Excuse Me Waiter, There’s A Fly In My Film
- Written by Hugh Mason-Jones
The clock is ticking. There are ten seconds before the bomb explodes, killing our hero. She’s faced with a tough decision; does she cut the red or the blue wire. A slow zoom-in on the wires is intercut with a slow zoom-in on the clock and a slow zoom-in on her eyes, twitching between the choice of brilliant success or explosive failure. ‘CUT THE BLUE WIRE!’ a voice cries from the seat next to me.
Again, ‘CUT THE BLUE WIRE’, this time accompanied with a meteor shower of semi chewed wedges propelled unceremoniously from the maw of this patron. Looking over in bemusement and disgust, my attention is taken away from a split-second decision where the hero has, presumably, saved the day, figured out the plot and solved world hunger. However, don’t ask me. I wouldn’t know! As I look back to the screen, the credits are rolling over the hero as she rides her palomino into the sunset. My journey into the premium movie-going world has ended in frustration, confusion and a severe lack of closure.
After recently attending the movie Cowboys and Aliens at a premium movie-going venue, while being able to witness all the vital parts of the film, I could not help but feel that what was supposed to be the pinnacle of the movie experience had somehow been wrenched from me and replaced with a large bowl of potato wedges with sour cream.
Not having been to this kind of cinema since 1999, when a group of uni friends hired out the cinema to witness the rebirth of Star Wars, and, understandably, my attention was less on the surrounds and more on how I was going to disembowel Jar Jar Binks, whilst concurrently writing a letter to George Lucas about how he had ruined my childhood. The one thing that I recalled with fondness and was looking forward to was the cinema chairs/mini sofas for one. Fortunately, I was not disappointed, and for me, this is what I would pay extra money for; the ability to recline in public to watch a movie. Just the ability to publicly assume a supine-esque position without being stared at or operated on was brilliant!
However, after making my small sofa fort, I was dismayed to have the audio of the film punctuated with distractions that, at times, made it difficult to properly listen to Harrison Ford’s character speaking. Much like Homer admonishing Lisa for talking over the barking dog, I believe that it is heresy to speak over the top of Han Solo and Indiana Jones simultaneously. Beloq didn’t try it, nor did Greedo, yet they both wound up dead – short answer is, let the man speak. So whilst I strained to hear the motivation for Ford’s character, my attempts were punctuated with the bumping and clinking of waiters, the movement of other viewers as they leaned across to gorge upon masses of food and beverage or the vocal additions of the audience around me as they felt it perfectly acceptable to engage with the text on a verbal level; each of which carries a particular unique annoyance.
Firstly, with particular tense scenes as proffered in Cowboys and Aliens, I enjoy focusing upon the screen, looking for any indication of where the danger might be looking and of where I might enjoy fleeing to should the protagonist come a cropper and I am forced to leg it as they are being eaten alive. What I don’t enjoy doing, is looking off the screen as roving bands of waiters rummage about, delivering food and beverages to other patrons. Now, to their credit, I did not have any scurrying in front of me, however, that’s not the point. I will have to wait for the DVD/Blu-Ray release to be able to check if there was anything that I missed, potentially changing my understanding of the narrative. Was I indeed supposed to be feeling remorseful as character B was eaten alive, I’m not sure, I was too busy being distracted by an usher carrying a banana split.
Which brings me my beef *cough* about the food. In the past, I have had my fair share of fine dining experiences. Having enjoyed the offerings of several locations that boast a Michelin rating, I can’t say that I have had the experience of after selecting my entrée and mains, being asked to select the movie I’d like to watch to assist in my consumption of the food. To suggest such a thing would have most chefs swearing more than Gordon Ramsey at the final of a swearing competition for sailors. So why does it happen at the movies? I understand that there are some foods that can be easily consumed whilst still enjoying complete visual contact with the film, however, the foods that were being offered contained all manner of paraphernalia and ritual to consume, thereby surely removing their eyes from the screen, but also once again, my attention was drawn to my periphery as people attempted to navigate their meals. It’s bad enough when the person next to you has a popcorn eating technique that is sure to leave him an amputee, but this was something else entirely.
Finally: the perceived participatory nature of the viewing experience. There are screening of such classics as The Blues Brothers, Mary Poppins even The Room where part of the experience is the audience joining in with the dialogue and the singing. It is an accepted and expected part which enhances the film, cementing it as a pop culture icon. However, patrons being in an environment which they presumably forget that it is not their living room and feel the need to speak, yell and verbally comment at the screen. Not even necessarily to the person next to them, which was also occurring, presumably with someone asking to pass the salt, but directly to the screen. Now some may suggest that this adds to the experience. However, again, when I’m trying to listen to key aspects of the plot, I would prefer if I wasn’t aurally straining to interpret what’s being said.
To me, watching a movie is an opportunity to be drawn into an alternate reality for a period of time, where you can forget about the world and engage your imagination, emotions and suspension of disbelief. Premium movie going is not about enhancing this. Premium movie going is about enhancing the movie going experience, not the depth in which a person’s imagination is drawn into the narrative. It’s not about appreciating the artistry of the film. It’s about going out and having an experience in which a movie is somewhat involved, like in the manner that karaoke is about the experience first, with tone, rhythm and key arriving in a different taxi and getting lost along the way.