Friday, October 29, 2010

Way Ahead of My Time

I went to see Paranormal Activity 2 last night-

I know, everyone was unimpressed by the first one. RIGHT. Everyone came home saying, "Oh, that wasn't scary, I laughed the whole time" or, "Oh yeah, so unrealistic, whatever..." But you know, if even for a second, when you were laying in bed that night (that moment just after you turn the light off) you thought about whether or not you should leave your foot hanging near the edge of the bed...

Needless to say, I am a huge horror buff- but I am admittedly ALSO a scaredy-cat. I love to go see horror movies and then sit in bed at night with my eyes bloodshot and baggy. I will also admit that the first Paranormal Activity turned me into a whimpering twelve-year-old girl when that bitch got dragged down the hallway and the door slammed shut. Not only do I sleep with my door closed and locked, I sometimes leave the TV on a sleep timer, and will only hang my feet out of the blanket on the side of the bed closest to the wall. I know, I'm basically a child.

So you can only imagine my delight when the second one came out. I spent an hour convincing my friend Tom to go to the movies with me (since he's an even bigger wimp than I am), and finally set out to see the 10:15 show. Eleven dollars (whaaaaaaaaat???), a bag of popcorn, a soda, and two seats in a sparsely populated theater later, we were ready to cower into each other's arms and cry while people got thrown around by demons.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. And no- it is not because the movie was bad (not as good as the first, I'll admit, but how do you follow that? It's like being Patti LuPone's understudy- it's practically in the job description), but because of the three girls behind me. We all know the terrible stereotypes- gay people lisp, Asian people are good at math, Jews collect pennies... you get the drift. While I am NOT advocating or in any way trying to perpetuate racism, I have to be honest- black people need to stop talking in movie theaters.

I don't care about watermelon or fried chicken, we all love a good homestyle meal. But for the love of God, I did NOT pay eleven dollars to sit in the dark and listen to some fifteen year old girl narrate the movie.

"Mmm-mmm, I would NOT be stickin' around if I was her, I would be OUTTA THERE." I'm glad, now be quiet. "Why is she going up there??? Is she STUPID?" Probably, it's a horror movie, now be quiet. "LOOK AT THAT PAN! Why is that pan fallin' off da rack? Nobody's even THERE!" Yes, I see that... now be quiet.

What possesses people (No pun intended) to burst out in the middle of a room of strangers and start talking? Do they think that everyone else came to get their perspective on the unfortunate events of this movie? Have they been hired by movie executives to reinforce points of exposition in the plot? In short- WHO RAISED YOU PEOPLE??? There is nothing more irritating than being on the edge of my seat, waiting for that scary moment you know is coming, and hearing from behind you, "Hey, wasn't that orange juice she's holding practically empty the night before? HA, that's a mistake..." No, ma'am, you were- and no one wants to hear you talking.

So, now that I've had my little rant, I hope you won't think ill of me. I certainly own up to my own stereotypes, and I try to amend them when I can. I hope that somewhere those girls are quietly (psh) reflecting on their actions, and deciding that next time they will only talk during moments when the reel stops working, or during boring previews. If not, I hope they will invest in Netflix...


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