and I can only wish you the best of luck if he’s sitting behind you. Enjoy your vibrating chair, because he’ll be kicking it ALL NIGHT.
On the plus side, with all that running and kicking, maybe he has a future in soccer.
I go to the movies to be entertained by the movie. I don’t need any of my fellow audience-members to add their own special brand of humor. When I see Snakes on a Plane, I don’t need someone in the back row shouting “Aw, here it goes!” when Keenan shows up on screen. If he wants to be a stand-up comedian, perfect, there are open mic nights for that kind of thing. Hell, I might even appreciate his wit and clever references to 90s kiddie sketch shows if we were discussing the movie after watching it. But seriously, during the film itself, no one cares about you or what you have to say.
“No talking during the movies” doesn’t mean “no talking during the move unless you think what you are about to say is hilarious.” It just means “no talking or I will steal your driver’s license, find out where you live, and murder your family in a slow and painful manner that involves a paint roller, gasoline, and a porcupine.”
That’ll show ‘em.