I love movies, but I almost never go to the theater to see them. I watch them on a television, a computer screen, or on my phone. J.J. Abrams would say that I’m doing the medium a disservice by viewing Hollywood gold on a 7″ screen; I would argue that the obnoxious members of the theater-going public does the medium a disservice by ruining the experience for everyone else who paid $25 for their tickets and popcorn.I just finished up my first viewing of ‘Captain America: Civil War,’ which means it’s time to write a review. Not of the film — which was great — but of the annoying bastard who decided to sit directly behind me.
I’ll admit, I probably should have just moved as soon as you chose your seat and decided to append the Skittles commercial by loudly saying, “taste my penis.” That was a brilliant comedic gem, and I’m sure it was appreciated by all of the children around you.
I was okay with the fact that you and your date/girlfriend/handler decided to talk loudly over the trailers. It’s something that annoys the crap out of me, but I’ve learned to live with it over the years. What did bother me was that you felt the need to loudly clear your throat every five seconds throughout the entire movie. Maybe you thought that people around you would understand that you had a little tickle in your throat that required constant growling, choking noises; we don’t. We don’t care, and we want you to go the hell away. A lot of people worked very hard on the audio for this film, and neither they nor I care to have your grunting overlaid like some kind of plague-ridden metronome.
I’ll give you this much: the throat clearing did stop whenever you and your companion decided to discuss the movie. I enjoyed how every time a new character appeared on the screen, she would say, “who is that?” and then you would invariably blurt out, “EH, IDUNNO” as loudly as possible. That was fun.
Quiet parts of the movie are not an invitation to carry on conversation. You may think it’s okay because you’re whispering, but your stupid mouths are only eighteen inches away from other peoples’ ears in every direction. You should have just handed me the $40 it cost to get into the movie and sat in your car and talked and hacked for two and half hours. Everyone would have been happier.
My favorite part of the movie? The ultra-cool scene where you decided to drop your enormous collection of car keys on the floor. And then do it again. And then talk about how you dropped your keys as you jingled them around a foot from my ear. And then slammed them into your armrest. That was a hoot!
Of course, I also loved how you kept me guessing from one story beat to the next. Just when I thought I’d had your pattern of grunting and throat clearing figured out, you shook things up during the last half-hour by tapping your foot nonstop like some kind of methed-up jackrabbit. Bravo!
Someone farted — loudly — during the movie. Naturally, it would be impossible for me to know who it was, but I’m going to assume it was you. Even if it wasn’t you, you deserve the attribution. You did belch several times, so you might as well round out the evening with a trouser-shredding fart, right? Congratulations for bringing every offensive noise that a human body can make into my movie viewing experience.
Anyway, I blame myself for this. You proved right away that you’re a scumbag, and I should have taken the initiative and changed seats. My bad.
All opinions are that of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Deck Ape...or anyone else. Arrr!