I went to the movies tonight with a couple of my friends to partake in 8 Films to Die For — After Dark Horrorfest. Basically, it’s eight lesser known (lower budgeted) horror films making a run this weekend.
We caught Penny Dreadful (which SUCKED) and The Abandoned (which was not bad, but too long).
But this isn’t about the films.
This about the idiots that go to the movies, and why they have to always sit behind me.
Why do some people (in particular, teenagers) get confused when they go to the movies and think they are really at home? The last two times I’ve gone to the movies, including this time, I’ve had some knucklehead girls behind me using their playground voice to discuss the happenings on the film.
So, as I’m trying to watch The Abandoned, I’m hearing giggling behind me. And chatter. Mindless, irrelevant, teenage girl chatter. Blech.
At one particular part in the film, the character is getting on a boat. I knew this not only because it was on the screen, but Chatty Cathy behind me said, “She’s getting on the boat.” That is what it was like.
Finally, I turned around and looked at them. “Hey,” I said, “I know you are into the film, but I really don’t need a blow by blow on what’s going on the screen.”
“Huh?” One of the rocket scientists asked.
“Could you quiet down?”
The girls kind of slunk in their chair. “Oh, sorry,” one said. A little meekly. I almost felt bad. Almost, but not really. Because, shit, if their parents aren’t going to train them how to act in a public theater, someone has to. I’m hoping I did the next person who sits in front of them in the theater a favor.
There was a dude with them, too. I was mildly concerned he would raise a ruckus for me telling his women to quiet down, but he didn’t say a word. Not because he was scared of me — I won’t even act like I’m Tough Tony. I think it was because I did something that he probably wanted to do the entire movie, but he didn’t want to look like the bad guy. I can live with looking like the bad guy in situations like this.
Because the rest of the film was sweet silence.