I can’t remember the last time David and I saw a movie in the theaters. I can’t remember the title of the last movie we saw in a theater. I do know that it was well before Coronavirus hit in early 2019. I fondly recall the crowds of people congregating in the lobby or lining up to buy tickets, the aroma of sometimes stale popcorn, the rush to find the perfect seat, and finally settling in as the theater went dark. It was a night out. A date night.
After months of enduring a pandemic, stay-at-home orders, social distancing and mandatory mask wearing, we finally felt safe enough to re-enter a movie theater. After all, theaters all over the country were shuttered for nearly a year. No live concerts, musicals, or plays - and no moving picture shows, as they were called back in the day. Some theater venues will rebound, some sadly will not. Sadly, one of our two local Showcase cinemas did not survive a year of Covid, but the other now welcomed the return of paying customers.
It would take a serious flick to draw us back to a theater. After all, we have grown used to the hundreds of movies available at the push of a remote button in the comfort of our own chairs, at a fraction of the expense of a theater film. Not to mention mask wearing, social distancing and hand sanitizing keeping us away. There’s something to be said about being in full viewing control - pausing and rewinding at will and having our own movie snacks on hand. Even though theaters were technically opening with new first-run movies, we weren’t yet ready to leave the comfort of the nest. But now, with indoor and outdoor restrictions lifted and our own fully-vaccinated status, we thought it was time to venture out to the big screen. So when we saw the trailer for “A Quiet Place II”, we made our decision to give it a go.
To avoid any potential crowds, we chose a week day time of 4:55 pm. With the blessing of my boss, I left work at 3:30 and arrived home just as David was finishing up with a music lesson. He grabbed his salt shaker (for the popcorn) and I snagged a plastic baggie (for my share of the popcorn without the excess salt), and off we drove to the Showcase theater. We arrived to find the parking lot pretty empty, with just a couple of rows of parked cars. Good - no crowds, no worries. Inside, the lobby was nearly deserted, with a skeleton crew, and except for popcorn and candy, food concessions were closed.
Movie going has changed over the years. I still remember human-being operated ticket booths at the small town theater. Real popcorn, freshly popped, butter added on the spot when purchased. Then things changed. Even before the pandemic, tickets were not only sold at the movie counter, but were also available in advance at movies.com or at a theater kiosk. Drinks were now dispensed from a vending machine. David and I are old school - we like the human being behind the ticket counter and the drink dispensed for us. I consider myself a tech-savvy woman. I like online banking and mobile check deposit. Amazon is my friend. Cyber Monday is a major holiday. But at the movies, like David, I prefer the human touch.
So, with no human ticket dispenser in sight, our first stop was the ticket kiosk, which I let David handle. For me, it’s like the self-serve checkout at the supermarket - more work for me. David, who prefers human interaction, was clearly annoyed by the whole process. Seats were chosen by the computer factoring in social distancing, but allowed the opportunity to keep or change them. The seats displayed on the seating chart looked acceptable and seemed to be those we normally like. But wait - there’s more! Not only could you obtain your movie tickets, you were encouraged to order and pay for your snacks from the same kiosk, leading to more frustration and more time wasted. Large popcorn, check. Large beverage, check. Time to pay - and wait. As the “circle of death” spun, we waited impatiently for the kiosk screen to tell us the next step. We finally figured out what it was waiting for - a credit card. Gee, you’d think a computer would be smart enough to give us a sign. The machine finally spat out movie and snack tickets without so much as a thank you for waiting.
Now off to the concessions to pick up popcorn and drink. We handed the masked attendant our snack coupons and were immediately handed a large bag of popcorn and a large and empty cup, pointing us to the butter dispenser. Really? You can’t do it for me? Now I remembered why I sometimes smuggle in my own bottle of water and snack. I held on to the popcorn with the intention of visiting the butter machine, but was distracted by David's confusion as he faced a row of drink machines. Okay, this shouldn’t be that difficult. We see sickening sweet Minute Maid and sno-cone type frosty things, but where the heck were the soft drinks? The dispenser we thought had the requested drink was asking to scan a code. But what is this secret code? By this point, Dr. David, Ed.D. was fuming. Even his advanced degree couldn’t figure this one out, and the help of a nearby employee was enlisted. The kid approached yet a different machine, pushed a button, and the choices popped up. So much for doctoral degrees.
Feeling a bit like simpletons, we headed over to the ticket scanner person. Try as he might, the poor kid couldn’t get the ink blots to scan, and finally gave up, pointing us in the direction of the theater, which of course is never the one nearby, but the one a mile down the hallway. We made our way to our assigned seats, which in this narrow tunnel-like theater, meant that the screen appeared the size of a thumbnail. We were both thinking the same thing - our home TV screen is bigger, and this movie could have waited for home streaming. In all actuality, there were only a handful of people in the theater, and we could have simply moved our seats. However, the fear of hidden cameras and social distance police sending in a swat team kept us in our assigned places. Comfortable seated, David reached into the popcorn and asked, "Where's the butter?" Oops! I failed in my one job, the butter dispenser. No way was I getting up, so we tried a new experiment: popcorn without butter, and it was absolutely fine. We saved on calories and possibly began a new health regimen!
Next were the usual previews - only two of which were movies we’d be the least bit interested in - and certainly not worth the trip to a theater. These were then followed by announcements, ads, emergency exit alerts, health and safety precautions, and warnings of imprisonment or death if you’re caught stealing the movie. All told, over 20 minutes of previews! By this point, our comfy home chairs and TV looked very tempting.
Finally, the “Feature Presentation” began. I won’t review the film here, but suffice it to say, it was intense, on-the-edge-of-your-seat stuff, as much so as its predecessor. Anyone who has seen “A Quiet Place” will know what I mean. The movie‘s sound ranges from absolute quiet to deafening loud. The premise of the film is silence, and much of it was devoid of any sound - except for the guy next to me who chose these particular muted moments to rattle his popcorn bag and slurp his drink. So my one piece of advice for this film would be to consume your snacks during the 20-plus minutes of previews or save them for the end so as not to spoil the mood and arouse the irritation of those around you.
Will we do another movie out? The experience was not as satisfying or enjoyable as we expected it would be. It was even annoying at times. Most obvious was the fact that you pay the same high price for way less service. Regrettably, understaffing is a concern these days, but self-service movie tickets, butter and drink dispensers began long before the Pandemic. If this is the wave of the movie-going future, count us out. Perhaps a new Star Wars or Avengers movie might draw us back to the theater. For now, though, we’ll continue to enjoy our self service movie experience at home with full command of the remote control.
Be sure to read my other thoughts on life: Life Reflections
~ Jan