Why I am never going to another movie again

I don't go to movies very often. I don't really enjoy the whole movie-going experience. Mostly because I am a magnet for the smelliest, tallest and loudest people in the theatre.

The person who has bathed in perfume or smoked a pack of cigarettes right before the show always picks a seat right beside me. The tallest person in the theatre always sits right in front of me. The loudest talkers sit right behind me. And all of these people arrive two seconds before the movie starts, which means it's too late to find another seat.

Last night was the final straw. My sister Hilary and I went to see Million Dollar Baby. It was the first time I had been to a movie in months. In case you haven't seen Million Dollar Baby, the plot is pretty straight-forward: Troubled girl wants to box; troubled man eventually agrees to coach her; girl eventually breaks her neck; girl asks coach to kill her since she cannot do it herself; he agrees. End of story. Not very complicated.

But the basic plot seemed to be beyond the grasp of the couple sitting directly behind us. The husband spent the entire movie pointing out the obvious, like "He's writing a letter to his daughter" or "She bought her own punching bag." Plus, they seemed to get confused a lot, "Who's in jail?" or "What is she talking about?" And they spoke really, really loudly.

This went on every five minutes for the entire two hours. I'm not kidding. I turned around at least four times to glare at them. Glaring at someone in a dark theatre is pretty pointless but I was too spineless to actually ask them to be quiet. Besides, in this city you never know who's going to pull a gun on you. Yes, they were a married couple in their 60s. But still.

At one point, after one particularly inane comment, I whipped around and yelled out "Jesus Christ! Are you really that stupid?" Well, technically, I yelled out "Jesus Christ!" and then muttered "are you really that stupid?" under my breath after I turned back to face the screen. Unfortunately, they didn't hear me (or they chose to ignore me).

Despite the running commentary, I didn't really *get* the movie. I mean, what was the point? Yes, Hilary Swank was fabulous but, uh, that's about it. I was pretty disappointed. Not because she died but because it wasn't all that interesting. And if the whole mercy killing sub-plot was supposed to be thought-provoking or controversial, well, it wasn't.

I might have liked it more if I had rented it. Renting a movie vs. going out to a movie wins every time. It's cheaper, I get to wear pajamas, I can lie down on the couch, there are no loud talkers, tall people sit beside me instead of in front of me, the snack bar is always open. I don't know if I'll ever go to another movie again.