Money for Movies

The other night I took my children to see the premiere of the movie “The Fault in Our Stars.”  Ok, I admit it.  I took myself to see the premiere.  It was only coincidence that my children asked me if they could go before I asked them if I wanted to go, and so I was able to pretend to be the world’s coolest and most indulgent Mom when really I was getting my own way.

 I’m not really going to talk about “The Fault in Our Stars,” so there won’t be any spoilers here.  However, if you haven’t read “The Fault in Our Stars” or seen the movie, I will pause now while you do so, because it is an amazing work of art that appeals to every single person I’ve ever met, including my generally grouchy husband who only tends to like movies about wars. 

 Since it was the premiere, and I haven’t gone to see the premiere of a movie since Bill Clinton was president, and since everyone under the age of 16 is obsessed with “The Fault in Our Stars,” as well as a good number of older folks, I was afraid the movie would be sold out, so I bought tickets online at Fandango.  I need to point out here that I rarely go to the movies.  It isn’t that I don’t like going to the movies, or that I don’t realize what a completely different experience it is to see something on the big screen with giant speakers coming at you from all directions.  It is more that I don’t often have four hours in a row with nothing else to do (two hours for the movie, two hours for transportation and finding seats and buying popcorn.)  Also, with my kids being relatively young, it is cheaper for me to buy the DVD, since they are going to watch it seventeen jillion times in a row anyway. 

 But, now that the Dufflets are getting older, and starting to want to watch movies that I might actually want to watch, I guess that is going to change.  That is, assuming I get a second job and/or win the lottery.  For my standard sized family of four, the tickets cost $40.00.  Only one of us is a child, because apparently 12 passes for ‘adult’ in buying-movie-ticket land.  I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that if you aren’t technically old enough to watch a PG-13 movie I don’t know how you could be defined as an ‘adult.’  One of us is a senior, but that doesn’t matter for jack in terms of pricing.  There was a $5.00 ‘convenience fee.’  I don’t really have a problem with paying a little extra to buy the tickets this way – I considered it a $5.00 insurance policy that I wouldn’t drive all that way only to be disappointed. I just hate the term ‘convenience fee,’ as if they were charging me $5.00 just to make it easier on me; like giving them $5.00 was a favor they only granted me because I was special.  I wish they’d be more honest.  I wish they’d call it a $5.00 “hey, we’ve got to make a profit, too” fee. 

 So we get to the theater, braving weather that, if it were a painting, would be called “The Wrath of God.”  I’m talking the first born slaying God of Exodus, not any peace and love and forgiveness God.  The picture I’ve attached to this post was taken from the car on the way to the theater.  Likely because of the scary weather, and the fact that it was a Thursday and most normal people aren’t willing to stay up until midnight on a Thursday, the theater was only about half full.

 Because I believe the movie going experience is incomplete without popcorn, we stood on the concession line.  For a mere $29.00, we were told, we could buy a plastic bucket of popcorn that was refillable until the end of time for only $3.75 a pop.  Figuring I would likely lose (or forget) the bucket before the next time I went to the actual movies, I passed on that bargain.  Instead, we got a giant bag o’ popcorn and two sodas (just out of curiosity, since movies are shown at night mostly, why are there not more caffeine free options?) for the low low price of $38.00.  What?  At Publix, an ear of corn is like ten cents.  How come it costs ten dollars for an ear’s worth of kernels of popcorn?  And how much was that again for watered down cola syrup?  That’s not even getting into the box of Raisinets, which I no longer buy for $5.00 because I have learned that if you buy the big box you get mostly a box, with a tiny little plastic bag inside, maybe the size bag you’d put earrings in from a craft fair, filled with a dozen chocolate covered miniscule raisins.  No thanks.

 Seriously – if you total what I spent, you outstrip the budget for some lousy movies I saw in the 80s. 

 Anyway, our wallets thus lightened, we sat down in the theater to watch the commercials on endless loop before the lights dimmed.  On time, at 9:30 on the dot, the lights did dim, and the previews began.  And didn’t hardly end.  You wouldn’t think there would be so many previews.  At 9:54 (really – I checked) we were told that the feature presentation was about to start, but it was a false alarm.  Instead, we were treated to a Coke ad disguised as a ‘don’t we have fabulous surround sound’ ad for the theater itself.  And a warning to turn our cell phones off.    

 Eventually, the movie did start, and finish, and it was every bit as heartbreaking and beautiful as the book.  It left me sobbing like a baby, trying very hard not to make any noise so as not to bother anyone else or give my children any more fodder with which to make fun of me.  I’ll tell you what, though – I resent the ridiculous money I spent on the popcorn and soda, but if they had a guy walking around the theater with boxes of tissues like the guys selling beer at a ball game, I’d have gladly forked over the contents of my wallet for the privilege of being able to blow my nose properly. 

 Lori B. Duff is the author of the Amazon ‘Hot New Release’ Mismatched Shoes and Upside Down Pizza, a collection of autobiographical humor essays.  You can follow her on Twitter at @LoriBDuff and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/loribduffauthor