All right, if we're gonna share war-stories and show scars of bad movie-going experiences, try this on for size:
We're going to go see We Were Soldiers, which is just about as dark and brooding and serious movie as they come. My house mates and I all agree on the jerkometer running pretty high at our local cinemas, so we chose a late showing to cut out the 13-year old texting crowd.
What we got instead was a serious dose of the drunken man crowd. Squared.
We get there and find our seats somewhere in the middle of the cinema; optimal position to take advantage of the sound system. And then, during the opening credits, the doors spring open and a guy and his girlfriend walk in and start looking for seats, two three rows in front of us. It takes them 3-4 minutes to choose seats because the girlfriend isn't happy about something-or-other.
They finally sit down, and my Canadian friend (who like most North Americans tell people when something annoys them as oppose to us coy Europeans) and I exchange glances and somehow can't help but suppress a smile. We already know this guy is going to ruin this movie and it's kinda ironic because we fought so hard to avoid it.
And then, a minute after the couple sit down, the guy starts talking to his girlfriend. In a regular voice, not even hushed. Three rows up my temperature gauge is slowly rising; pressure cooking, thinking "it's gonna blow ... it's gonna blow".
And then, the guy starts smoking. In a no-smoking theatre. Thin stream of silvery smoke curls up into view. The PSIs increase, my pulse rate increasing now, getting ready to do something, to shut the guy up, or shoot myself, or leave or just anything.
Fzzt! A beer is opened by the guy. Somehow this isn't suprising because we've been smelling beer for a while and the guy's speech is pretty slurred.
Right, I lean forward, and instead of starting at my usual "Excuse me, I'm really enjoying this movie but I find it hard to keep enjoying it with you talking. Could you possibly conduct your conversation outside of the theatre" I go straight to:
"Listen,
, why don't you just SHUT THE
UP!". It takes the guy a little while to register someone could have the audacity to speak to him. He turns around and says "well, what the
are you going to do about it?"
"Well", I reply, "right now nothing, but just shut the
up so I can watch the movie in peace".
That gets me pretty pumped up. I'm not usually this confrontational, but at least I have a few silent minutes to calm down and get back into the movie.
Then, the dickhead starts again. And then he drops his can of beer.
And then ... then, my Canadian friend just overheats and explodes. He jumps three row of seats (all empty, the cinema was pretty quiet except for this dickhead), so he's lying flat across three seats and then YELLS straight into the guys face:
"SHUT THE
UP! YOU'VE BEEN TOLD ONCE, AND NOW YOU'VE BEEN TOLD TWICE! IF WE'RE GOING TO TELL YOU THREE TIMES, IT'S GOING TO INVOLVE YOU GETTING HURT".
Despite being angry as well, the whole situation is just comical. My friend is lying sprawled across three rows of seats, his long slender body bending at the resting points like a sheet covering chairs in an empty house. He's literally screaming into the guys face, in the middle of the movie, his right hand either pointing into the guy's face like an angry teacher's or slapping an empty seat to underline his words. The guy's girlfriend has jumped out of her seat and is standing in their aisle looking like she has NO IDEA of what's going on.
And then, like an angry snake curling up after its first attack, my friend slithers back over the rows and assumes his normal viewing position next to me.
Might be funny now, but back then I was SO angry at this dickhead and ready for just about anything. Luckily the guy takes a hint, gets up and leaves while shouting obscenities our way.
When the movie was over we were all pretty certain the guy would be waiting outside, but it was all quiet, like nothing had ever happened.
That night, I decided the cinema sucked and I'd try to stay away from it.
