Why I hate cinemas
Carb-heavy popcorn in hand, I practically skipped down to the cinema alongside friends as we sat on too-sticky seats to watch the Next Big Thing™. The sacrosanct enclave where people would stay quiet, turn off their phones, and engage in a collective yet solitary retreat, almost like a cerebral palace disconnected from the world. It was the one place where I could step away from the issues I was having at home, at work, or beyond. It was perfect.
We all know how that went. Now, when I go to the cinema, I expect a battalion of spotty-faced hecklers and TikTok-addicted adults who don’t know when to shut the fuck up. These are the gossips and troublemakers who tittle-tattle and warble through the film, utterly incapable of switching off. It adds a low-level murmur behind movies, disrupting the flow that directors intended.
Children, at least, have the excuse of boundless energy, fuelled by sugar and excitement. But adults? Adults should know better. And yet, they sit there, flicking through their phones with glaring screens reflecting into my eyes.
(As a British man, I am also horrified that people cheer and clap during movie scenes. I cringe to the density of a neutron star. If you want to squeal and chirrup, go to a cage in Edinburgh Zoo).
Then there’s the filming! The filming! The plague that now runs rampant on my Reels and TikTok feeds. When I watched Wicked, I was surrounded by people raising their phones, recording key scenes as though they were the cinematographers of their own bootleg productions. Then these films spoil key moments as I stroll through the content wasteland, with the surprise of a random encounter in Pokemon. “Surprise! A wild Spoiler appeared!”
Worse, some of them were singing along, butchering the Oscar-worthy passion of the actors with the vocal range of a puppy set on fire. I didn’t attend Wicked to hear Janice murder Defy Gravity in front of everyone. I did not want to see Delilah shank the song Popular, over and over again, until she is the least popular visitor. Shut up. I did not go to the cinema to endure karaoke-level suffering.
Then there is the… overpriced food. Look, I get it. Cinemas need to make money to survive, and understand that they charge more for food and popcorn. But if I’m going to support my local cinema by purchasing a carb-and-butter-laden mess of overpriced popcorn, I at least expect to be treated with some dignity. I don’t expect to feel like a pole has been shoved so far up my backside that its end is emerging through my sticky-toothed mouth. I just want to enjoy my time without needing to take out a loan.
Then there’s the issue of spoilers, where plot twists and key scenes are dropped in marketing materials and trailers. Studios have become so risk-averse that they now spoil their own films just to guarantee seats. Captain America: Brave New World is the most recent example, with Super Bowl-sized twists that were dropped during the literal Super Bowl. This isn’t just bad film marketing; it’s cowardice. A nervous studio would rather ruin its own surprises than take the risk of letting an audience experience them as intended.
At the end of the day, I’m witnessing a cultural shift in cinema. Yes, we are leaning more towards "experiential" gatherings, but in my view, the relentless transformation of cinema into an "experience" should be left well alone. I don’t want people filming the entire time. I don’t want movie studios spoiling key moments to ensure ticket sales. I just want to sit in the dark, in peace, and experience that deep, complex feeling of feeling something new, and refreshing, without anything else getting in the way.
But if this trend continues – if the erosion of the cinema experience carries on unabated – then I’ll have no choice but to stay at home, curled up on my sofa, watching the same trash TV on repeat ad infinitum. At least Delilah won’t be there.
