Movie Theater Ettiquette

It seems in this our vaulted digital age some basic civilities have dissipated. Namely personal space and politeness. If you'll indulge the age-old gripe it seems with our technological advances our ability or interest in treating others with respect has waned. We seem to be ignorant in public spaces of proximity to each others bodies, perhaps a result of chronic device use shifting focus from the outside world within, and those age old words "please" "thank you" and "excuse me" seem endangered. And sure however dated and devoid of meaning these arbitrary phrases may be at the very least they indicate a modicum of consideration.

I acknowledge that I'm most likely hyper sensitive of these various indiscretions in the movie theater as it is a place of reverence for me. A place of solace and adventure, of comfort and belonging. Which all can be shattered by the inconsiderate. Which brings us to yesterday evening.

At the AMC River East in a small theater, the 9:50pm screening of Kubo and the Two Strings. The audience was surprisingly packed. Always early as to not miss previews or appropriate seating Nicole and I were situated with a single seat on either side. After the protracted introduction and fifteen minutes of previews the movie began. At the same time three gangly foreign tourist 12-year-old boys with backpacks stuffed-to-bursting lumbered in to the theater.

As the opening credits rolled for the emotional stop-action flick two of them walked to the center of the row we were sitting in and asked the couple to our left to move, which they did. The third after his buds had seated walked in front of us and said "Can you move". Nicole quickly acquiesced. "No problem" she said. The small ember of anger ignited by their oblivious tardiness blossomed into an incendiary bonfire of rage. God. How dare they.

As the boy stood in front of me I waited a calculated fifteen seconds then said "Unreal". I got up and purposely crowded him as I passed and nudged him with my shoulder. As the movie progressed I calmed but throughout the running time the three checked their phones, laughed at emotional moments, loudly snacked on full size bags of potato chips, and guzzled soda from two liters.

At the end of the film, during the poignant resolution one of the three got up to stand in the entrance and take a call. As we exited I made a point to crowd him and give him a shoulder nudge. I was righteous in my passive-aggression. I was imparting a lesson.

Which is idiocy of course. It is most probable these three didn't even notice my behavior. Or if they did took it in stride as American attitude. It certainly didn't faze them. It was laughable.

For a long time I was an angry guy and I've mostly come to terms with it, put that part of myself behind me. Learned how to let go of small grievances and large irritants. But every now again it comes bubbling back. And every now and again I give it an outlet however slight. And almost always it is comic rather than sinister. Impotent rather than reasonable. And I'm reminded how futile fury can be.