By Drew Dietsch
| Published
Movies are my favorite art form. Growing up, going to the movie theater was my most desired outing. I had more than a few birthday parties that were trips to the movies. The theatrical experience was and can still be a sacred experience for me, even as I begin to scale the ever-approaching peak of my Middle Age.
However, my last three outings to two different movie theaters have all involved a single sour moment that reminds me I’ve been spoiled with my movie screening history. It also makes me realize that I’m in a toxic relationship with movie theaters that I’ll never be able to leave.
I Love LA
I got to live in Los Angeles for a brief period in my life. During that time, I got to go to movie theaters with respectful audiences — my one true church on this planet is the New Beverly Cinema, but I also miss the Arclight Cinemas in Hollywood and Santa Monica R.I.P. — and have seen that such experiences are also available in major cities with a culture of art appreciation.
That’s no longer my living situation now. Instead, I’m in the position that most Americans are likely in when it comes to their movie theater experience selection: a bunch of crummy chains like AMC and Regal, a company I’ve worked for and can attest to their crumminess. There is at least one decent non-chain theater nearby, but even it fell victim to those sour notes I mentioned earlier.
The Movie Theater Incidents
Even though I review movies, I don’t get out to the movie theater a ton. The price of my ticket, travel, and any concessions comes out of my own pocket (I just get a drink these days) and it’s an expensive deal for someone with my living situation. So, the first movie I saw in theaters this year was Superman (my review). Everything was going great until the movie shut down midway. No one in the audience got up as the film image was turning off, so I had to be the one to inform the establishment. An annoyance but one that was easily corrected. Strike one.
The next film I saw was Eddington (hey look, another review!). This time, it was only myself and two older couples in the theater. Unfortunately, one of the women talked through the majority of the movie. I spoke up and said, “Excuse me, can you please stop talking?” and did not even receive the courtesy of a glance towards my direction. If anyone out there thinks it’s just kids and younger audience members ruining the movie theater experience, I’m here to tell you the retirement crowd is equally guilty.
My most recent movie theater sojourn was for Weapons (well gosh all hemlock, there’s a review for that, too!) and everything seemed okay until I arrived to find a young couple with one of them sitting in my selected seat. I wasn’t about to cause a scene since the theater wasn’t anywhere near full, so I simply sat in the open seat next to the seat I had chosen because the entire row was empty except for myself and this couple. The person next to me eventually got up and moved to the other seat beside their significant other, and it made me feel as if I was the one disturbing things for this person’s experience.
When, you know, I paid for that seat.
I Wish I Knew How To Quit You
Maybe all my movie theater outings from now on are doomed to feature some inconvenience that will remind me of how much I miss seeing movies in a theater under optimal circumstances. I hate going to the movies around here but I love the movies too much to go cold turkey. Plus, I need to see some new releases to make articles for this site.
As such, even though I’m likely to get burned in some way or another, I keep coming back to the theater. I know I’ll be back next month for The Long Walk, a Stephen King story I’ve been waiting to see adapted for decades. And when I go to see The Long Walk, I’m anticipating something will remind me why I hate how the movie theater treats me when all I want is to give it my love.
I’ll keep coming back even if it hurts me. …Or until I can go to a movie theater with an audience and exhibition that’s worth a damn.
