How Not To Be An Audience Member

"You're going to burn in a very special level of Hell. A level they reserve for child molesters... and people who talk at the theater."- Shepherd Book, "Firefly."

I have been to a great many movies in my time. One of my absolute favorite things to do. I love sitting in front of that screen and getting sucked into a story, another world. And nothing, absolutely nothing does more to ruin that experience than people who don't know how to shut up. It's one of the rudest things imaginable.
You're in an audience full of other people. For many of them it may be their one chance all week to relax and truly enjoy themselves. All they want is to sit there and be entertained, or moved. And what do you decide to do? You decide to chatter. To walk in and out of the theater repeatedly three people at a time and make sure that everyone else notices you. To text message throughout the movie, the light shining for everyone nearby to see. (JUST TURN THE PHONE OFF! Don't silence it, don't set it to vibrate. TURN. IT. OFF.) To make comments at full volume that no one actually wants to hear. To laugh at things that aren't even remotely funny. To laugh at things that aren't even unintentionally funny. To bring your baby to a movie that starts at 10:35...at night. A horror movie at 10:35...at night. And then when someone turns around and asks you to stop talking, what do you do? You look around at your friends and you look puzzled as to how anyone could possibly be annoyed by your constant chatter and utter disregard for anyone but yourself.
Absolutely every single example I just gave you occurred last night at the 10:35 PM screening of "Halloween" at the Marysville 14. The worst part is I'm not sure if it's the actual worst audience I've ever been in. My "X-Men 3" (also Marysville) and "Miami Vice" (Alderwood Mall) experiences are right up there too.
Throughout the film Justin and I stewed in silence, trying in vain to enjoy the movie (and what I saw of it was actually pretty good, surprisingly). At a certain point it just started to become comical. We'd been taken out of the movie so many times that it almost didn't seem to matter anymore. But then it started to get to me again. The guy behind us had walked in 20 minutes late and made sure to speak at full volume as he walked in and sat with his friends. He then had to make constant comments about who or what was happening on screen. It's like he was trying to impress people with his VAST knowledge of film. "That's Sheri Moon Zombie," he'd say. Or, "Oh, they can't kill her. She's the one who becomes Jamie Lee Curtis." Thank you, IMDB. I'm so glad that you could take human form and educate me while I'm watching it. Are they recording DVD commentary tracks in actual theatrical screenings now? With people who had absolutely nothing to do with the making of the film? I hope so 'cause you rock, man!
I finally did what I've never actually done before as an audience member. I stood up, turned around and said, "Can you stop talking please?" I sounded pretty mad but I was actually a lot more polite than I could have been or wanted to be. The reason I never do that is because you never know how a stranger is wired and I don't want to be pummeled for making a reasonable request to an unreasonable person. But this guy was different. He outnerded even me. I felt tough. After saying this he and his friends looked at one another utterly confused. They were all so shocked that someone didn't want to hear all of their clever and insightful remarks.
Justin turned to me, and like someone who actually cares about the people around him, even when they don't deserve it, whispered. "You wanna just go?"
"Yes," I said. And so we walked out. Quietly. Not sending text messages. Or pounding on the wall as we walked down the hallway. I could write a whole other one of these about snickering Seattle people at art house movies but I'll save that one for another day. My only hope is that Michael Myers actually stepped out of the screen and treated everyone in that audience the way he treated his on screen victims. Then maybe I can watch a movie in peace.
This has been a public service announcement.