Strength In Numbers

Last Friday night I ventured to Coolidge Corner to see comedian Mike Birbiglia's new movie, "Sleepwalk With Me." Based on the book of the same name, "Sleepwalk" tells the true story of how Birbiglia juggled a fledgling stand-up career, a fading love life and a rare sleep condition which causes him to physically act out his dreams while he is still asleep. The film (if something is playing at Coolidge Corner it is a film, not a movie) was, in a word, great. It deftly told two stories simultaneously: how hard it can be to chase your dream when everyone wants you to follow a different path and what it is like being in a relationship which doesn't appear to have much of a future. Neither of those are normally ripe for comic fodder, but I laughed the whole way through the movie. Admittedly I was a Birbiglia fan before this, so I probably went in with a little bias and predisposed to like the film. But, considering I think all movie critics carry some kind of agenda into the theaters with them, I figure I shouldn't be any different. Plus, everyone around me seemed to enjoy it, so I don't think it was just me putting a positive spin on things. Anyway, it's a small, independent feature and isn't playing everywhere, but if it is in a theater near you I would definitely go see it. However, as seems to always happen when I go to the movies, the real show was going on around me.

I hadn't been to see a movie on the day it came out for quite a while. Because Friday was the first day "Sleepwalk" was playing in Brookline, the theater was very crowded, which I was unaccustomed to, but at least it made the place ripe for people-viewing. It also made it kind of hard to find seats unless you got there very early (which thankfully we did). Coolidge Corner isn't the biggest theater around, but everyone should have been ok to seat themselves, only some people were very keen on saving seats. Now, I'm not going to crush someone who wants to keep a couple extra seats for a friend who may be running late, because I think we have all done this at one time or another. But there are limits to how much leeway I'm willing to allow. For example, I think four is the maximum number. The woman a couple rows in front of us appeared to be saving at least six for her group of friends, none of whom apparently own a watch that works. Also, I feel like saving seats should be limited to the row which you are currently sitting in. Because the theater was filling up quickly this woman was forced to improvise and save some seats in the row behind her by draping her scarf over a couple of chairs. A couple people shot her dirty looks, but ultimately sat somewhere else. I think she was lucky to have pulled this maneuver in a town like Brookline, because something tells me 'scarf dibs' are not respected in every Boston suburb.

Of course, this does raise the larger question of why we feel the need to save seats at all. As soon as the people you are saving seats for arrive the lights will be going down and everyone is expected to be quiet, so why does it really matter if your friends are next to you or a couple rows over? It is not like movies are a social activity (that is why they make such bad first dates), nor are they meant to be. You are there to listen and watch, not talk. I'm willing to grant you that we all make the occasional comment to the person to our immediate left or right, but if you are in such a large group that you need to turn all the way around to make your snarky remark than you are talking way too much for the movies. You will see your friends after the film is finished and can chat then. If you have such an overwhelming desire to be able to tell these people about your day while a movie is going on than you should rent something and watch it in your living room where you can talk over it until your heart is content. Otherwise be quiet, because I can assure you the people around you that aren't part of your group certainly don't care that Becky from down the hall is using up all the toner in the copier making flyers for her band.

I assume part of this comes from the fact that saving seats is one of the first human activities we learn, starting way back in first or second grade. You want to eat with your friends and since there are only eight chairs at those little tables, you are forced to either guard them with your life or run the risk of the seats being filled with people you don't like and discovering that you have accidentally ended up at the lame table. (Sadly, we don't learn until we are much older that the other table is always going to appear cooler). It probably shouldn't be a surprise that after a couple years of that being written into our brains we always feel the need to save seats, even when it doesn't really matter. But now this has clearly gotten out of hand. There are literally armies of people at awards shows whose only job is to make sure no one takes another person's seat. If we feel compelled to carve out our own mini-colony at every public event than how are the rest of us supposed to know when it is actually important that you have room to operate or if you just want your friends to have good seats even though they obviously didn't care enough to arrive early like the rest of us and therefore don't deserve them? This is why I need to think we should start putting limits on how many seats people can save per year. Make them worth something, you know? So, to sum up: I think you should go see "Sleepwalk With Me" but only do so in small groups so as to not feel like you suddenly own the theater. I'm sure even Birbiglia would agree with my plan.