An open letter to the guy in front of me playing with his phone
Hey, man, I get it.
We’re watching a dumb summer blockbuster.
We both know where it’s going and how it’s going to end.
So I understand why you’re feeling bored, and how you’re wishing the final credits would hurry up and roll. The woman with whom you came seems to be enjoying the film a lot more than you. I’m thinking she’d like to watch it in peace. So would I.
What I don’t get is why you think it’s OK to pull your smartphone out and start playing with it. You’ve got one of those jumbo screens with the brightness turned high enough to light up a game of night baseball — I guess because it’s hard to read the small print in the dark, right? — and you’re making no effort to shield it. Your boredom has become my distraction. Your phone is shining like a spotlight into my eyes. I’m having trouble following the film, even one like this where there are more explosions than plot turns.
Your phone is obviously bothering other people besides me, although your companion isn’t reacting. Perhaps she’s used to this behaviour.
I can see that you’re not a heart surgeon or a worried parent, checking to see if a patient or child needs your urgent attention. You’re just idly scrolling the web, pawing through stories and social media.
I was annoyed, but I kept it civil — politely whispering, after you’d been doing this for 10 minutes, to kindly put your phone away. You didn’t react well. You acted like it was some kind of affront.
Who do I think I am? Don’t I know how important you are?
And now you’re huffily pretending to not bother me by typing on your phone with the screen turned sideways, as if that makes any difference.
Actually, that’s almost worse. Your phone is now bobbing in the darkened theatre like a firefly in the night, which is great if you’re sitting around a campfire but not if you’re trying to watch a movie.
I’m actually puzzled as to why you think it’s all right to do this. If you’d rather play with your phone than watch the movie, why not go out to the lobby, get a coffee, and do all the scrolling and texting you wish?
Your rude behaviour is certainly not unique, sad to say, and I don’t think the movie has anything to do with it. I’ve seen people texting during Oscarwinning masterpieces and during world premieres at TIFF, Cannes and Sundance.
Perhaps you’re not really a movie fan. Maybe you don’t go out to see films all that often and you only went this time because your companion dragged you along.
But you’re old enough to know better and also old enough to remember a time, not so very long ago, when people didn’t bring telephones or bright lights into movie theatres. The worst thing we had to put up with back then was someone chattering away during the film or kicking the back of our seat — and there used to be ushers to shush or remove people who disturbed the peace.
There are no ushers at most movie theatres now, so we have to put up with the older annoyances plus the new one introduced by digital devices pinging, ringing and shining in the dark.
Friend, there has to be something you do enjoy attending, perhaps a concert or Blue Jays game — places where they don’t ask you to turn off your phone. Imagine how you’d feel if you were watching a great band or an exciting playoff game, and a guy in front of you was shining a flashlight directly into your eyes.
Did you know that Cineplex now delivers movie snacks to people right in their own homes? Maybe the company realizes that many people would rather watch a film on a smaller screen in the relative calm of their living rooms than put up with all the distractions in theatres.
The service would also work for people like you, who don’t know how to behave in public. Stay home, order popcorn and play with your phone to your heart’s content. Everybody wins.