Morning Movies

I look to my right. I look to my left. Empty seats to either side. A dozen people or less at the 9:30 am showing of Spider-Man. It’s Sunday morning, I woke up naturally after more than eight hours of sleep and head to the Alamo Drafthouse for Round 3. I love morning movies and the theater, three weeks after opening, is quiet and empty.

For all I rave about my love of the cinematic experience – the big screens, the previews, the food brought to me in my seat, the act of being completely separate from the world for a few hours – I could do without all the people who also show up to movies.

(Yes, I’m a bit of a grump, but I don’t trust most people when it comes to matching my movie-watching reverence. The general public has yet to prove me wrong.)

I seriously got a rush of euphoria seeing that I had the entire row to myself this morning, allowing me to laugh and cry with my favorite superhero in peace. (My inner dialogue when I watch Spider-Man is basically just “my baby” and “God Bless” on loop.)

The other advantage to morning movies on the weekend, besides the breakfast of popcorn and bottomless Diet Coke, is that when I walk out of the theater it’s not even noon. I have a full day left. Seeing a movie in the middle of the day on weekend awkwardly splits up the whole day, but in the morning . . . well, I might have been widdling it away reading fanfiction in bed anyway. Instead, I got dressed and put together and left the house and saw my favorite movie of the year. And after I had time for grocery shopping, a couple of hours of cleaning, finishing the fifth HP book, and watching HP3. The sun hasn’t even set.

With Love,

Natalie