Damn you, M. Night Shamwow!
Movie experience was interesting at best. I want to relay, first, my adventures upon arriving at the theatre and the whole theatre experience in and of itself.
I wasn't able to hit the pillow until almost 10pm that night (FYI: my goal before the show was to get at least a couple hours of sleep since I wasn't planning on skipping work the next day). Regardless, I managed some shut-eye, and even woke up on time. The whole gaang for that night was Kevin, myself, Alyson, and Justin; Ben had to work and wouldn't have gone anyway because he's Ben. We left the house at exactly 11:01pm and arrived at the Palace with a good chunk of time left to find seats. I had a panic attack while outside at the machine-thing when I saw through the window a whole line of ticketholders get ushered from their red-rope waiting line into an undesignated hallway (of what I assumed at the time contained the showing of The Last Airbender); but as it turns out, there were a couple of midnight showings of the movie so. We were safe.
Nevertheless, we print out our tickets (oh hell yes we do not fuck around with that ticket counter anymore) and I practically run over to the guy and am nothing but a nervous bundle of nerves. I'm asking everyone what theatre they got because we all got tickets separately, even though I knew it wouldn't have mattered anyway because screw numbers, we were all sitting together. Of course our room is at the very back of the building, and even by the time we enter, there are already kids running around with arrows on their heads, red paint on their eye(s) and ruckusing about -- which I wasn't really into; this cartoon series is srs business, young folk! Even though we made good time, there were hardly any seats left. We did all get to sit together, but it was near the very bottom, about the second row of the bleachers. Kevin said he was glad he forgot his glasses.
In order to waste the time away, Alyson and I decided to go and get the boys some ludicrously pricey Coke Icee's at the concession stand. I think we stood there for about 25 minutes before our turn came up. While we stood and people-watched, we made up a game to see if we could tell the difference between the ATLA fans and the Twilight fans. The theatre had to be packed with both because I don't know who in the hell else would be crazy enough to go see the premier of a movie at midnight in the middle of the goddamnned work week. Then again . . . well, it's here.
The major deciding factor of who was on which side was the clothing. As stereotypical and judgmental as that sounds. The Twilighters were the youngin's adorned in either purple plaid skirts, or other funky faux-goth fashions that you regret wearing far too late for it to matter. The Avatarians seemed to have had the most range to their cultural garb. A lot -- in fact, a majority -- of the people there seemed to be around our age. I might have seen maybe a handful of kids (all of which were obnoxious). Most of them were a wide diversity of college kids to potheads to young Asian guys; I think we were the only non-college, non-Asian, non-Potheads in the crew.
After we finally get the Icee's that aren't even for us, we realize it's almost time for the movie to start -- they'd already started rolling the sneak peaks and such things NOOO! However they were a bit funny; one of them was about an Owl Movie based on the source Owl Books. There was slow-mo and some Breaking Benjamin sounding music and "We must stop the fasl;kdjf Owls from taking over! We have to fight!" So, if any of you have ever wanted a Lord of the Rings style spin-off with owls? . . . Actually, there is a shitton I can say about how hilarious that movie looked, but we're not talking about the Owls right now. Or the fact that it is only slightly interesting because Zach Tyler is directing/producing it (omg fucking random).
Oh! I must back-track some! Not a whole lot; I promise.
So when we got seats, okay? There was a row of teenagers sitting next to four empty seats. I asked the girl cuddling with her boyfriend if they were taken, and she was all, "Nope!" So that was nice of her. We sit down and it isn't until I get back with the 30-minute drink order that I notice they are fucking talking a lot. I didn't think too much of it at the time, though, because the whole theatre was buzzing and chattering and whooping and what have you. The lights finally dim, and -- woah, guys, there was some shit going down with that projector machine, because the first two previews rolled without motherfucking sound. At this point my chatty neighbors aren't the least bit interesting -- I'm deathly afraid of this movie beginning with no sound to it. I'm actually starting to have a panic attack (probably mostly in my head, but my heart was pounding, too), thinking the movie is going to start and FUCK WHAT IF WE CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING. OMIGOD THAT WOULD BE THE WORST THING EVER. I'm starting to think I should go and get someone because I haven't seen anyone with a look of authority stroll in and walkie their ass to central command or wherever it is that the movie people gather and formulate to fix the sit-i-a-shion.
But after like 7 minutes the sound returns and everyone cheers. Then a few people at the top did the wave. oO Okay. Anndd oh! The neighbors. So A MILLION previews come on and my favorite couple is finding them all really amusing and commenting on every sequence that isn't loud enough to drown them out. A preview for a Nanny McFee or whatever the fuck movie came on, and holy shit. I cannot relay how much nerdiness I was feeling at that moment. Because the preview was horrible of course, but the dude neighbor started cracking jokes about the narration:
Narrator: . . . A nanny that would change their lives forever.
Dude Neighbor: Or not.
Chick Neighbor: PFFFFFF WAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!
