I was thinking the other day that I haven’t been inside a movie theater in years.
Not months. Years. And the surprising thing is that I don’t miss it.
Now, before anyone in the cinema business – which I often write about on the technology side faints, let me clarify. I still love movies and the technology behind them. I still appreciate great storytelling, great acting, and great cinematography. Through my work, I’ve spent years writing about projection technology, cinema innovation, and the efforts companies make to create better viewing experiences.
What I don’t miss is the audience. Several years ago, the movie-going experience became less about watching a film and more about enduring everyone else who paid to be there.
I know that sounds grumpy. Maybe it is. But hear me out.
Imagine inviting a group of strangers into your living room to watch a movie. One person arrives late. Another spends two hours rustling bags, and another spends the entire movie smacking and slurping on food and beverages. Someone else checks their phone every 10 minutes and receives three calls – none on vibrate, but the full-blown ring. Another kicks the back of your chair. Yet another provides a running commentary as if they’ve been hired by the director to explain the plot.
You’d probably never invite them back. Yet put those same people inside a movie theater, and somehow we’re expected to accept it as part of the deal.
The popcorn and nachos is usually what gets me.
I understand that theaters make much of their money from concessions. That’s the business model. But there are times when it feels like half the audience is participating in a competitive eating contest.
The movie starts, and suddenly you’re surrounded by crunching, chewing, slurping, and the constant rustling of containers large enough to store winter road salt.
I realize I may be in the minority here. Many people associate movie popcorn with the theater experience, in the same way as baseball fans associate hot dogs with the ballpark. Fair enough.
But when I’m trying to follow a quiet scene and someone nearby is conducting a full-scale excavation of a popcorn bucket, it becomes a little difficult to appreciate the finer points of the performance.
Then there are the seat kickers. If I want someone repeatedly kicking the back of my seat, I’ll book an economy-class flight somewhere. At least on an airplane, I’ll end up in another city.
At the theater, all I get is a sore back and a diminished appreciation for humanity.
The strange thing is that home viewing has improved dramatically over the past decade. The televisions are bigger. The picture quality is incredible. Sound systems are better than ever. Streaming services make almost anything available with a few clicks.
Most importantly, I control the audience. If someone talks through the movie, it’s me.
If someone pauses it for a bathroom break, it’s me. If someone decides to eat an entire bucket of popcorn, well, that’s still me too, but at least I know who the culprit is.
What I’ve discovered is that I don’t really miss movie theaters. I miss what movie theaters used to represent. I miss sitting in a dark room and becoming completely immersed in a story and the feeling that everyone around me was there for the same reason. I miss audiences that seemed to understand the difference between watching a movie and participating in one.
I’m sure those audiences still exist. Maybe I’ve just become spoiled by the comfort and convenience of watching films at home. Or maybe, like concession food at sporting events, movie theaters have become another place where normal rules seem to disappear.
Whatever the reason, I’m not rushing back. I still love a good movie but I just prefer watching them without the soundtrack of popcorn, soda straws and somebody explaining the plot to their spouse halfway through the second act.
johnberkovich.com 