‘Tis the season of great movie releases, and despite hectic holiday schedules with family, extended family and chosen family (by that I mean good friends), we squeezed in a movie on Christmas Day. I wanted to see "Milk," however, we were in Green Bay and, sadly, it was not showing. So we settled on "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," which was good, in a mainstream, epic "Forrest Gump" sort of way.
However, I was more affected by the audience than the almost three-hour film. Within the confines of one packed theater, just about every movie-watching stereotype was in attendance.
Behind us sat the person who states the obvious. "She’s gone!" she hissed loudly when the main character walks into an empty foyer. Later, in a war scene, she says, "He’s dying!" I fantasized about turning around and asking, "Was it the large gunshot wound, the blood erupting from the hole in his chest or the glazed-over look in his eyes that gave it away, lady?"
Next to us, we had the "sneezer and cougher." This is the stranger you curse later when you realize her germs were quietly sprinkling your popcorn and simultaneously poisoning your healthy immune system.
In front of us sat the "question-asker." You know, the guy who keeps asking his wife questions about the film that weren’t answered yet. "Are they going to get married?" Well, joker, I left my Oujia board in the car, so unless you're married to Miss Cleo, let's just watch the film and find out, shall we?
Plus, we sat on the aisle which means we stood up three or four times to let out someone in need of Raisinettes or restroom relief. We also had a "loud laugher" in the back of the theater, but his cackle was so borderline maniacal it was funny.
On the way home from the film, I thought about Netflix and cable television and all the ways I can enjoy films from the controlled environment of my home. The truth is, witnessing the flick with a bunch of strangers is part of the movie-going adventure, and despite annoying aspects of it, I love the collective celluloid experience.
Once, my friend and I were the only people in the entire movie theater, and that felt really creepy. So, it looks like as long as I go to public showings of films, I’m stuck with you and you’re stuck with me. I’ll be the one sitting directly in front of you, wearing the Carmen Miranda fruit-stacked hat.
Molly Snyder started writing and publishing her work at the age 10, when her community newspaper printed her poem, "The Unicorn.” Since then, she's expanded beyond the subject of mythical creatures and written in many different mediums but, nearest and dearest to her heart, thousands of articles for OnMilwaukee.
Molly is a regular contributor to FOX6 News and numerous radio stations as well as the co-host of "Dandelions: A Podcast For Women.” She's received five Milwaukee Press Club Awards, served as the Pfister Narrator and is the Wisconsin State Fair’s Celebrity Cream Puff Eating Champion of 2019.