Me: 'O_O'; . . . ~_~ . . . >_>
And it just reminded me of The Beach episode on Ember Island where Azula laughs at Chaz's unfunny joke because Ty Li told her that laughing at everything a man says even when it's not funny is the only way to land a sucker. I actually wanted to tell Kevin that but it just felt too appropriate. And geeky. Just no. I have boundaries, people.
The previews FINALLY end holy fuck, and the movie starts. I . . .
Let me just forget the movie while I explain this, because half of the experience was these two motherfuckers sitting right next to me. About an hour or so in, I couldn't take it anymore. The movie was painful enough, but on top of that, I couldn't decide whether or not their constant conversation was affecting my overall absorption of the events on screen. I was honestly torn between wanting to leave because of the movie, or the people I was situated against. While I agree the movie was hilarious -- and not for the right reasons -- and will admit that the whole theatre had resigned to ocassional chuckling and mumbles of mockery, I wasn't so hot on it happening right beside me, and at the rate at which it was occuring. It literally felt that every five minutes this guy would say something, and it was the funniest damn thing this bitch had ever heard. And yeah, the pronunciations in the movie were a little hard to bear -- mostly because other nations pronounce these names differently than we Americans do -- but that does not mean every time Katara says, "Ong," you have to go PFFFFF WAH HAH etc. NOTHING is ever that funny. This post is funnier, and that's saying something.
I ended up getting them kicked out, honestly. Yeah. OH yeah. No, you have no fucking idea how annoying these kids were. I've never felt the need to do that in any theatre during any movie, but these guys drove me to it. I was terrified to say anything to them, of course, because they're fucking teenagers and wouldn't hear it from someone who looked barely any older than they. They would have laughed at my face and gone, "PSHHHHH," and continued their conversation and abhorrent laughter without any thrown caution to my warning. So I just took care of it. It was pretty hilarious, though, when the manager came and took them out for the rest of the movie. HAHA, they looked terrified.
And I feel satisfied that I probably scarred what were two previously normal teenagers' lives. In fact, I may make a habit of doing more of these things in the future. *muses*
There was about half an hour left of the movie after that incident, and once it did end, we all went home. There was a heavy stillness.
--- Yet, through the catacombs, from the distance of the emptying cells, I thought I heard the amassing sound of a thousand souls crying out from the depths of one, great Agony. In the lobby, on the exit, a sudden and crippling psychic wave of confusion, and horror, and excrutiating admission cascaded with a frightening swiftness into its beacons, like winged invertebrates to pale fluorescence. Some, were on their knees. Others, pale shells of what were once living things -- people -- lives now dimmed as though pinpointed to a small crack of light shrouded in hopeless black. One could reach out and touch the open air. But, for all their desperation, not a single hand came to pull them out.
The movie sucked, in other words. More on that later. I've exhausted myself.
I wasn't able to hit the pillow until almost 10pm that night (FYI: my goal before the show was to get at least a couple hours of sleep since I wasn't planning on skipping work the next day). Regardless, I managed some shut-eye, and even woke up on time. The whole gaang for that night was Kevin, myself, Alyson, and Justin; Ben had to work and wouldn't have gone anyway because he's Ben. We left the house at exactly 11:01pm and arrived at the Palace with a good chunk of time left to find seats. I had a panic attack while outside at the machine-thing when I saw through the window a whole line of ticketholders get ushered from their red-rope waiting line into an undesignated hallway (of what I assumed at the time contained the showing of The Last Airbender); but as it turns out, there were a couple of midnight showings of the movie so. We were safe.
Nevertheless, we print out our tickets (oh hell yes we do not fuck around with that ticket counter anymore) and I practically run over to the guy and am nothing but a nervous bundle of nerves. I'm asking everyone what theatre they got because we all got tickets separately, even though I knew it wouldn't have mattered anyway because screw numbers, we were all sitting together. Of course our room is at the very back of the building, and even by the time we enter, there are already kids running around with arrows on their heads, red paint on their eye(s) and ruckusing about -- which I wasn't really into; this cartoon series is srs business, young folk! Even though we made good time, there were hardly any seats left. We did all get to sit together, but it was near the very bottom, about the second row of the bleachers. Kevin said he was glad he forgot his glasses.
In order to waste the time away, Alyson and I decided to go and get the boys some ludicrously pricey Coke Icee's at the concession stand. I think we stood there for about 25 minutes before our turn came up. While we stood and people-watched, we made up a game to see if we could tell the difference between the ATLA fans and the Twilight fans. The theatre had to be packed with both because I don't know who in the hell else would be crazy enough to go see the premier of a movie at midnight in the middle of the goddamnned work week. Then again . . . well, it's here.
The major deciding factor of who was on which side was the clothing. As stereotypical and judgmental as that sounds. The Twilighters were the youngin's adorned in either purple plaid skirts, or other funky faux-goth fashions that you regret wearing far too late for it to matter. The Avatarians seemed to have had the most range to their cultural garb. A lot -- in fact, a majority -- of the people there seemed to be around our age. I might have seen maybe a handful of kids (all of which were obnoxious). Most of them were a wide diversity of college kids to potheads to young Asian guys; I think we were the only non-college, non-Asian, non-Potheads in the crew.
