I don’t encounter too many problems when I go to the movies – and I see a few – but several weeks ago some chatty patrons sparked a shouting match during the pre-feature trailer screenings, which saw both parties threatening to have the other “thrown out”.
The lights dimmed however and order was reinstated as the feature began to roll. Not all movie-goers have it quite so easy though:
Twenty minutes into the film I heard her. She was talking to the screen – narrating her thoughts and feelings, as well as answering rhetorical questions asked by the characters. “What will we do? There’s no time!” asked the main character. “I dun’ know! You be so screwed!” she belched in anguish, as if the actors in the movie could actually hear her clam-scented reply. Fifteen minutes from the end of the movie – the climax – and the water buffalo was still talking. I’d endured her for nearly two hours, and what was a mild irritation had transformed into a boiling, volcanic rage.
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