Itching and scratching at the movies

First, an admission: I'm not the sort of person who gets super-excited about opening days for movies. When I was younger, sure, but either I developed patience or I accepted my inner misanthrope and couldn't handle the crowds and waiting in long lines. That's not suggesting I don't experience some sense of anticipation when a movie is coming out that I am interested in seeing, but I don't need to go to see it the minute it starts, or even see it opening weekend; I figure it's still the same movie the next weekend.

Doug, you're not really a movie fan, some of you are thinking.

Yep. I enjoy some movies—many movies, certainly—but I am not a devotee of the medium.

I have noticed, however, that there may be something to the movie-going experience that can affect one's enjoyment of the film itself. As annoying as the crowds are, a comedy seems funnier when a room full of people are laughing than when one is in a mostly empty room and feeling a bit self-conscious about laughing too loud; an action movie seems more exciting when the crowd cheers the hero triumphant over the bad guy.

That is undoubtedly why people stand in line for hours to see the midnight shows. It's not merely that they are super-excited to see the movie (which may or may not live up to the hype); the experience is enhanced by being surrounded by like-minded individuals. The people going to the Saturday evening showing may just be killing time because they couldn't think of anything else to do. (I know in my early 20s the group I hung with tended to go to movies as a default activity, whether we were really that interested in the movie or not.) Those people are the ones who are more likely to annoyingly talk during the film, clearly viewing the event primarily as a social outing rather than as collective entertainment. Which is all good and well for them, but makes for a less than ideal viewing experience if, oh, one came to actually watch the movie.

Case in point: My girlfriend and I saw The Departed well after its release, in a matinée at an upscale shopping mall theater (the only place nearby it was still playing). There were maybe 20 people in the place. And halfway through a quartet of silver-haired shoppers came in, sat down near where most of us were congregated, and proceeded to chat and laugh and pay no attention to the film. They rustled their shopping bags, broke out food, and utterly ignored shushing from pretty much everyone in the theater. And because they weren't teenagers, no one bothered to report them to ushers. We all just had to try to ignore them and enjoy the last half of the film, but I must conclude that my appreciation of the movie was adversely affected in a way that would not have happened if the decrepit foursome could have either shut the hell up or had the consideration to die.

They did further prove how sweet being old is going to be because one has carte blanche to not give a crap about anyone else, but as I'm not old enough to get away with that yet, it did nothing more than offer a glimpse into my delightfully cantankerous future. In the immediate, all they did was forever associate in my mind the film that would eventually win the Best Picture Oscar with their abjectly inconsiderate behavior.

In light of that any numerous others incidents in theaters, I concluded the only recourse seems to involve going to an overpriced theater, where the high ticket prices (although they're not that much higher than the other theaters these days) ward off the casual viewers—especially those with children. That, or stay up late and wait in the ridiculous lines for the midnight showings.

It may not be their fault that most of humanity sucks, but it can be annoying to have to go to such lengths to avoid them.


I told you that as a prelude to this: Sunday morning my girlfriend and I caught a 10:30 (yes, 10:30 am) showing of The Simpsons Movie. We were next to the Arclight anyway, so that's where we saw it. (It was important to help ensure it kicked Chuck & Larry out of the #1 box office slot.) Sure, the tickets were $14 (each), but there was no waiting in any lines. Not only does the theater have reserved seating, but the theater was not even remotely close to full. There were parents with younger children, but they were actually watching the movie.

(Despite the PG-13 rating, I'd say if you let your kids watch the show, there's nothing about the movie that should be that shocking to them.)

My assessment: I enjoyed the movie. Having been a Simpsons fan since 1989, I had little doubt I'd enjoy it. It was funny and well-done. If you like the show, you'll like the movie.

Ultimately, I left satisfied, glad I saw it, but it didn't make me think it was as clever as, say, when I first saw South Park: Bigger, Longer, & Uncut, but that's not what I expected; it was the same heart-warming satirical content I'd come to love over the past 18 years, on a wider screen. And I like that.

However, the non-even-half-full theater was not exactly filled with laughter at the jokes. I cannot help but wonder if I would have thought it even funnier had I been to a late-night showing in a theater filled with rabid fanatics.

Of course, those people can be scary…

So, it boils down to this: There is no ideal movie-going scenario. Or maybe I'm not enough of a fan to think there is.


Just as I tend to enjoy Simpsons episodes more when I see them in the syndicated reruns than I did when they first aired (the jokes have a certain nostalgia perhaps), I'm sure I'll think The Simpsons Movie even better later. When I see it on TV.

~

Something I don't need to wait to about: The lyrics to "Spider-Pig" makes me smile each time I think of them.

Spider-Pig, Spider-Pig
Does whatever a Spider-Pig does
Can he spin from a web?
No, he can't
He's a pig
There goes the Spider-Pig