It was 5:15 p.m.. The film was scheduled to start at 5 o'clock. The light went down as scheduled but then nothing. Darkness. Rushing from work to make the start time I was irrationally worried I would have missed some of the film. Irrationally because everyone knows that you get at least 5 minutes of commercials before the other 15 minutes of commercials we actually somewhat enjoy before getting to the film you paid for. That didn't stop me from speeding the entire drive and run-walking (in a way my friend Mark would be proud) to my favorite seat.
But there I sat in darkness. No movement in the projector room. No one had gotten up to check. Nothing. I nervously pried myself from my seat and away from the herd and made my way back to the ticket taker. Why do I find it difficult to point out an obvious mistake? Obviously not alone in my hesitation, I left my fellow moviegoers to continue to sit patiently staring at the darkened screen. As I told the 16 year old girl wearing the Carmike Theater vest that the movie had failed to start, I started to noticed exactly what this was. As I made my way back to the theater, eager for the show to begin, the screen came to life.
The screen came to life, but little else. "Movie Tunes" continued to play. No actual sound to match what was playing on screen. I sat patiently as I watched a Coke commercial, accompanied by Celine Dion. It was a slightly surreal spectacle. After that strange display I slowly rose to my feet once again to make my way back to the small vested girl. After explaining the continuing issues, I made my way back to my seat. Suddenly the theater roared to life with the jarring sounds of Crank 2 being played at what seemed to be extreme volume, especially in comparison to the soothing sounds of Kenny G. A few seconds later the screen froze, mid Crank, and the movie we all paid for abruptly started.
About twenty minutes into the film, my mind started to race. The legs started to twitch. My knee began boucing up and down like I was entertaining an imaginary baby while on amphetamines. I shifted, then shifted again. Put my coat back on and then decided to take it back off. My companion could see something was wrong, but seemed to focused on the film to assertane what was going on. Then the words I never thought would come out of my mouth did, "Do you mind if we just get out of here?" It's difficult to describe the look that crossed Amy's face. Was it shock? No, more like bewilderment. I have never walked out of a film in my life. In fact it basically goes against everything I believe in, as it comes to movie viewing. She knows this. No matter how bad the film is, it's my opinion that if you leave you can't really share your opinion. You quit. Your opinion is null and void. The thing is, this really wasn't about the film, it was about the viewing. I will spare you my opinion on the film. I was enjoying the movie well enough and was previously very excited about seeing it. It wouldn't be fair to even tell you it's name. My viewing was broken. In this case there was no way I could acutally finish the film and then have any thoughts unto the film itself.
I left the theater feeling somewhat liberated. There was once a time that I would have suffered through the entire film, and enjoyed it less as a result. I will watch this film again and will likely recommend it, but this theater won't have my money when I do. Carmike, I wish you understood how important the experience is to many viewers like myself.