I’m 40, and after church, movie theaters are sacred spaces of joy. I value theaters so much that in my will, I’m donating a considerable percentage of my estate to the Brattle Film Foundation. I don’t even go to the Brattle that often. I just want it to survive as long as possible so future generations can see the Director’s Cut of Blade Runner. I am fortunate that I live in a region with some of the best small theaters in the world: Somerville Theater, Capitol Theater and Kendall. There are also plenty of amazing movie theaters run by non-profit institutions: the Harvard Film Archives and the Museum of Fine Arts. I actively encourage my friends to attend these theaters since chains like AMC and Regal will always have big audiences.
Coolidge Corner Theater is not close to me. It is one hour thirty minutes away by walking, my preferred mode of transportation, 20 minutes by Uber, which means that it will cost over $10, and over 45 minutes by the T, including the Green Line, if everything is working (everything is usually not working). People encouraged me to check it out, and I was extremely pleased. First, Coolidge has amazing popcorn, second only to Somerville Theater. Second, it is like the Brattle Film Foundation. Third, there is a charming tiny theater with armchair seats. Fourth, the selection of movies is usually strong. Fifth, it is in a vibrant neighborhood. So Coolidge joined the club, and I began to encourage people to go there. Would it get a place in the will like Brattle? Not after yesterday, and I may never go again.
I’ve never had a bad time at the movies. Not even when I saw mice crawling up a curtain during the middle of The Human Stain. I just changed seats. It was an old theater being renovated. Not even when I unwittingly sat next to a guy who was mentally ill and started following me around after the movie ended. Mentally ill people have to see movies too, and let’s just say, I won that standoff with no words or actions or assistance, just a look. I’m from NYC. Not even when a guy started peeing in the middle of the movie. I got assistance for that one. Shout out to the movie theater employees at Harvard Square. I miss you guys! (And that was an AMC theater that closed and still remains vacant).
Well, I had my first bad experience yesterday, but if it was just mine alone, I would have dropped it and chalked it up as a bad day. Unfortunately for my fellow movie patrons, it wasn’t. A friend and I decided to see The Witch. The Witch is playing at a ton of theaters that are closer to me: Somerville Theater, Kendall Theater, AMC Boston Commons, Regal Fenway, AMC Assembly Row, Showcase Cinemas Woburn, AMC Burlington. I went to Somerville last weekend. I’m always going to Kendall. I already mentioned why I try not to go to chains. Coolidge is closer to my friend, who used to go to Coolidge all the time, but actually encouraged me to go to a closer chain. I understand why now, but I had not been there in awhile so I agreed to go to her home base and show my support.
I was filled with joy. I just completed the hour and half walk on a sunny unusually warm day for Massachusetts in winter. I arrived at Coolidge Corner. I bought my ticket for the 12 pm showing of The Witch. “You can’t go in until 10 minutes from now.” “Got it. I’ll just wait over here (motion to the cement partition that divides the stairs from the other side of the walkway).” “No! You can’t go inside the theater…” “No, I understood what you said. I’ll just be over here.” She gets it. Someone is having a bad day. Still no big deal. I go to Somerville Theater. They won’t open the doors until 10 minutes before the first showing. I just walked for almost 90 minutes. Cold is not an issue.
Tons of kids and parents are leaving the theater. I watched as patrons are buying tickets and told the same thing. They joined me at the partition. Then I noticed 2 or 3 guys going in. Hmmmmm. No one was taking their tickets. Oops. Hope that they bought tickets. I went in. Used the lavatory. Bought some popcorn and stayed by the concession stand because obviously theater wasn’t be ready. I watched as the same person who was selling tickets is now letting people in except each person gets an individual admonishment applicable to their situation, and it isn’t pleasant. I wish that I had recorded it with my cell phone. She sighed as if she has the hardest job in the world, and maybe she does. Every person reacts with a slight individual face of shock, “Ooooh” after an interaction with her-men and women.
Not all of them are seeing The Witch. A well-dressed elderly woman as she is going upstairs is being chastised by the former ticket seller. THIS bothers me. I didn’t catch everything that was said, but I’m watching. No one coming in to the theater before or around 12 pm feels welcomed. Actually they feel the opposite. Did we pay to go to media stereotypes of the RMV? Media stereotypes of the RMV aren’t fair. I’ve had wonderful experiences at the RMV. I see my friend. She is told to wait outside because apparently the 10 minute rule is still in place even though it is later than when I arrived and entered. She points to me and says that if I’m in, why can’t she go in.
I actually don’t have a problem with the ticket seller/taker’s answer. There is apparently a fire penal code that blocks people from staying in the lobby until the theater is open because of the number of entrances. Ticket seller stops taking tickets, comes up to me and tells me to wait outside. I say no because I saw other people come in. She says they were going to a different movie. I understand that. I’m still not going outside. She returns to take tickets, stops, comes back over and says, “The line for The Witch is outside.” OK. (She is full of malarkey as VP Biden would say. When they come inside, there is no line. Just people entering a theater. The theater showing The Witch is huge and considerably roomy when I finally decide to go into it). She is on a power trip. This is her theater, and I wonder if I just entered a Candid Camera style skit inspired by Experimenter or The Stanford Prison Experiment. If I had not bought the popcorn and started eating it, I would ask for a refund of the ticket and leave.
I can’t enjoy a movie after watching patron after patron being treated rudely and abruptly. Selling and taking tickets is an inherently neutral act. You don’t even have to be pleasant. I’ve had indifferent ticket takers reading or studying while serving me. After the movie, my friend and I complain to the manager. The manager explains that they are short-staffed and the fire code restrictions. This doesn’t explain why the ticket seller/taker treated the well-dressed elderly woman rudely. The manager promises to talk to her and offers me the contact information for the general manager. As my friend and I leave, we see the ticket seller/taker chatting and laughing with her fellow co-workers. My friend is happy that I encouraged her to speak up, but explains that this is why she didn’t want to go to Coolidge anymore. My friend says that even though these are women, they will discount us as emotional even though we weren’t. Nothing will change.
What do I want? I wanted an apology, not just for me, but for all the patrons who silently let themselves be the emotional punching bag for someone else’s bad day. We don’t pay for experiences like this. Certain people should stay behind the scenes and not interact with the public. I understand that on the spectrum of bad movie experiences, this one may seem mild, but usually fellow patrons cause bad experiences, not the staff. At this point, I can’t imagine making the special trip to go to Coolidge Corner Theater @thecoolidge ever again….unless I want artisanal rudeness with my popcorn.
