And I Thought Black Swan Was Scary

Two or three times a year, I like to treat myself to a movie. I don't go more often because I can't afford it. I don't have Netflix for the same reasons. But I like going to the movies. I like sitting in a dark theater in front of a giant screen. It's fun to get pulled into someone else's world for a while. And the buttery popcorn is good too. (I know, I know, it's totally unhealthy, but I only eat it twice a year. So whatever.)

I also like going to movies alone, because then I get to pick what I want to see and I don't have to share my food with anyone. Also, my friends don't always like my movie selections. For example, I actually went to see Mariah Carey's movie, Glitter, when it came out. (Okay. You can stop groaning now.) I couldn't see why everyone hated it so much. I didn't think it was that bad. (But admittedly, it wasn't that great, either.)

Recently, I went to watch Black Swan, partly because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, and partly because I've always admired Natalie Portman's work as an actress. And in this movie she was, as always, brilliant.

However, the movie was slightly confusing, because I couldn't really tell what was real and what was not (which I guess was the point). Since it was a thriller, there were several instances in the movie where the audience was suddenly startled by something particularly shocking or scary. (And maybe that's why I was confused by the movie, because I kept covering my eyes and ended up missing parts of it.) At least twice during the movie I gasped, jumped in my seat, and spilled some of my popcorn. It landed on a guy sitting near me. He looked at me as if to say, "At least aim the popcorn towards my mouth next time."

I like sitting in the back of the movie theater, because there are usually fewer people up there. However, there is one disadvantage, because it gives you a full view of everyone in front of you. That includes everyone who loves their cell phones so much that they can't bear to turn them off for two hours.

It's as if they want to say, "I can't, I just can't! What if my best friends update their Twitter feed and I can't immediately respond to their Tweets? What if someone in my family calls for the third time today to discuss what we talked about in the last two calls? What if someone sees my Facebook page and has no idea what I'm doing because I haven't been able to update my Facebook status in over an hour? Then there would just be madness, I tell you!"

There was this woman in front of me who pulled out her phone to send and receive text messages at least six times throughout the movie (I counted). Texting isn't as bad as talking on the phone, but the light from her phone shone directly into my face, as if someone was shining a miniature flashlight at me. I wanted to say to her, "You want to see something scary? Turn around, JERK!"

It got to the point where I was ready to lean forward and tell her, "Could you please stop doing that? The light from your phone is bothering me." But I was going to say it in a polite way, without dumping my giant soda (which apparently is laced with some kind of mind-altering fluid that makes anyone who drinks it willing to pay more than their ticket price for soda and popcorn) on her head, and without taking her phone away and flinging it at the screen and yelling, "Go FETCH!" But I didn't, because she finally shut her phone and put it away.

There was a younger girl there, who looked like she was twelve or thirteen, who actually answered her phone during the movie. It sounded like she was talking to someone she had a crush on, because she said, "Oh, hi. No, not much is going on right now." Everyone in the audience let out a collective groan, and for a moment I was afraid that they were all going to attack her with their own cell phones. Fortunately, she walked out of the theater, still talking on her phone, of course.

I also found myself wishing I hadn't bought such a large soda (although honestly, a small soda at a theater is basically a large soda), because I kept fidgeting for half of the movie. Finally I got up about halfway through the movie and tried to make my way down the aisle, though I tripped over someone's enormous shoes and my arms started waving in the air. Then I almost went flying, looking as if I was trying to imitate the dancers leaping across the stage in the movie (I wasn't). I tried to apologize to the person I tripped over, but someone else was all, "SHHHH!" And I was all, "You SHHHHH!"

It was then that I realized that the lack of money isn't the only reason I rarely go to the movies.

What about you? What do you like/dislike about the movie theater?