The Projector: Is There a Wrong Way to Watch a Movie? (Patreon)
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Earlier this week on the Next Picture Show Slack we found ourselves talking about a string of tweets from Claire Downs, a writer and director, about an experience watching Elvis at an Alamo Drafthouse. During the screening she was handed a pre-printed card reminding her that there was "no talking or texting" while a film was playing. She was neither talking nor texting, but she was laughing at what another member of the audience considered inappropriate times.
I was not at that screening and cannot say whether or not Downs' laughter was disruptive. I do think Alamo's policy is, on the whole, an admirable one, having been to way too many screenings hampered or even ruined by disruptive and disrespectful audience members. But can you control how someone reacts to a film?
I don't think you can, even if it sometimes feels like you should be able to. I keep thinking about an article friend of the show Amy Nicholson wrote in 2015: "Stop Laughing at Old Movies You $@%@ing Hipsters," in which she recounts the experience of watching older movies with a crowd that thinks anything old is just a hoot. I've been there. I once saw Gimme Shelter with an audience largely fixated on laughing at the crazy hippie fashions. And one of the worst screenings of my life was seeing Vertigo with a crowd that seemingly decided that Jimmy Stewart's descent into madness and obsession in the second half was hilarious.
That said, what are you going to do? Talking and texting during a movie is obviously bad behavior, but can you penalize someone for not getting a movie? Or watching it wrong? Can you turn away moviegoers who've shown up for ironic enjoyment? Maybe the rule should be it's okay to be jackasses at home but at least try to put a cap on it if you're with others?
That said, it's not like I'm innocent either. One of my most memorable moviegoing experiences involved seeing the Britney Spears star vehicle Crossroads in a theater that was at least half filled with people who'd shown up to watch a train wreck. (Their numbers were padded out by my wife and our own Scott Tobias.) About halfway through the snickers became infectious and you could feel the crowd turning on the movie, even those who'd shown up with no irony in their heart. One of the holdouts, in frustration, exclaimed, "Come on, it's not that funny." I disagreed then, but I kind of feel for them now.