Over the weekend I had the pleasure of seeing “Monsters University” as a birthday outing with my husband who is not, in general, fond of animated movies.
We decided to catch a matinee hoping that it would be cheaper and less crowded than an evening showing. It still wasn’t cheap, but at least the crowd was relatively light. This turned out to be a good thing because even in a sparse crowd and even sitting in the second-to-last row of the theatre we managed to get a screaming baby behind us.
There was ONE goddamn row behind us. One. And we still had the full ear-splitting, chair-kicking obnoxious small child experience.
Babies do not belong in movie theatres. Period. Hire a goddamn babysitter for two hours. No one wants to sit in front of a screaming baby on an airplane and no one wants to sit in front of a screaming baby in the movie theatre. The only difference is that a screaming child on an airplane is an unavoidable annoyance: I remain convinced that this is secretly why TSA confiscates everyones sharp objects before flight. Everyone has to just grin and bear it: You can’t leave your baby at home for a weekend and no matter how loudly or often he or she opens his or her fat, screaming milk-hole it would still be frowned upon to open the cabin door and chuck that sucker into oblivion.
By contrast, a movie is only going to last two or three hours: your baby won’t suffer life long abandonment issues over two or three hours. Unlike a plane, a theatre has multiple well lit exits that can be opened without a loss of cabin pressure, a comfortable lobby, readily available mouth-filling-cry-supressing-gluten-free-popcorn (is your baby too young for popcorn? Then it shouldn’t be in the movie theatre!), and no dead eyed middle aged security guard wearing blue latex gloves ensuring that nobody around you is carrying anything sharper than a tampon. At least not yet.
Now, granted we were in a Pixar movie and it was geared towards a family friendly audience, but still it’s a movie about monsters! If your spawn is too young to use words then he or she is too young to understand the difference between pretend movie monsters and reality. If a monster roars on screen then babies are going to cry, your fellow audience members are going to hate you, and the money you save now by not hiring a babysitter is just going to go towards therapy and/or bail later.
I wish I could say that this problem could have been avoided by going to a grown up movie and by going in the evening instead of going to a matinee, but I already know that this isn’t true: last year we went to see “Ted” in an evening showing at the same cinema and once again shared the audience with several children young enough to require a bottle.
I can’t decide whether I should worry for the future of the human race or feel secretly delighted that with so much stupidity around I look like a friggen genius by comparison.