Posted on: August 28th, 2010 The Worst Movie Screening Of My Life

I rarely go to movies opening night. I may go to a Thursday midnight showing if the crowd is right, or, if I absolutely can’t wait until Sunday or see it in advance, then and only then, will I break my rule.

I like a packed theatre. Ever since I saw Star Wars re-released on one screen in north east Calgary, I’ve been in love with the thought of a room full of hundreds of people, silent and lost, all entertained and spellbound by the giant screen in front of them. That type of social activity – let’s not kid anyone, movie-going is a social activity – has become a huge part of my life, my vitality and, based on how you’re reading this, my career. Films are very important to me, and I love it when it’s important to other people. Most of all, I love it when people enjoy movies, be it together, alone, at home or out at the multiplex.

So last night I get home from work a little earlier than normal. I’m feeling good that it’s the weekend. You see, I tend to work a lot. Ask anyone who knows me, I’m sure they’d concede that I work too much. But alas, I was feeling rewarding and decided holy heck, I’m gonna do something I never do, and go to the movies on opening night!

The first Friday and Saturday tends to bring out the talkers, you see, which is where my “no weekend” rule originated. Simply, I had too many bad experiences on a Friday or Saturday night, so instead of driving myself crazy, I endure a few days and see the film on a Sunday night or even better, Monday. But something in me threw caution to the wind last night and I headed out to my nearby theatre for the 7:20 screening of The Last Exorcism, a film I have been excited to see and has received pretty good reviews and word of mouth.

Everything was going great. I barely had to wait in line for tickets, I got the much coveted centre-middle seats, and I had plenty of time before the show. The theatre wasn’t even that busy, by the time the film started it was maybe 70% at best. So I did something I also rarely do, I went and bought a big bag of popcorn and a drink. Woah, did someone win the lottery? No. I was just feeling good about the weekend, about seeing a movie, and wanted to be positive and have a fun time with little things that I never do. I spend most of my movie-going excursions either lining up early for pre-screenings (which I now prefer over anything) or I’m taking in the film and planning my review late on a Monday night. What I was doing last night, was the essence of going to the movies. I wasn’t just doing it as a means to end the night. I wasn’t just going because it was something to do, a clockwork knee-jerk outing that it has become to so many. I went to the movies to be fucking entertained. I paid my earned dollar to sit in a chair with a cup-holder, eat mediocre popcorn by the handful and enjoy a film.

Why do I enjoy films? Is it because I have a passion and admiration for the art-form, and thrive on writing about it? Certainly. I’m sure I do have more invested than the average man or woman, though not by much, considering the amount of bank the film industry pulls in on a weekly basis. But the real reason I love movies, is because it is escapism for me. I enjoy them so much, that for those 90+ minutes, I’m not stressed. I can’t deal with my problems during that time, nor do I have to. I can just escape and enjoy and have fun, regardless of the film’s quality. It’s a no bullshit two hour pass.

So I’m in my seat, eating away at popcorn while completely dominating the rest of the audience at the on-screen movie trivia, mentally, when two girls, I’d guess aged 16, sit down in the seats behind me. I could hear them coming through the little walkway at the front of the theatre, as they apparently have no semblance of inside-voice. The movie wasn’t set to start for another fifteen minutes, and after about five minutes of talking from the girls behind me, I thought to myself why don’t I just move now and skip the unpleasantries should they decide to keep talking during the film. So I did, I grabbed my snacks and moved to rows down, to the middle-right aisle. Ahh. That was better. Much quieter and less people.

Crisis averted?

I think not.

The trailers start just as two couples, I’m guessing around age 18, take the row directly to my right. To paint a picture, it goes: me, empty seat, aisle, empty seat, fuck bags. They are talking loudly on their way to the seats, hell you would definitely consider this yelling, within the confines of a crowded theater. If you were in a grocery store, you would certainly hear them two aisles away. I don’t know whether or not they always chatter with such volume, or whether it was a sexual “I’m trying to impress the opposite sex and my Tap Out shirt isn’t sealing the deal” thing. Quite frankly, I didn’t care. But reasonably, I can’t do anything about it, the trailers are not the feature, no matter how much I love that part of the experience. For the record, I can make out every word they are saying, crystal clear. This is not a case of the whisper-humms, which are still equally as distracting and unacceptable.

A little jingle, a familiar tune plays and an animation marks the countdown to the feature. Please deposit all refuse when leaving the theater. Please no talking. Please turn your cell phone off. Please no texting. Enjoy the movie.

