Your memorable movie-going experiences

I made the 'mistake' of watching the History Channel's documentary "Last Stand of the 300" before seeing 300 in the theater -- back when the History Channel still made some effort to live up to its name. Couldn't figure out for the life of me why there wasn't a single mention of Themistocles or the Athenian navy until I saw the Frank Miller comic years later. Unlike after I saw Prometheus, however, I was more befuddled than angry.

One of the best recent experiences was seeing A Quiet Place alone in a big theater (Wednesday afternoon matinee). Some horror movies might be best experienced in a crowd, but the absence of any in-theater noise played well with the film's conceit and helped build tension.

One of the worst: seeing Guardians of the Galaxy on opening weekend in Abu Dhabi. As I learned much to my chagrin, movie-going culture and etiquette varies widely in some parts of the world -- kids running around, people talking and looking at their phones throughout the movie, etc. When Peter's mom died -- perhaps the film's one genuine attempt at an emotional beat -- the guy next to me took a call and had a lengthy, thoroughly audible conversation right where he sat. Fortunately, most of the movies I saw in theaters while I was there had much smaller and better-behaved crowds. I guess the likes of Oculus and V/H/S didn't have quite the pull of Marvel.

 

13-year-old me snuck into "There's Something About Mary," and during the zipper scene at the beginning, I nearly fell into the aisle laughing uncontrollably. No movie before or since has made me laugh harder during a first viewing than that one.

 

Pulp Fiction was great for the audience reactions. I was just out of college when it came out. Trainspotting was another good one for crowd reactions ... despite its heavy subject matter, there were several LOL moments.

 

I think there were other attempts at emotional beats in that movie, such as Quill's speech and the other members of the group standing with him, but they didn't always land in part due to the humorous tone.

I think I've told the story before of taking my then 13-year-old nephew to a matinee showing of Dawn of the Dead. I was visiting my brother and his family and my nephew really wanted to see it. Nobody else in the family really liked horror movies, but I decided to be the good uncle and volunteer. We were the only two people in the theater, which was in a local indoor mall. For those who don't know the movie, it is about a group of survivors trapped in a mall during a zombie apocalypse, so our location added a level of creepiness. Near the end of the movie, a theater employee opened the door behind us and my nephew jumped. I was surprised he didn't scream, too.

 

My Rocky Horror in-theater experience was the exact opposite of those described by everyone else in this thread.

I was in college -- 1982 or '83 -- and even though I hadn't seen the movie, I was very familiar with the story and the music. At some point in every party, someone would play the album and we'd sing along with the songs and dance the time warp, etc.

So I was on my first and last "date" with this young lady I had a huge crush on -- date is in quotes because it quickly became clear this would be a let's-just-be-friends deal. We went to see some live music (don't remember who), and afterward somehow Rocky Horror got mentioned and I said I hadn't seen it. She said, "Oh my God, you HAVE to see it! Let's go to the midnight movie!"

So we did. I went in expecting to see the costumes and the squirt guns and newspapers and toast and hear everyone shouting at the screen, and...

Nothing. It was just a typical movie audience.

Very disappointing.

 

Ask Sly, he’ll tell you it was a real fight against Drago.

 

As for my memorable movie experiences:

No. 1 without question was the first time I saw Casablanca, which I say without hesitation is the greatest movie ever made. I saw it at a small repertory movie house near my college campus. The place was packed, and the audience was really into it. When Louie delivered the climactic line near the end, everyone in the place stood and cheered. I've never seen that happen in a movie theater before or since.

When I was a little kid, my parents used to put the kids in our pajamas, lay out blankets in the back of the station wagon and take us to the drive-in. We did that quite often, but the only specific memory I have of the films themselves was the time we went to a double feature of Dr. No and Goldfinger -- maybe the only time I managed to stay awake through two movies.

At age 8 or 9 I went with my older brother to see the Beatles' Yellow Submarine, which was amazing. When it ended (with the final chorus of "All Together Now"), we decided to stay and see if they would chase us out before the next movie. They didn't so we stayed to see The Alamo, starring John Wayne. That was a particularly big deal for me because it was rated M (now known as PG) and I felt like I was getting away with something.

Speaking of Yellow Submarine, when it came back to theaters a few years ago, I took my kids to see it. I told them it was part of their schooling -- a history lesson to teach them about the psychedelic '60s. FWIW, they thought it was very cool.

I remember being wowed by Star Wars on seeing it as a teenager when it was released in the summer of '77. I remember being wowed even more when I saw it drunk a couple months later.

 

Forgot one.

Took this freshman girl who worked with me on the college newspaper staff to see Treasure of the Sierra Madre at the above referenced repertory theater. She was quite cute, but had a very loud voice and a very loud, annoying laugh.

"We don't need no stinking badges" was a big running gag at the paper, so she had heard it a lot -- but she had no idea where it came from. The scene with that line is a very tense, dramatic scene, and the theater was quiet. But as soon as the bandit says that line, this girl lets loose with a top-of-the-lungs laugh and screams, "Oh my God! That's so funny!" Meanwhile, I am ducking in my seat next to her and trying hard to become invisible.

