Metro Plus
Bangalore
Chennai
Delhi
Hyderabad
Kochi
The rules of movie-going
|
Unstoppable wailing, or an inquisitive, piercing voice, is not conducive to neighbourly relations while watching a film.
|
IF YOUR mobile goes off in a cinema hall and you hear a woman's angry hiss, that's probably me. The sibilant noise would most likely be accompanied by an expletive. You wouldn't notice, in the dark, that I'm also looking daggers at you. Intemperate behaviour? Not according to me. What you may not have realised is that there are film-goers and film-goers. Many walk into the theatre as though they're going to watch a cricket match. For others, like me, it's a deadly serious occupation. You wouldn't go into a public library and start yodelling, would you? Would you? Then why do you presume that you have the right to do its equivalent in a cinema hall?
Let me clarify that I'm an English-movie fan and all further references are to theatres in the M.G. Road area. Why should it make a difference? I have a little theory about that. People watching Hindi films with their diarrhoeal dialogues and deafening decibels can merrily chat away because the soundtrack is always louder than their voices. Now, in many Hollywood films, the screenplay is taut and you have to keep your ears tuned to nuances in conversation. Bad enough you have to figure out strange accents — Irish, Texan, Spanish-American, New York-Italian. Anything above a whisper is therefore a disturbance.
So let me dive straight into the dos and don'ts of movie-going. Notice I said movie-going and not movie-watching. The rules begin prior to arrival. Be on time — and I mean, well before the commercials start. I shall unbend slightly to permit talking during commercials; even a jocular comment or two is acceptable. But whatever you do, don't walk in after the movie has begun. Your and your family's slow progress will create a caravan of silhouettes across the screen for about a minute and a half. Your high-heeled wife is bound to stumble when she starts ascending the steps, and your kids will loudly complain "I can't see anything daddy" while the usher shines the torch straight in my face. Yes, in my face, since you are unfortunately bound for my row. You will doubtless step on my toes and knock roughly against my kneecaps, besides blocking my view as you shuffle and stagger along to your seats.
I insist that you switch off your mobile phone. Never will I forget the lowlife who answered a string of business calls throughout The Fellowship of the Rings in a gun-throat voice. I was part of a gang of twelve, and all of us put together made infinitely less noise than this one man talking about his maal. I wouldn't have minded hiring a hit man to go after him.
Belonging to a more evolved species are those who leave their phones on but, when a call comes in, go out into the foyer. But tell me, why do they have to run out like their tails are on fire with the blasted ringing tone following them all the way? It always reminds me of school lessons about the Doppler effect — remember the sound of the train horn as it approaches you being more high-pitched than the sound as it goes away from you? I would rather not be reminded of my old physics textbook, though, when I'm watching a tense scene on screen between a two-timing man and his suspicious wife. A less disruptive method would be to switch to silent mode the moment the call comes in, and calmly walk out to answer it. Or leave the phone on vibrator mode. Is that too much to ask?
One's murderous instincts are provoked by those who get restless during the "slow scenes". For god's sake, are you so addicted to constant "action" that you can't sit still while some low-key but intense conversation is going on? Must you then indulge in conversation of your own? Or murmur loudly, or cough violently and creak your seat springs?
For a while one had the problem of the man with the laser pointer who would shine a red spot onto the hero's face or into the heroine's cleavage. The idea seemed to have occurred to many men simultaneously. Fortunately, ushers were put on high alert and they would swiftly swoop down on the perpetrators. I haven't seen a pointer-pest recently, but the wise guy is still around. He's the one who produces what he believes is a hilarious noise to distract the audience into laughter. He usually does this during a suspense-filled moment. He fancies himself to be a tough guy and he hopes his noises will cover up the fact that he's scared out of his wits.
Bringing little babies or toddlers to the movies, now that's a tricky one. I can understand that not every urban couple has parents conveniently close so they can dump the little 'un with them. I heartily sympathise with the young mother who has been cooped up all day and therefore has to see a movie or burst. But do consider the audience for a moment. Unstoppable wailing, or an inquisitive, piercing voice, is not conducive to neighbourly relations.
Much obliged if you'd keep these rules in mind the next time you go to a movie. Remember, it's not a cricket match. It's serious business.
C.K. MEENA
Printer friendly
page
Send this article to Friends by
E-Mail
Metro Plus
Bangalore
Chennai
Delhi
Hyderabad
Kochi
|
