KINOMANGELSCHMERZ: anxiety stemming from the knowledge that you can’t possibly see all the new film releases and all the DVDs that come out, not to mention all the classics and arthouse films that are glaring at you from your must-see pile, demanding to be watched.
CINEMAGORAPHOBIA: an anxiety disorder characterised by a preference for sitting in the second row at the cinema rather than the front row, because the front row feels too exposed.
CREPITITIS: a pathological inability to unwrap confectionery quickly and quietly. Includes unnecessarily loud draining of soft drink containers.
ANNIHILARITY: an hysterical urge to snatch the smartphone being used during the film by the person in the adjacent cinema seat and crush it underfoot while cackling madly so they’ll be too scared to hit you.
I.N.D.I.A. (Increasing Nervousness Due to Imminent Annoyance): a specialised term used to describe the mounting anxiety engendered by other spectators chattering loudly through the trailers, the adverts, the piracy warnings, the film company logos, the studio ident and the opening credits sequence. Will they stop when there’s some dialogue, or continue to chatter all the way through the film? Your nerves can’t stand it.
MY DEFINITION OF HELL? IT’S OTHER PEOPLE, AT THE CINEMA!
REP TALES (AND OTHER CINEMA MEMORIES)
FRONT ROW CONFIDENTIAL! MY FILM-GOING MANIFESTO
- Anxiety Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (wordsloveandwitchcraft.wordpress.com)
- Best Ways to Prevent Anxiety Disorder (expertscolumn.com)
- Cinema: Not Just for Films Anymore (marketingfutures.wordpress.com)
KINOMANGELSCHMERZ, gave up standing in ‘the stream’ trying to gobble down every new morsel as it passes. (Anyone having to review it all must feel like a goose being prepared for foie gras.)
(But still have a ‘to be watched’ pile, stopped counting the number, just measure it in feet these days).
CINEMAGORAPHOBIA, front row? bonus legroom, but a bit of a bugger if you needed an ashtray.
ANNIHILARITY, the perfectly reasonable response to ill mannered oafs, CREPITITIS, the sound that indicates that you should really stop pounding their mangled remains into the floor.*
I.N.D.I.A. I did wibble on about this before, I’m not going to say much more, but further research has revealled that the bliss of comfy sonic isolation can be had for under £20, not tried it out yet, so I’ll keep stumm, until I have.
[*I’ve a nagging doubt that I stole at least part of that from ‘Sin City’.]
Yep, I live with the I.N.D.I.A affliction and I am not afraid to admit it.
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