I say this every time I go to the movies, but I really think I am done seeing films at the cinema (apart from perhaps one or two a year that I just cannot wait to catch at a later time, in order to avoid spoilers).
A couple weekends ago my wife surprised me with tickets to see the filmed version of Hamilton in the theater. This is the version that has been available on Disney+ for years, but seeing it in a theater would be a fun way to enjoy it again, and it also included some brand-new behind-the-scenes footage to celebrate the tenth anniversary. Of course, nothing can compare to seeing it live on stage (which I was fortunate enough to do when it was being toured around the U.S., thanks to my then-girlfriend buying tickets as a Christmas gift for the Greensboro N.C. leg of the tour).
We showed up at the movies and immediately the vibes were off. Maybe they were off because I’m old and grumpy, or because I was not a theater kid and never really matched their energy. But there was no denying, something was going to be different about this screening.
There were several large groups of people who had all come to the theater together, to make this some kind of shared experience among their personal friend groups. Some people wore Hamilton costumes and dressed up like their favorite characters. And lots of folks were being loud and disruptive, even before the trailers (let alone the film) started.
Then the lights dimmed, and 30 minutes of trailers later, the familiar opening welcome started playing on the screen.
That’s when the singing started. Bear in mind, this was very much not a sing-along showing of the film. That didn’t stop most of the people there from singing anyway. Some of them tried to mouth the words but little whispers gave them away. Others seemed to get pleasure from “accidentally” singing and demonstrating that they knew every word. The result, though, was an auditorium filled with people whisper-singing the words, many of them incorrect, to a three-hour-long musical.
About ten minutes into it, the audience was clearly split into two camps: the people singing, and the people who would rather die than listen to one more millisecond of their fellow audience members’ caterwauling. The less engaged started pulling out phones to stave off either boredom or frustration. As the room lit up, the singing grew worse.
At intermission, my wife and I looked at each other, both wanting to leave but neither wanting to be the one to suggest it. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by making her think I didn’t like my surprise gift. She didn’t want to hurt my feelings by making me think she was miserable or uninterested in it.
But thankfully we both agreed we’d rather be anywhere else, so we left, got dinner, and made it home before the movie would have ended. It’s a decision we very much appreciated.
Seeing films at the cinema just isn’t the experience it used to be. When I was a kid, we had tiny (yet thick!) TVs, standard definition, and mono speakers. Going to the movies and seeing the giant film while hearing it in brain melting surround sound was an adventure. It didn’t hurt that back in those days, people knew how to stay quiet and respect others’ experience. But now, I can see a 4K HDR version of a film at home on my huge (inexpensive!) TV screen a few weeks after it arrives in theaters. And even better, I can do it without listening to others, or being taken out of the experience by people lighting up their faces with their phones. That’s not even taking into consideration how exorbitant the fees are for even a single matinee ticket!
Add going to the movies to the list of things me and my fellow millennials have killed. Good riddance, really.