A couple weeks ago, my mom and I went to the Kids Clubhouse screening of "Mr. Peabody and Sherman". It's one of the most flat out fun and enjoyable films that I've seen this year, and I was excited to get to see it again, especially for the special one dollar ticket price.
I don't get it. He's not talking about "The November Man".
Ahem. I understood that it was a screening intended for children (which is why I got my mom to come along--I didn't want to seem like a creep). Indeed, it was shown in a large auditorium, and was very crowded. I was willing to put up with some chatter from the younger moviegoers, and even expected it as the cost of attending such a screening. There was a lot of noise before the film started, but once it actually began everyone got quiet. The only noises were laughter and other reactions appropriate to the film.
This is a marked contrast to what I experienced when I went to see "The November Man" last week.
He just mentioned the title! He's about to tie it in somehow!
Uh...excuse me, where was I? Oh, yes. There was a couple sitting behind me that completely ruined my experience with the film.
Oh no, that's not good!
Ahem! For the entire film, this couple did not stop talking. They spoke at a little above a whisper, just loudly enough to make tuning them out impossible and to give their voices the sense of Chinese Water Torture. And they commented on everything. If something particularly violent happened, they told each other how violent it was. And the plot twists! Good lord, I became conditioned to live in deathly fear of each new plot twist, because I just knew that they would feel the need to explain it to each other. Since they both seemed to be doing the explaining simultaneously, it's clear that no explanation was required, but that didn't stop or slow them down. At one point a villain, discussing another character, says something along the lines of "They're the only one who can defeat us now." The film then cut to another scene, in close-up on the character they'd just been discussing. "That's who they were talking about" the woman explained to the man and, sadly, everyone in earshot.
Wow. He's really not happy about this.
Excuse me! I'm trying to write here! It's getting really annoying having to deal with your constant interruptions! I appreciate you reading my blog, but if you feel the need to comment, there's a section down at the bottom of the post where you can do just that. There might be some people who actually want to read what I'm writing, without seeing your commentary throughout the whole thing. Save your comments for the end!
Screw you, man. You're mean. I'm leaving...
Are they gone now? Thank God.
There are sometimes that I wish I wasn't so nice. It would have its advantages to be the kind of person who could have turned around and told that annoying couple to shut up, but I'm just not built that way. I don't know where the sense of entitlement that some "movie talkers" seem to have comes from. Perhaps they feel that since they've spent money to buy tickets (and maybe popcorn and a drink), they have the right to do whatever they want in the theater. But you know what? Everyone else has bought tickets, too. Is their experience less important? The occasional genuine, natural reaction to moments of shock or humor is fine, and is what can make seeing a film with a theatrical audience a real treat. But when you treat a movie theater like it's your living room, we have a problem. And maybe you'll have a problem, too. Next time you might not be sitting behind someone as nice as I am.
Ultimately, I don't feel like I can write a review for this film. I was never able to get into it, but I can't blame that on the film. If I had to guess, it would probably be around the "C" range, with a decent performance from Pierce Brosnan. Some plot twists were better than others, but the promise of the "mentor versus protégé" conceit never truly paid off, as Brosnan always seemed to be too far ahead of the game for it to be competitive.
And by the way, this loudmouth couple...they were sitting in the seats clearly marked as reserved for those accompanying the disabled.
Assholes.
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