Sighs and Secrets in the Dark

The possibilities for annoyance at the movies are manifest. When I was single, I preferred sitting close to the screen. My wife prefers sitting far from the screen. We settled that problem by picking a seat close to the middle but slightly more towards the back than towards the front. I think that's pretty mature of me to surrender so much space but I usually do it with an immature sigh to remind my wife of the sacrifice that I'm making.

I suppose the sigh itself could be interpreted as an aggravation (more serious an infraction than the expected annoyance) but the sigh is truly a spontaneous exhalation released more in sorrow than in anger more subconscious than conscious so I'm going to rule the sigh as an annoyance rather than an aggravation.

The next annoyance apparently happens when I lean forward in my seat at some point during the trailers. I'm a leaner. Lynn is a sitter backer. My lean is always accompanied by her sigh.

The arm rest between us almost always comes into conflict after her "you're leaning" sigh. I sigh in return and aggressively sit straight back in my seat. With this move, I tend to thrust my elbow on the arm rest that we share. Usually this move meets some resistance as I am right handed and Lynn is left handed. If I pull away immediately, I'm annoying. If I try to force her elbow off the arm rest then I'm aggravating. Naturally, I rationalize that because I've sat back in the seat and stopped leaning forward that I'm entitled to the arm rest. Lynn figures that because I leaned forward in the first place that I gave up all arm rest rights. I have no reasonother than selfishness and insensitivity to take them back.

Next, she cinches any disagreement with the aid of my incompetence and immobility. I can never find the button that adjusts the seat. By this time, her seat is perfectly adjusted and she has to readjust it to come forward enough to help me adjust my seat which she does with a sigh. 

At this point we have whatever conversation we have that we know will be forgotten forever as soon as the movie starts.

Once the movie starts, I become sensitive to lights in the background of the movie. As soon as I see a needlessly illuminated light, I will bring that light to Lynn's attention by whispering  "Honey, look at that light way back to the left. Why is that light illuminated?
 

The first time that I asked Lyynn that question, it was annoying. I knew a cinematagraphic secret that she didn't know that I knew. A secret of that sort tends to become a weapon of annoyance. When that secret is revealed and repeated it becomes a source of aggravation.

When I told Lynn what Chris had told me about lighting (which Lynn thought was foolish and wondered why professors wasted time teaching students aggravating detals like that), I warned her that from now on I'd be on the look out for that phenomena. I knew she would forget and I knew that I wouldn't. The movie was about to start so I told her that she would forget and I wouldn't. She shushed me after asking "what are you talking about."

So now when I spot a light turned on in the background of a frame it is triplly aggravating to Lynn because she always forgets that I'm looking for the light. I always remember that she forgets so when I see the light and make a point of seeing the light, she remembers that I told her that she would forget which aggravates her even more etc.

The third level of aggravation comes from the fact that Lynn is always on me about turning off the lights in our house to save money on the electricity. I have a two pronged, equiflawed defense for that question: 1) I didn't turn them on in the first place and 2) it takes more electricity to turn them off and turn them back on again than to just leave them on" gambit which is a variation of the old "why do we make up our bed in the morning if we're gonna unmake them at night?" justification that I use for my laziness.

This kind of interplay goes on throughout the movie. The better the movie, the less frequent  the aggravating interaction, the fewer the sighs and shusshes. I leave it to your imagination to visualize what happens when we are watching a crappy movie while attempting to share a bucket of buttered popcorn.

I watched Citizen Kane yesterday which is Donald Trump's favorite movie. I noticed the lights a coiuple of times. The first time I noticed was when title character Kane was reading his celebrated and doomed "Declaratiion of Principles". As Kane begins reading he adjusts a lighting fixture on the wall. Slowly Kane turns the gas light off, which puts not only the character but also his Declaration into sinister, shadowy, doubt,

The second time I noticed a light in this undisputed cinematic masterpiece is at the point in the film when Charley has annoyed and aggravated his second wife Susan Alexander, to the point of suicidal exhaustion. He stops by her bedsie to "soothe" her. Right next to Charley and Susan on her bed stand is a lamp. The lamp is emphasized in the shot with deep focus. We're supposed too notice the lamp.

The lamp is clearly unlit.

If I could get Lynn to sit and watch Citizen Kane with me, I'd point all of this out. She doesn't want to watch it. She' seen parts of it and find it "annoying."

Sigh.