Friday, April 19, 2013

Getting Chatty at the Cinema: A Movie-Going Epidemic

The summer movie season is about to kick off in just two short weeks with the release of Iron Man 3, for which I am crazy pumped. As a movie junkie, I enjoy going to the theater year-round, but there’s just something so awesome about the summer movie season. It’s loud, it’s fun, it gets your fists pumping in the air during particularly action-y scenes (or is that just me?)… it’s a great time for movies. I like to have my brain challenged in the winter Oscar season, but I love to whoop it up with superheroes in the summer.

But as excited as I am, I’m facing a serious problem. Wait, a serious movie-goer problem. (Lest you all think I’m a privileged moron, I needed to clarify. I know there are far more dire things in the world than this.)

You see, going to the movies has always been one of my favorite life activities. Yes, of all of the amazing things that life offers us, sitting in a dark theater to watch a new release of cinematic art is one of the best. It’s magic for me.

I used to go to the movies weekly, at minimum. Back in the days when tickets were cheap, if I really liked a movie, I would see it 2, 3, even 6 times in theaters. I see fewer movies in theaters now; as ticket prices have more than doubled, I’ve become more selective over what I watch. But even so, I see a lot of movies.

But lately, the movie-going experience has been tarnished, and in some cases, ruined. You see, there used to be a universal respect for the theater and for those trying to experience the magic of the cinema. For the most part, people understood that you could talk during a movie at home, but you kept your mouth shut when you were in the theater—unless, of course, the scene called for some cheers or laughs.

There were always a few morons who broke that rule, sure, but they were rare exceptions. However, in the last year, those obnoxious idiots have gotten louder, and their movie-ruining powers have spread, creating an epidemic of jerks in theaters nationwide.

A few summers ago, during a screening of The Help, it was a dumb teenage girl who loudly proclaimed her stupidity in asking questions about every plot point in the movie. This past December, The Hobbit, a movie I have been looking forward to seeing for almost 10 years, was all but ruined for me by two teenage boys behind us who talked the entire time and a teenager nearby who decided the middle of the movie was the perfect time to do his Gollum impression.

Then it was the chatty family in Silver Linings Playbook, followed by the loudmouth teens in Oz The Great and Powerful. Oh, and let’s not forget the high schoolers who decided to announce the ending to The Hunger Games last year, before the movie had started. (I read the book, but there were plenty of people in the theater who hadn’t.)

Oh yeah, and the genius parents who came into our screening of Zero Dark Thirty halfway through the movie with two very small children in tow.

I don’t know why this problem has gotten so bad lately, but it makes my blood boil. Rather than enjoy the movie in peace, I’m sitting with my teeth clenched, trying to ignore the rude voices around me, but in fact being unable to hear anything but those voices.

Why don’t I just tell them to shut up? A few years ago, I might have. (Okay, let’s be real, I wouldn’t have… I hate confrontation. But I would have glared.) But teenagers who are rude enough to ruin a movie-going experience by talking are likely teenagers who would talk back or get confrontational. And honestly, after the horrific shootings in Aurora, Colorado last summer, I really don’t want to be the one to cause a scene in a movie theater.

Every time this happens, Rich and I leave the theater after the movie, and rather than talk about what we just watched, we both wind up ranting about how rude those miscreants were. And then we brainstorm solutions.

“Maybe we just need to move.”
“Throw popcorn at them?”
“I could go find an employee.”
“Do we just sit in the back row every time?”
“Maybe we try and see matinee screenings that are less crowded.”

Rich always comes around to the iPic Theater as his final solution. Oh, the iPic. It’s a glorious place, really. A fancy-pants theater just 30 miles away in Pasadena that boasts a restaurant and a swanky bar. The theater seats are recliners, set up in pairs with wide arm rests and slide-out tables. Each guest gets a pillow and a blanket and a free bag of popcorn, brought out by the attendee who stands in the back of the theater for the duration of the movie. There’s a little button on each armrest that you can press to order food or drinks.

It’s a delightful indulgence. And because the seats are far enough apart, you can’t hear your neighbors. Plus, the tickets are expensive enough to allow only the most respectful audience members.

Oh boy, are the tickets expensive. $24 per person. Ouch.

But where we live, it’s not that bad for the occasional splurge. Especially when evening screenings in regular theaters are $12 per ticket, doubling the price for all that you get really seems like a decent bargain. Is that snobbish to say? I don’t mean to sound that way. Trust me, I’m on a budget. But $12 plus a $5 bag of popcorn is getting close to the $24 that affords so much luxury.

It’s not a place to go for every movie, for sure. We’ve only gone once in the last year and a half. But the more annoyed we get at the movies, the more we talk about the iPic. We’ve both pretty much decided that for any MAJOR movie coming out that we’re dying to see, we should go to the iPic. This summer, I think we’ve narrowed it down to Iron Man 3, Star Trek, and Man of Steel.

The downside? You don’t get that packed-theater energy that comes with the opening day showing of a big blockbuster. You don’t get hundreds of cheers and laughs. The iPic seats roughly 40 people. It’s exclusive.

It’s also peaceful and stress free.

So, lose a bit of the magic but have a calmer experience, or go it the traditional way but risk having it ruined?

What’s the solution to reclaiming movie magic?

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