 

My father used to take me and my brother to a drive-in near church while my mother did whatever ungodly thing Southern Babtis' women do together on Thursday nights. Snuggled in blankets in our pajamas, we'd watch whatever was on the big screen until we dozed off. I have vague memories of seeing Monty Python and the Holy Grail during one of those Thursdays.

One time, Dad was disappointed to find the main attraction was a cartoon. He loved Warner Brothers shorts, but a feature-length movie? He shrugged and got out the newspaper, the SEC Football Digest and whatever else he had on hand to read to kill time. About ten minutes in, we complained that we were bored. This was like Baretta, only without the cool bird and everyone was an animal and they kept pulling their pants down. That was when he discovered he'd taken us to see Fritz the Cat.

Decades later, I made two attempts to see the rerelease of Fantasia. In Memphis. It went about as well as you'd expect.

Attempt 1: A couple decided to break up about five minutes before the movie started. And...they stayed for the movie. She cried the whole time. Sometimes it was just sniffling. During the Night on Bald Mountain segment, she started wailing like Nancy Kerrigan after she got attacked with a lead pipe. "WHY? WHY? WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHY WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" My boyfriend at the time, who was a film major, turned to me and said he was having the same reaction. He promised to bring me back if we could leave and go see "Silence of the Lambs." I'll get to that one in a minute.

Attempt 2: A skanky couple sat a few rows back. She was allllllllllllllllll essahted 'cause she loved Meekee Mayouse. Then the movie started.
"Why is it all just music? When does the story start?"
People started shushing her.
"This is stoopid. Why doesn't this have a story?"
Everyone was pretty bold about shushing. She sighed and said, "Fine. Watch your stupid music movie."
She was quiet for maybe ten minutes and then:
"Where the hell is Mickey Mouse? I came here to see Mickey Mouse. Where is Mi-"
A form, a large form stood up. I recognized him as one of the musical theatre majors (as in opera performance.) At the time, it seemed like he blotted out the screen. Now I knew this guy to be one of the sweetest, gentlest, souls in the College of Arts. That night, he would have made Jules Winnfield cry like Mary Decker.
"I AM WATCHING THIS FILM. IT IS NOT MY PROBLEM IF YOU FAIL TO SEE IT AS ART. HOWEVER, YOU NEED TO KEEP THAT TO YOURSELF OR I WILL COME UP THERE AND END YOU AND YOUR GENTLEMAN FRIEND. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
About halfway through this, the lights came up and movie stopped. Opera Guy looked like a William Blake drawing. The couple looked like they'd crawled out of a James Agee photo. They tried to shrink down in their seats.
The room was silent.
People applauded and Opera Boy sat back down and gave a wave to the projectionist as if to say "You may resume."
We enjoyed the rest of the movie in peace.

And finally (you have probably already skipped down to read how somebody lost their virginity during an art-house screening of The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, but I'm gonna tell it anyway.) Biffrend and I went to see Silence of the Lambs. In case you've forgotten, Buffalo Bill likes to kidnap big girls in Memphis. Biffy turned to me during the kidnapping scene and said, "He looks scrawny. Do you think you could fight him off?"
We were in Memphis and I worked nights at an earring store in a mall. In Memphis. And I was not a small woman.
I turned to him and hissed, "Oh, you are NOT getting sex tonight!" just as the movie got very quiet.

 

Oh, god. You pushed my button. Half a dozen stories fighting to get out.

I went to see "Time After Time" with the woman I'd later marry the week it came out in 1979. Malcolm McDowell plays H.G. Wells, David Warner plays a friend of Wells who unknown to Wells is Jack the Ripper. Mary Steenbergen as the girl he meets in the future. Briefly, Wells shows his newly invented Time Machine to a couple of friends inc. Warner over drinks at his house. Warner the Ripper leaves there, carves up a girl, is seen and pursued by the cops. He flees and breaks into Wells' home, jumps on the time machine, quickly and randomly sets a date and pulls the lever. Disappears and escapes.

The date he set was the day we were watching the movie. Cue the Twilight Zone music.

Audience says "Oooooh", and there's some muttering. Next scene is running, Ripper has landed in modern San Francisco, you can see the Golden Gate.

Guy in the back pipes up "It's ok, he went to San Francisco!"

The place came apart laughing.

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I was a serious Rocky Horror cultist in '77, '78. The Film Forum in Atlanta ran it at midnight and two a.m. on Fri/Sat and midnight Sun. I saw it a couple of hundred times. I dressed up, I danced, and I got real good at the lines. There's nothing quite like the crowd at a Sunday morning 2 A.M. showing of Rocky. After I moved to Houston, didn't go very much there. I had pretty well burned out and I had no friends in the crowd. I went back to school at the University of Houston a year or so later. I saw flyers around campus for a showing of Rocky in the student center but pretty much dismissed it. So one day I walk in the student center and they've got it playing on a screen with seating for a couple of hundred. There's maybe sixty or eighty people watching the movie and no one says a word. Dead quiet. A whole audience full of virgins. I decided that I owed it to myself, and to them, to show them what it was really about.

Fortuitously, along about then Brad and Janet's car breaks down... and I went into full bull-goose looney Solo Rocky mode. Left it all on the field. I did Rocky as a one man show. Drop a good line with solid delivery and felt like Dangerfield. It was great, but it was insane. Then again, if I missed a line they didn't know. LOL.