The row to my right, let’s call them  ”They!”, continued to talk, seemingly without pause, and not in intervals. It was like The View with loud, obnoxious, hormonally off-balanced and horny under-achievers. Hey, I remember what it was like being young. I don’t remember what it was like to be a fucking douchebag, though I’m confident in my ability to smoke them out.

The Last Exorcism doesn’t really have much of a score, and it’s non-existent in the film’s opening scenes. They! continue talking and laughing and making noises (Pokemon noises perhaps? Yu-Gi-Oh? MMA?) at such volume, that I skip the three strikes and you’re shushed rule and head straight for the shush. as I shushed, I noticed the row behind me, and behind They! to be glaring at the offenders. It’s clear now that I’m the cinema sheriff. Great.

So I shush. It wasn’t an aggressive shush, but rather a hey guys, can you please keep it down and thank you shush, if there were such a shush. My warning missile has gone unheeded. The discussion continues, now at seemingly higher decibels, though I know they heard me, as the more demure of the two trollops echoed a faint shush at her male companion. I don’t remember exactly what they were saying, but I’m certain it wasn’t relevant to the film.

Five or so more minutes go by. They maintain the scene. I shush once more. This was not a precautionary shush. This was a fuck shush. I think after the second shush, the fuck shush, they simply chose to ignore me. This is good, as now I know something. I know that they simply aren’t ignorant. They! are disrespectful little shits. And loud too, the worst kind of shits.

This continues for about fifteen minutes. And fifteen minutes is a long time in a movie. By now we’re about 35 or 40 minutes into the film, well underway in its story, when I deploy my first verbal attack. I always hate having to tell people to stop talking. It’s an absolute last resort for me. I prefer the quick lean and stare first, but that doesn’t always get their attention. Then I’ll fall back on a precise shush, so not to disturb the rest of the theatre. In the case of The Last Exorcism, I am without doubt that the entire theatre could hear They!. Scientifically, unless you were Helen Keller, no seat in auditorium 8 was exempt from disturbance. So I do the lean and stare, then I pop with a whisper. I didn’t yell, nor did I talk. It was a whisper so sharp, so minute, that it cut like a razor, and they heard it.

Shut up.

Their continuing discussion –  readers, I’m being dead serious, this was louder than food court appropriate volume – halts for a brief second and they snap their necks left to see me, a dark figure with a mean lean. The two girls, be it in a mocking way or an ape-like monkey-see-monkey-do way, barrage the boys with arrogant shushes. Mocking shushes. They might as well have yelled like, omigod Craig totally be quiet this is so embarassing but I love the attention.

I can hear people behind me moving to stare at the row. I’m not worried about my status in the theatre, though at this point I’m wondering why the hell anyone else hasn’t stepped up to back their valiant, yet nervous, sheriff. It takes a lot for me to confront someone, even in the dark anonymity of a movie theatre. I don’t like it. I hate it. I don’t take any joy in it whatsoever, and usually it’s when I’m pushed to my limits that I actually do something about it. My heart was pounding so hard at this point, I wondered if the whole row could feel it. Untz, untz, untz, like a bad techno song pumping through my popcorn buttered arteries.

The commentary from They! gets louder and more abrasive. They! don’t like the movie. They! are critics.

Yo, this movie sucks balls.

When is this shit gonna get scary?

[Insert more irrelevant, crude commentary here]

This is killing me. At this point I’m no longer invested in the movie. I can’t enjoy it. It seems like a good film, and I really want to be in it, but I can’t. And not because I’m so out of control with my anger, but because watching the film was akin to watching The English Patient during a Li’l Jon concert. I don’t know what kept me going. Maybe it was denial. Maybe it was the yearning I had an hour early to escape on a Friday night. But I tried. And they continued to try my patience.

Two of the offenders said fuck this, quite audibly, and left. While the remaining two maintained their conversation, it was at half-volume now. See, they had no one to impress, and like Paul Walker, their voice only gets deeper and louder in the presence of other males. Competition and bravado. The cheesiest of machismo. I tried to soldier through. It was a real shame, as I’m sure under normal circumstance I would really dig the film. A few minutes later my heart sank, as They! part 1 of 2, returned, beginning their discussion with their accomplices before they even arrived at their seats.

Yo, does this movie still suck?

