So I went to see Catching Fire today. Figured what with it being my day off and all, plus this free movie pass, why not? Besides, I really like going to the movies by myself. Never have to worry about the other person talking, breathing loudly, or smacking on their popcorn or gum. Worse is when they insist we sit in the aisle instead of the handicapped.
'Giggilymesh, we can't sit there. What if some veteran wants it?'
So? He can ask us to move. No big deal.
'Why do you want to sit there anyway?'
Uh...I don't know maybe because they're the best seats in the house!!
Seriously, think about it. Unlimited leg room, easy access to the bathroom, perfect angle in which to watch the movie, and best of all nobody can block your view. Ever. It's the best. Also it's great because I have a slight problem with twitching. It's not uncontrollable or anything it's just I like to move my legs. A lot. Cross, uncross them, sit on them, fold them to the side, drape them over the arm chair. You name it.
But the movie is 2 hours and 26 minutes and my bladder is the size of a walnut.
So there I am bouncing up and down in my seat like jack rabbit on speed, tapping my foot, because good grief there is a beach scene, and a giant wave crashing, not to mention the only clean water trickles from a spout. My biology was not programmed to take such abuse. So after tracking down the bathroom (clear on the other side of the fecking theater), it occurs to me: in the olden days of Hollywood cinema there were these wonderful--nay glorious!--things called intermission.
What the fuck happened to those?
Titanic could have used one of those.
So could Saving Private Ryan, The Dark Knight, Lord of the Rings etc. Clearly there is a market for this!
I mean this is not a new concept. India uses this in Bollywood films all the time. You take a break, stretch your legs, get something to eat, talk about what you think is going to happen, leave if you think it's shit, stay if you think it's great, check your phone, do a dance, and (oh yes) go to the bathroom!!
If not this, then theaters either need to keep the men and women's washrooms together or build more than one of each if they're separate so I don't have to go marching clear across the lobby to to the loo muttering vulgarities under my breath while a portrait of Humphrey Bogart looks down in what I can only hope is pride rather than contempt (for whom, I can only assume is major Strasser). Either way potty emergencies should not hamper a movie going experience. Especially if your feature film is over two and a half hours long.