After we finally get the Icee's that aren't even for us, we realize it's almost time for the movie to start -- they'd already started rolling the sneak peaks and such things NOOO! However they were a bit funny; one of them was about an Owl Movie based on the source Owl Books. There was slow-mo and some Breaking Benjamin sounding music and "We must stop the fasl;kdjf Owls from taking over! We have to fight!" So, if any of you have ever wanted a Lord of the Rings style spin-off with owls? . . . Actually, there is a shitton I can say about how hilarious that movie looked, but we're not talking about the Owls right now. Or the fact that it is only slightly interesting because Zach Tyler is directing/producing it (omg fucking random).
Oh! I must back-track some! Not a whole lot; I promise.
So when we got seats, okay? There was a row of teenagers sitting next to four empty seats. I asked the girl cuddling with her boyfriend if they were taken, and she was all, "Nope!" So that was nice of her. We sit down and it isn't until I get back with the 30-minute drink order that I notice they are fucking talking a lot. I didn't think too much of it at the time, though, because the whole theatre was buzzing and chattering and whooping and what have you. The lights finally dim, and -- woah, guys, there was some shit going down with that projector machine, because the first two previews rolled without motherfucking sound. At this point my chatty neighbors aren't the least bit interesting -- I'm deathly afraid of this movie beginning with no sound to it. I'm actually starting to have a panic attack (probably mostly in my head, but my heart was pounding, too), thinking the movie is going to start and FUCK WHAT IF WE CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING. OMIGOD THAT WOULD BE THE WORST THING EVER. I'm starting to think I should go and get someone because I haven't seen anyone with a look of authority stroll in and walkie their ass to central command or wherever it is that the movie people gather and formulate to fix the sit-i-a-shion.
But after like 7 minutes the sound returns and everyone cheers. Then a few people at the top did the wave. oO Okay. Anndd oh! The neighbors. So A MILLION previews come on and my favorite couple is finding them all really amusing and commenting on every sequence that isn't loud enough to drown them out. A preview for a Nanny McFee or whatever the fuck movie came on, and holy shit. I cannot relay how much nerdiness I was feeling at that moment. Because the preview was horrible of course, but the dude neighbor started cracking jokes about the narration:
Narrator: . . . A nanny that would change their lives forever.
Dude Neighbor: Or not.
Chick Neighbor: PFFFFFF WAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!
Me: 'O_O'; . . . ~_~ . . . >_>
And it just reminded me of The Beach episode on Ember Island where Azula laughs at Chaz's unfunny joke because Ty Li told her that laughing at everything a man says even when it's not funny is the only way to land a sucker. I actually wanted to tell Kevin that but it just felt too appropriate. And geeky. Just no. I have boundaries, people.
The previews FINALLY end holy fuck, and the movie starts. I . . .
Let me just forget the movie while I explain this, because half of the experience was these two motherfuckers sitting right next to me. About an hour or so in, I couldn't take it anymore. The movie was painful enough, but on top of that, I couldn't decide whether or not their constant conversation was affecting my overall absorption of the events on screen. I was honestly torn between wanting to leave because of the movie, or the people I was situated against. While I agree the movie was hilarious -- and not for the right reasons -- and will admit that the whole theatre had resigned to ocassional chuckling and mumbles of mockery, I wasn't so hot on it happening right beside me, and at the rate at which it was occuring. It literally felt that every five minutes this guy would say something, and it was the funniest damn thing this bitch had ever heard. And yeah, the pronunciations in the movie were a little hard to bear -- mostly because other nations pronounce these names differently than we Americans do -- but that does not mean every time Katara says, "Ong," you have to go PFFFFF WAH HAH etc. NOTHING is ever that funny. This post is funnier, and that's saying something.
I ended up getting them kicked out, honestly. Yeah. OH yeah. No, you have no fucking idea how annoying these kids were. I've never felt the need to do that in any theatre during any movie, but these guys drove me to it. I was terrified to say anything to them, of course, because they're fucking teenagers and wouldn't hear it from someone who looked barely any older than they. They would have laughed at my face and gone, "PSHHHHH," and continued their conversation and abhorrent laughter without any thrown caution to my warning. So I just took care of it. It was pretty hilarious, though, when the manager came and took them out for the rest of the movie. HAHA, they looked terrified.
And I feel satisfied that I probably scarred what were two previously normal teenagers' lives. In fact, I may make a habit of doing more of these things in the future. *muses*
There was about half an hour left of the movie after that incident, and once it did end, we all went home. There was a heavy stillness.
--- Yet, through the catacombs, from the distance of the emptying cells, I thought I heard the amassing sound of a thousand souls crying out from the depths of one, great Agony. In the lobby, on the exit, a sudden and crippling psychic wave of confusion, and horror, and excrutiating admission cascaded with a frightening swiftness into its beacons, like winged invertebrates to pale fluorescence. Some, were on their knees. Others, pale shells of what were once living things -- people -- lives now dimmed as though pinpointed to a small crack of light shrouded in hopeless black. One could reach out and touch the open air. But, for all their desperation, not a single hand came to pull them out.
The movie sucked, in other words. More on that later. I've exhausted myself.