by Vincent Hooper and Susan Adalla

Cinema is an art form, a collective experience where strangers come together to lose themselves in stories larger than life. But why settle for being just another faceless member of the herd when you could rise above and ensure that your presence becomes the highlight —no, the main event — of the evening?

Welcome to the ultimate guide for becoming the most unforgettable (and, yes, despised) patron in the theatre.

Let’s start with your outfit, because first impressions matter. Subtlety is for amateurs — choose something that guarantees attention. A flashing LED jacket that syncs to music? Perfect. A feathered hat so large that it could double as a sunshade? Even better. Remove your shoes immediately upon sitting, letting the earthy musk of your socks fill the air. Extra points if your socks feature toe holes for added discomfort to those around you.

Of course, your phone is your most powerful tool. Keep it bright enough to rival the projector’s bulb, and don’t forget to let it ring at full volume with a ringtone like “Baby Shark” or “WAP”. When it inevitably goes off, answer with gusto: “Hey! Yeah, I’m at the movies! Oh, it’s fine—what’s up?” Take your time wrapping up the call, ensuring everyone knows your life is far more interesting than whatever’s on screen.

Snacks are another essential weapon in your arsenal. Bring the loudest, crinkliest treats imaginable, and unwrap them with all the subtlety of a chainsaw. Better yet, upgrade your game with full meals. Spaghetti and meatballs? Perfect. Bring a small picnic complete with sparkling water and wine glasses that clink during quiet moments. Make sure you spill something — preferably sticky — on the floor for that lingering reminder of your presence.

Now that you’re settled, it’s time to engage with the film. Applaud at the wrong moments, like during a tragic death or a villain’s monologue. Treat quiet, emotional scenes as your cue to laugh hysterically. If you’re feeling particularly avant-garde, bring a laser pointer and aim it at the screen. Your commentary is essential. Guess the ending out loud — incorrectly — and offer deep insights like, “This is just The Lion King but with robots.” Bonus points for loudly complaining that “The book was better,” even if the movie isn’t based on one.

Your movements should have as much flair as your behaviour. Arrive late and stumble through your row, stepping on feet and spilling drinks as you go. Shout, “What did I miss?” while blocking the view of at least three people. Take frequent bathroom breaks, announcing each trip with, “Sorry! Bladder’s terrible!” And when you return, carry something absurd, like a giant bag of nachos or an inflatable neck pillow.

If the movie isn’t quite doing it for you, bring your own entertainment. A Bluetooth speaker blasting an inappropriate soundtrack can really liven things up (“Sandstorm” during a romantic kiss scene, anyone?). Or pull out a book and start reading aloud. When someone protests, snap back with, “I’ve seen this already, okay?”

For the truly daring, treat the theatre as your living room. Stretch out across multiple seats, placing your feet on the row ahead. Remove not just your shoes but your jacket, socks, and possibly a blanket that you brought from home. Snore loudly during quiet scenes or hum tunelessly to yourself if things get slow.

Exiting is your final act of chaos. Make it slow and disruptive. Knock over a soda or two, brush past seated patrons like a one-person wrecking ball, and loudly complain about the ending: “That’s it? What a waste of time!” Pause dramatically at the doorway, silhouetted by the lobby lights, and mutter, “I could’ve directed this better.”

For an encore, hijack post-movie conversations with your unsolicited analysis. Compare the film to unrelated classics (“It’s just Jaws in space, really”) and deliver a monologue about how cinema peaked decades ago. If the crowd doesn’t yet despise you, this will seal the deal.

Remember, being the most annoying person in the theatre isn’t just about bad behaviour—it’s a statement. You’re not merely watching a movie; you’re starring in one. Sure, your fellow patrons may groan, glare, and whisper curses under their breath, but isn’t that just another way of saying you’ve made an impact?

After all, in the grand cinematic experience of life, everyone else is just an extra in your feature presentation.

My girlfriend and I are not into this, so for a few extra dollars we book the VIP luxurious leather lounge seats away from the madding crowds. I am always complimented on my leather trousers. More popcorn!

Image by Frank Rietsch from Pixabay

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