The Theater

The line was long, and you feel as though you’ve been waiting for nearly a score. You finally made it to the front and the girl behind you squints in envy. It’s not your fault you arrived first, but impatience is known to birth resentment. You don’t even notice her. As you walk up to the window at the box office, you think back to what your family suggested. “Sharks and Leeches” is the highest grossing film of the year, so it’s difficult to argue against their case. However, you remember the trailer for “Color” looked far more fulfilling, despite the fact that it’s an indie film.

You glance to your left to find the girl from the line, excitedly purchasing her ticket to see “The Woman in the Kitchen.” It’s a wonder that movie is still playing. Everyone knows the story, so it’s not as though this girl has much to look forward to. When the cashier asks you to please pick a movie, you blurt out “Sharks and Leeches.” Unfortunately, you delve in your wallet to find you’re three dollars shy of a ticket, so the man in the window asks you to wait while he speaks to the manager.

            

The line is longer than when you arrived. It’s always been out the door, but you have to wonder if the theater will eventually reach its maximum capacity since there are more people arriving than leaving. What about the popcorn and ICEEs? The machines have never seemed to run out before, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. You wonder about the mass of loiterers hanging around the lobby, and if you’ll soon be one of them, begging for three dollars. Why don’t they just leave? If one can’t see a movie, then is there a point to being in the theater at all? The cinema is elegant with its Corinthians and friezes, but it’s certainly not perfect, and it doesn’t seem logical that anyone should spend their days staring at the walls when there are motion pictures to see.

The cashier comes back with his manager, who tells you that they’ll let you in because you seem like the kind of person they’d like to entertain. They’re friendly people who smile at you, so you smile back graciously and proceed to the ticketing agent, forgetting all about the line and the machines and the lingerers and even “Color.” As your ticket gets ripped in half, the anticipation builds up inside you. This is the movie of the year, as it’s been for many years. You’re excited, despite the fact that you know the ending already. Everyone does.

“Auditorium 8, to your right.”

On the way over, a colleague from school calls your name and waves you over. There’s still fifteen minutes of previews to account for, so you walk over to say hello. As you approach him, you notice something’s off. The energy you once felt resonate from his being has been altered. Nevertheless, you ask how he’s been, what movie he’s here to see.

"Fan-f*****g-tastic! I’m seeing ‘Never Enough,’ but I had to make a quick run to the bathroom because this ICEE has been running right through me. What are you here to see? I was thinking about poking my head in to try out ‘The Bangers’ but I was also kind of curious about ‘Carnalval.’ They both seem like fun flicks. Did you hear about the chick that got kicked out of ‘The Woman in the Kitchen’? Apparently,she started some sort of riot and convinced all the other women in the theater to chuck their cherry ICEEs at the screen. What a waste, that movie is a classic. What are you here to see, again?”

Before you get the chance to answer, your old buddy shoves his blue raspberry ICEE in your hand and runs off to the restroom. You look down to find the blue crystals glistening at you, practically begging you to take a sip. One pull from the fat straw is all it would take to satisfy the curiosity. Just as you lift the ICEE to your lips, your eye catches sight of scrolling LED lights, broadcasting “arks and Leeches " 5:20PM.” You can practically hear it calling. The ICEE slips through your fingers, but the custodian will clean it up. Besides, it’s already 5:37. The previews are over.

By the time you reach the auditorium, the ushers are gone and the lights are off. You notice the theater is actually quite empty, so it’s not difficult to find a seat. The film is only a few minutes in; you didn’t miss much. The plot is admissible, to say the least. The characters are all very intense, but they don’t seem to uphold any sense of value, or even individuality. Only a half-hour into the film, and you’re already squirming in your seat. You can hear the seconds ticking by, popcorn being munched, ICEEs being slurped. It’s all very maddening. The green EXIT sign beckons to you, but your family will be curious to hear what you think of the movie. They’ll be disappointed if you don’t share every scene with them. So you sit through it, in a quiet misery.

Every once in awhile, there’s a funny or romantic scene that makes you think the bang is worth the bucks you didn’t pay. But you soon realize it’s just like every other movie, with the same dead-end finale. It’s inescapable, but you somehow find your way out of the auditorium. You should’ve gone to see “Color.”

When you emerge, the manager is standing outside the doors. He’s smiling again, but he says something about three dollars and twenty cents, and he hands you a mop. You take it, unquestioning and ungrudging. The blue puddle and extra large cup are exactly where you dropped them. Only, your friend from earlier is kneeling over them, tongue out, ready to begin lapping up the sticky, blue mess.

You ask him why he doesn’t just buy another ICEE and let you clean the floor.

“Too expensive. This one was perfect. It was all I wanted. I’ll be damned if I don’t get my money’s worth. Hey!” He jumps up, “You saw ‘Sharks and Leeches,’ right? What’d you think? I heard it’s not for everyone, but it’s still somehow the most popular movie out. Funny how things like that work, don’t you think? I really wanted to check out ‘Color,’ but they stopped playing it. I heard it’s really good, but apparently people were confused and it made some uncomfortable. There wasn’t an ending. No kidding, the credits rolled and the film ran out, but there was no ending. I’ve seen people come out of the theater, scratching their heads and gnawing at their thumbs. It’s freaky. I really wanted to see it, too. It’s a shame it got cancelled. Anyway, I think I’ll go get another ICEE.”

By the time he reaches the back of the line to the concession stand, you’ve finished cleaning the mess up. In an instant, the manager is in your face again, smile absent. He tells you that since you didn’t finish the movie, you have to work off the ticket you were loaned. Consequently, you’ll be sentenced to custodial work,whereby you can still have the occasional glimpse of a scene from select theaters. If you disobey, you’ll be sent to the lobby. Alternatively, the green EXIT sign calls your name. Your family will be so disappointed. You should’ve gone to see “Color.”

Reviews

[roarke]

I know this place. I like themes of insanity... weird, quirky, stuff that grows on ya. I might suggest that you don't engage the reader by the use of the word "you"... write this from a character's perspective, give him/her a name. Or make it first person. Keep the dream-like passage of time going, but also add more intimate angst, bring out the existential quality along with the surreal setting. Creative stuff. Very original.