[Yo, insert more unfathomable shit uttered in a movie theatre here]

We were all right back where we started. I could feel the tension in the audience. This was not just me. No one else dared to speak up, however. Fast forward another 5 or 10 minutes – at this point it’s about an hour into the film, and the S is starting to hit the F onscreen – and They! are laughing, yelling, making movie commentary and talking about what they’re doing after the movie, the terrible movie that they’re wasting their time on. I decide to give it one last go. As I do it, I think I hear another audience member shush them, though I can’t be sure. I was seeing blood red. Still a whisper, and in the most respectful way to my fellow movie-goers:

Guys, will you shut the fuck up?!

They turn and look, and without hesitation, one of the girls of They! yells back:

Fuck you.

I’m confused. Fuck me?

I sat back in my seat, totally removed from the theatre. Totally removed from Earth as I tried to collect myself and figure out what exactly was happening. Am I crazy? Is this actually a Halloween screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show? Am I in fact at Mardi Gras or perhaps a UFC pay-per-view event? I needed to be sure, to save myself the embarrassment of not knowing where I was, who I was with, or the social norms of the situation.

Wait, no… I’m quite sure I’m at an early screening of a movie on a Friday night. Never mind. If a cat were in my presence and I were making out with it, that cat would literally have my tongue, but for now let’s stick figuratively. I was speechless. They were not. One of They! made a funny and the four of them guffawed like the drunk on Hee Haw (wait, weren’t they all drunk?). They yelled and talked and talked some more. I had it.

I got up and I left. I had absolutely no desire to be in that theatre anymore. I was completely removed from the film, my daring evening of entertainment now a faint and unattainable memory. I would not subject myself to such savagery for one more second.

So I did the obvious and complained to the manager. Surprisingly he asked me where they were seated, and I told him, with the accuracy of a Swedish engineer. He left and returned three minutes later with a couple of passes to see the movie again. I was gracious, though I expected a refund, but the manager need not incur my wrath. I’m not the type of cat to chew out anyone in the service industry, and am always respectful to those serving me. Truth be told I miss the old days, when an usher would periodically squash any talkers or flash a light on those treating the seats like a la-z-boy. And honestly, as I told him about They!, I could tell he really didn’t give a fuck, and I resented him for that.  But I said my thank you and went home, a crushed, defeated man.

I’ve addressed movie etiquette before, at great lengths, and I’m not going to rehash that article or rant on like a broken record. People will always talk during movies, and they will always be scum. It will always be inappropriate and unreasonable and unacceptable, there is no changing it, nor is there a second to debate it.

I am, however, going to take a new approach this time around. If you are in a movie theatre and you witness what I did, or any talking or cell phone usage for that matter, do something about it. Don’t be complacent. You spent money to enjoy that film, don’t let someone take it from you. Be responsible. Take action. Don’t tolerate it. Obviously an animation and some words before a movie aren’t doing anything, they haven’t for almost as long as I’ve lived and breathed movies. So step up, protect your investment and say no.

We can’t tolerate this anymore. It kills me, as a film lover and writer, to see this kind of thing happen, and it kills me even more to say that I’ll never step foot in a theatre on a weekend again. And for what? Ignorant, disrespectful people who know better.

Learn to shush.

And to Eli Roth and the rest of the cast and crew of The Last Exorcism, it seemed you have a great movie on your hands. I look forward to seeing the second half.

On a Monday night.

13 Responses to “The Worst Movie Screening Of My Life”

1. Kiaran Says:
   August 28th, 2010 at 11:15 am

   Not sure how I’d respond to a “fuck you” from some punk brats… could have gotten ugly. But you did the right thing by getting out of there before things got physical (where else could it go after all that?).

   Just too bad these shiny-shirt retards didn’t get kicked out.

2. Heather Says:
   August 28th, 2010 at 11:28 am

   More and more, I think my decision to move to Zip and rent movies was the right one. I miss the feeling of being in the theatre with a bunch of people – the audience breaking into applause on the opening night of Serenity is something I loved – but I don’t miss the sticky floors, the cell phone cameras, and the talkers.

   And I make my own popcorn, yo.

3. Ben Rankel Says:
   August 28th, 2010 at 11:43 am

   Ryan, sorry for your bad experience in the theatre. I love the way you write though, and you pulled me right into the theatre with you; I felt the furry and wanted to join in as a deputy to your show-time sheriff. Alas, I could not.

   If we want to look at the bright side of this – at least you got a great article out of the experience.

