Reel Talk - - "The Gothika Incident"

*I have this crazy work schedule for the next week or two so it may be a bit longer before I get some new reviews up, but in the meantime I think it would be a good time to start my new feature, Reel Talk, where I tell you some crazy but true stories that have happened to me involving movies.

First up . . . The Gothika Incident.


The movie was trash. It was boring and it wasn't scary which are the two biggest death knells for a horror movie. I was a fan of Dark Castle, the production company behind this movie, "House On Haunted Hill" and (an old favorite) "13 Ghosts," so I went to see it even though I'm "eh" on Halle Berry.

I am sitting in the theater with my friend Craig and his daughter Jackie. The movie is chugging along at a snail's pace and a half hour in I realize this movie sucks.

But you know what makes a sucky movie even suckier? People talking.





I hate it when people talk in a movie theater. At home, hey go gangbusters. Talk through the whole thing I don't care. But when I'm sitting in a theater keep your mouth shut. I paid money to see this movie and so did you so let's all act like your time is just as valuable as mine.

A group of people, maybe three or four, begin talking about whatever. Not movie related, just what they're thinking at the time. And I'm getting pissed off. In between the crap on the screen and what I'm dealing with in the theater, I'm ready to lose it. But I don't. I don't because I'm there with two of my friends and I'm going to be civil and be an adult.

Then another group of people start talking.

I'm boiling at this point. There are now two separate conversations going on. I look at my watch. The movie has almost a half hour left, maybe more.

Now, I used to have a temper. But the thing with having a temper is you try to justify it. I lean over to Jackie and whisper: "Are those people talking bugging you?" See, because if she says "yes" then I am justified in flipping out.

Jackie knows this. Jackie says "no."

I'm gritting my teeth. The movie is in the final act. The killer is about to be revealed, who we all knew it was all along anyways because, again, the movie was just terrible. . .and this couple in front of me says, at normal speaking volume "I bet the cop did it."

I lost it.

Into the darkness of the theater I opened my mouth and as the first few words were shouted out I felt Jackie's hand on my arm. She tried to stop me, but she knew she couldn't. People who know me generally describe me as loud. That's my normal speaking voice. I'm sure the couple in front of me thought a bomb had gone off. I took all my drama training, spoke straight from my diaphragm and shouted:

 "If I wanted the commentary I'd buy the fucking DVD. Shut the fuck up!"

The theater was silent for a quick second when the first group of talkers responded "Hey, you're the one talking now!"

Jackie spins around in her chair. No longer the calm one she yells, "You guys have been talking the whole time!"

I stand up and point to the darkness of where I heard the two conversations coming from throughout the movie and I point "Shut the fuck up!" turn to the next group "Shut the fuck up!" and then leaning down over the couple seated just a row in front of me "Shut the fuck up!"

Jackie's dad Craig was just eating some popcorn. Just chilling.

The movie plays out. The crowd in the theater is dead quiet. Now I'm sitting in my chair wondering how many people I'm going to have to fight through to get out of the theater. I don't know who exactly was talking and how many there were. I realize I'm with two friends and I can't expect them to throw down. I lean over to Jackie again. "You guys leave. I'll meet you outside at the car."

The movie ends and I'm on my feet. I look out into the theater and raise my arms like "get some." Best to be proactive, right? Nothing happened. Everyone shuffled out of the theater.

Craig thought the whole thing was pretty funny, and a few more times we went to the theater he would joke about me flipping out. Craig and I took my friend Gherkin to a Final Destination movie where we both laughed while Gherkin was on the verge of having an anxiety attack every time someone got killed.

But that's another story.