In keeping with pretty much every science fiction fan in the world right about now, I would love to talk a little about the newest Star Wars flick, Revenge of the Sith. I would love to venture opinions, air speculation and even give some insight into the “ooohs”, “ahhs” and OMG moments the film offered me. Okay, it wouldn’t really do much to set me apart from hundreds, nay thousands of other bloggers out there, but it’s a common experience, shared by us all and I would love to join in.
Unfortunately, I can’t. What I am going to talk about today is something far more unpleasant, annoying and downright rude. The topic that has hijacked my attention is this: people who talk in cinemas.
Now, right off the bat I should probably admit that in the course of this little digression I am likely to sound a little intolerant. I might even, if you are in a particularly sunny mood as you read this, sound a bit misanthropic. I should also admit that I sometimes talk in movies, but strictly only sotto voce and only occasionally. The barest whisper to the person next to me once or twice during a movie does not compare to what I was forced to endure on Friday night.
Though they weren’t actually part of the problem for me, we had a young family sitting in front of us in the cinema, and the kids of that young family talked through the film. However, I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. They’re kids, they were excited, and they were relatively quiet. Also, they were talking about the film so I can at least see the causal link. I am all for kids getting excited and carried away because, let’s face it, we all know that in adulthood there is plenty enough times when you won’t be allowed to get excited and will have to be quiet, reserved and grown up, so kids should grab all the excitement they can in those chubby little mitts and wring it for all it’s worth.
The kids, to be absolutely clear, were not the problem. I only mention these youngsters to create an effective contrast with the actual source of the problem I have with that night at the movies, so please any parents out there, don’t come looking for me with a blunt instrument and dark side thoughts of your own, I’m on your side, really. Honest. Seriously. Go kids. Wooo.
So, the kids in front of me, not a problem. A bit noisy, but understandable and so, could be tuned out without much bother. However, the people behind me were adults, and yet seemed intent on talking about anything except the movie in front of them. They didn’t seem to like the battle scenes and long lightsabre fights just seemed to bore them, so they chatted a lot during such scenes. About anything. His mum coming over to dinner. Her seat being a bit uncomfortable. Haydn Christensen looking good but not being much of an actor (at least one comment about the movie – hooray!). Did she want some popcorn? He was thirsty. She wanted sweet popcorn, not salted. And on and on and on the whole grisly affair went, with everything from post-war economics to physics apparently up for discussion. I glared. I “Shhhhh”-ed several times. I glared again. Nothing.
I have to ask the question – if battle scenes apparently bore you enough to start idle conversation, and lightsaber fights don’t do it for you, why in the hell do you come to watch a Star Wars film? Did they think that episode III would mark Lucas’ departure from the storytelling form that had made episodes I, II and IV-VI such a success? Did they perhaps think this chapter of the Star Wars saga would be a thoughtful, incisive arthouse flick, shot in daring black and white with some animated sections drawn in pale pastels? Something perhaps with a soundtrack that featured Bach, Mozart and Portishead? Did they imagine that the movie would preach a doctrine of peace over war and feature long scenes of the Republic sitting at the negotiating table with the Seperatist Council? “Well Viceroy Gunray, that’s all well and good, but if we could turn to page seven hundred of the proposed peace treaty, I would like some clarification about sector boundaries in contested areas, so we can then clarify exchange rates across areas of influence…”. I mean, come on.
Then we had the people to the left, who timed each rustle of their bag of crisps (chips, for those of you waaaay over there) to coincide almost exactly with every line of dialogue. And the people in the front row who thought that the little advert at the start of the movie saying turn off your damn mobile phone couldn’t possibly have applied to them because they’re obviously a special case and couldn’t we all see that? No, all we could see was your damn screen flashing on and off as you texted your mates throughout the whole damn film.
All in all, by the end of the movie I was in the strange position of actually having enjoyed the film, but having fallen out of love with the whole experience of going to the movies. I knew the opening weekend of a Star Wars flick was going to be busy, I knew there were going to be lots of people around and the cinema was, therefore, likely to be a lot busier and noisier than usual. I just wasn’t expecting quite so much annoyance as I got. Maybe I’m spoiled by DVDs and the ability to sit at home and enjoy a movie in peace. Maybe I am just a misanthropic old man shaking his fist at the world. Maybe.
Or maybe just maybe, I’m right.
Nah. Pass the popcorn would you? Oh, and the bottle of water. That was a good bit wasn’t it? Don’t “shhh” me mate. This seat’s a bit hard isn’t it? Eeewww, this is salted, I wanted sweet. Oh god, not another space battle…