I’ve been working in my local multiplex for over five years now. You get less time in prison for killing a baby. That last sentence has nothing to do with anything really, because I love my job. I get to be around movies most days, rarely miss a good one and as a projectionist I get a whole auditorium to myself when I ‘print check’ (watch the movie, make sure it’s not damaged, make sure it’s in order). This ‘private cinema’, though, has its downsides. Every now and again I’ll watch a film with ‘you people’, the general public. What a bunch of noisy, retarded fuckwits you are.
I’m not on a crusade to drum up cinema business, but to quote the advert, for me, it really is the only place to watch a movie. No matter how big your plasma screen is, how much gold-plated cable your HD has connected to your sub woofer via your donkey flange, it’s no match for 24 frames of 35mm on a screen the height of three buses with wall-to-wall speakers. So, and I know this isn’t just for me, here is a guide to how to watch a film without annoying your fellow man and inspiring tendencies of a truly homicidal nature.
SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Here’s the rule. Talk during the adverts. Whisper during the trailers. Shut the fuck up during the film. If you are indeed too dumb to follow a film, then you shouldn’t really be allowed out. If you feel the need to explain the film to everyone around you then you really shouldn’t be breathing. If you want to discuss your private life go to the fucking pub. Don’t come into a dark, quiet room and chat about how Darren was fingering Toyah, behind Stacey’s back. The cinema-going public doesn’t care!
QUIT YOUR RUTTING!
Speaking of fingering, could you not fuck all over the cinema seats. This is more for my good usher friends, who don’t want to pick up used prophylactics – but it’s also a word of warning for you horny little devils. There is a big window at the back of every cinema where the projectionist sees all. Unless you want to be uploaded onto redtube, stop fucking and watch the movie. Kissing and copping a feel is fine. Aww, I do have a romantic side.
RESEARCH YOUR MOVIE!
Nobody likes to know too much about a film before they go in, trailers are bastards for giving away too much, but genre, stars and whether or not it’s subtitled should be a pre-requisite of information. For you illiterate types (there are many in Norfolk where I live) if you find out it does have subtitles and that you forgot how to learn to read, leave the cinema, pick up a book and start at square one.
No matter what the problem with the film, noisy cunts, subtitles, picture half off the screen, the earlier you complain the better. The staff will either sort the problem out or refund you. Guaran-bloody-teed. If on the other hand you watch the entire feature and come out at the end and rant that the air conditioning is one degree less than you like we’ll probably tell you to go fuck yourself.
THREE COURSE MEAL!
If people don’t buy popcorn I don’t get paid so I’m no going to sit here and complain about food. You eat so that I can. But a modicum of respect whilst grazing on your tub of corn is essential. Try the ‘eating when it’s a loud bit’ game. This was my sole source of enjoyment watching The Mummy 3.
BLADDER OF AN INFANT!
I simply cannot complain about people going for a piss during films as I urinate more than an 80 year-old with a catheter and a nappy. Just try and do it quickly and subtly. And use the toilet not the screen. No film is bad enough to warrant that kind of dirty protest.
BERET WEARING CUNTS!
I am a pretentious man but watching arthouse films with the masses puts me on an intellectual equivalent with Wayne Rooney. You know how I know this, because I only laugh at things that are funny, whereas the average Beret-wearing twatbag laughs at everything that is clever. We get it you understand what the characters are talking about. Get yourself a fucking choc ice!
So there you have it, be quiet, don’t fuck, learn to read, don’t slouch, eat your greens and I won’t impale you on my cock of cinematic justice. If anyone has any more grievances post them below, and maybe someday soon we can reclaim the cinema as a holy place like a church or a synagogue, or my bed. Well, lots of people yell out “Jesus” in my bed. And then follow it with, “that is a tiny penis”.