Well, really, I hate going to the movies. Over the weekend I was called upon to see Star Trek again, as a sad lonely man I know didn’t want to go by himself, and for some inscrutable reason I went. I knew this was a mistake, because seeing movies in the theater multiple times almost always is. Here’s a complete list of movies I’ve gone to see more than once in the theater:

Jurassic Park
The Lost World: Jurassic Park
Jurassic Park III
The Phantom Menace
The Two Towers
The Green Mile
Star Trek

Some of these movies I like and some I wish I hadn’t even seen once, but in every case except the original Jurassic Park, seeing it twice was a huge mistake. The theatrical run of even a hit blockbuster is just too short to go back and see the movie that big and that loud a second time. Anything you didn’t like about the movie the first time just seems amplified, and because you’ve seen it once before you’re able to notice all new things that bother you. In all but one instance, I’ve come away from a second theatrical viewing of a movie liking it far less (or hating it even more, depending on the quality) than after seeing it the first time. There just isn’t enough time in a theatrical run for you to come back to the movie fresh.

But I already knew that going in, so Star Trek just further confirmed it. What I really came to realize, though, is that I hate everything about the moviegoing experience. When I was a little kid, able to take delight in even the simplest of pleasures, and my family never went to the movies more than twice a year, I really looked forward to the experience. But now that I’m an ugly, hate-filled, borderline anhedonic monster, I just can’t stand it.

Movie theaters have given up the biggest advantage they had over television. Back in my day, there weren’t any commercials shown on the movie screen. But now, in addition to trailers before the feature, they run ordinary commercials for cars and sodas and upcoming TV shows that I would never in a million years watch.  And they run them big and loud. Five years ago I completely stopped watching TV, in part because there is nothing on TV I can even imagine being interested in watching, but mostly because I couldn’t stand commercials. I hated having my viewing experience interrupted by somebody desperately trying to sell me something I neither need nor want. Now I can’t escape from this even in the movie theater, and I imagine the day where, just like TV, the movies are interrupted for commercials cannot be far off. And I’m talking about interrupted for explicit commercials, not interrupted for commercials the way every Will Smith movie is where he just starts shilling.

And in addition to all the commercials for Lexus and Sobe, they showed a TV spot for the upcoming movie Year One, which they then showed the theatrical trailer for moments later. Let me tell you, I almost threw up I was so enraged.

Don’t even get me started on the people in the audience. They’re always laughing so much. What the hell are you laughing at?! Just because Will Ferrell said something, that does not mean it was funny; in fact, I can all but guarantee you it was not. People in the theater are always laughing at jokes that aren’t even on the same continent as funny. But what’s worse, they laugh at things that aren’t even jokes at all. Something just happens, a loud sound or a guy looking at something, and it will elicit laughter from the kind of subcretinous troglodyte that goes to the movies. Or take the lady next to me at Star Trek, who gave a noisy and disgusted “Ewww!” every time a new kind of alien appeared on screen. If you don’t like to look at aliens, why are you watching Star Trek? And also: Experiencing revulsion at the sight of people that look different from you? That’s a little thing I like to call prejudice, lady.

Can I go ahead and tell you about the old woman who was sitting behind me when I saw Blues Brothers 2000? If you don’t remember the movie, there’s a scene where the Blues Brothers and Joe Morton, the policeman who has been doggedly pursuing them, are at a tent revival meeting. The power of the music so moves Joe Morton that he flys up into the air shooting sparkles from his body, hollering about how he “feels the calling of the blood,” and lands wearing the signature suit/hat/sunglasses Blues Brothers outfit. He proceeds to join in the singing and dazzle everybody with his musical chops. About five minutes after this happened the old lady behind me leans over to the old lady next to her and remarks: “Ohhhhh, now he’s a Blues Brother.”

And clapping? Who claps at a movie? If you do, you are an idiot. Nobody who made the movie is there, and the people on the screen cannot hear you. Who are you expressing your appreciation to? The only people that can hear you are the other people in the audience, and I hardly think sitting still for two hours deserves a round of applause. STOP FUCKING CLAPPING! You are just making terrible noise!

Plus I have all the usual complaints: the uncomfortable seats, the sticky floors, the crying babies, the people talking, idiots who will not stop going to the bathroom, people who keep banging into the back of your seat. Really, the only good thing about going to a theater—seeing a film print projected large—is vastly outweighed by all the annoyances and irritations of overpriced, watered-down soda and all the trailers being for movies I would never want to see.

I’m going to start lobbying for DVD home-viewing to become the way all movies get their initial release. Let’s just get rid of movie theaters altogether. Movie theaters suck. Who’s with me?

If You Hated This, You Will Also Totally Hate:

• Plot Holes in Star Trek and, Why Not, Jurassic Park
• Star Wars Memories, Vol. 1
• Missed Opportunity
• My Favorite Scene in Jurassic Park
• Looks Like I Don’t Get to See Whatever Works