4. Byron McIsaac Says:
   August 28th, 2010 at 12:12 pm

   Great article Ryan! Karma will dictate that these slant-browed MST3K wannabes will be in a movie that They! want to see and someone else will be cracking wise and talking during the movie and I hope that I’m there to see it all go down…

5. dale Says:
   August 28th, 2010 at 10:30 pm

   Wow. That kept going and going and going… and I read the whole thing! I’ve given up hope on going to the theater all together because of people like this. I’ve honestly never had it that bad, but the texting, talking, seat kicking, onslaught of commercials before the commercials and ever increasing gouging from the theater has broken my spirit.

   I basically will only go to a movie now if it’s at the Princess, Uptown or Globe. At least there I know the crowd has shown up for the show and not to kill some time before something ‘totally bitchin’ happens.

   That means I’m always behind on seeing the latest blockbusters but after a while I’ve stopped worrying about that.

   God Damn teenagers! *shakes fist*

   This city (or everywhere in fact) needs a licensed theater, like the The Alamo Drafthouse down in Austin. No kids, strict no talking rules. There’s your next gig! Your own adults only oasis!

6. Ryan Ferrier Says:
   August 28th, 2010 at 10:36 pm

   Totally hear you, Dale. And I would give my nut for an Alamo here. It’s my dream destination. I’ve got near a dozen framed prints from the Alamo on my walls, and a few t-shirts. I’m an Alamo fanboy and I’ve never even been. But THAT is what every town needs. It’s sad when all we really ask is for peace and quiet during a movie.

7. Dalyn Says:
   August 29th, 2010 at 8:40 pm

   I watched the movie in peace and quiet (at the Alamo, no less), and while your experience sucked, at least you had an experience that got your heart pumping and blood boiling. Unless amateur contortionists freak you out, Last Exorcism was an un-scary snooze-a-thon.

8. dale Says:
   August 30th, 2010 at 8:53 am

   Another thing that’s disheartening about this is that theatres have allowed this behaviour to go on for some time now. Not just this situation, but the general feeling people have towards going to the movies is they have to put up with some jackass ruining things for everyone else.

   I don’t think the answer is to put in some narc to tattle on someone talking during the movie, but the theatres needs to crack down on excessive inconsiderate behaviour. They’ve been asking more from us in ticket prices and we’ve been putting up with worse experiences over the years.

9. Dalyn Says:
   August 30th, 2010 at 11:54 am

   I honestly don’t know why more people in other cities haven’t taken up the Alamo model and started their own local theater that enforces an age restriction and absolutely does not tolerate talking during a movie. Hell, you wouldn’t even have to sell beer and overpriced food (can I just get some normal ass nachos or greasy burger please). I think with those rules alone you would get more people out to the theaters. The only time I dare go to a non Alamo theater is if it’s the local art house joint where talkers usually don’t go anyways.

10. Dalyn Says:
    August 30th, 2010 at 11:55 am

    Hell, forget people starting theaters, why haven’t existing chains starting enforcing this policy? Are they too chickenshit to tell someone to pipe down or leave?

11. David Says:
    August 31st, 2010 at 7:48 am

    This pretty well sums up why i don’t go to the theatre and haven’t in a very long time. It brings out theatre-rage and it just isn’t worth it when television sets are getting big enough to offer a half-@$$ed moviegoing experience.
    Which beats the hell out of having to deal with idiots.

12. Byron McIsaac Says:
    August 31st, 2010 at 7:07 pm

    you know Ryan, there IS a way to get an Alamo Drafthouse here. They do have franchising options……hmms

13. Meg w Says:
    September 14th, 2010 at 4:40 am

    Wow Ryan, you are far far nicer than I am.
    You tolerated that shit FAR longer than I would have. I’m really shy, so I also really really hate having to be the shusher but: If they are talking 10 min into the movie they get a shush. 5 min more and its a ’some what louder so that ‘they’ and everyone else around hears it, but still whispered SHUT UP’ this achieves 2 things: It tells them to shut up, but also encourages others around them to join in on the shushing. Another 5 min and I try to get them kicked out.

    In theatres in Calgary it seems you only get a refund within the first half hour, so that’s why you didn’t get one. With my model, I get to leave pre-refund cut-off, I get to ask that they be removed from the theatre, or I want my money back. I’m also not in the business of yelling at service personnel, but I find if you go the route of “hey I know your job sucks, so can you please make your evening more interesting by kicking out some douchebags who were probably rude to you on their way in” its works a lot better.

    Maybe Im too intolerant about movie talking. i don’t know.. now I just have to look at my husband during the opening credits and say, audibly, “if you dont tell them to SHUT UP, I will.”

    did you end up seeing the rest of the film? was it any good?

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