The woman in front of me would not stop talking. It was a performance of Sunset Boulevard at the McPherson Playhouse last Friday. The talker, 40ish with long, dark hair, chatted to her companion every 15 seconds through Act I. No exaggeration.
Why did she do this? Was the sippy cup of white wine in her hand a contributing factor? It was almost impossible to concentrate on the show.
At intermission, I mentioned this to an usher. However, he said it鈥檚 up to the audience members to admonish yakkers. (This surprised me, but I later phoned the theatre鈥檚 administration and learned that鈥檚 鈥渄efinitely not鈥� their policy.)
We Victorians love the arts. For a smaller city, we have an unusually active cultural scene. This is good.
But I think we鈥檙e slipping in one regard: theatre etiquette.
It鈥檚 not just me. Lloyd Fitzsimonds, executive director of the McPherson and Royal theatres, says he attended a k.d. lang show where the person behind him sang the words to each and every song. With great enthusiasm. Off-key.
Mark Dusseault, the Belfry Theatre鈥檚 communications director, still remembers the time people stalked out of a Belfry show in mid-performance. This causes a disruption for the rest of the audience, not to mention the actors.
The exiting theatre patrons complained they didn鈥檛 like the show. And they hadn鈥檛 been informed it was musical. The show鈥檚 title: Urinetown 鈥� The Musical.
Here are my six rules of etiquette, culled from decades of theatre-going.
Rule No. 1: Stay in your seat. It鈥檚 bad enough when it鈥檚 two minutes to curtain and some dolt dashes in and makes half a row stand up to let him 鈥渟lip in.鈥� (Do you notice these people rarely say excuse me?)
Even worse is the person who keeps dashing off to the bathroom or the bar in the middle of the show. Theatregoers 鈥� attend to your bladder and/or rampant boozing beforehand. Or wait until the intermission like a normal human being.
Rule No. 2: Keep your feet on the floor. I remember going to Silver City to see a movie. A teenager sitting behind us propped her sneakered feet on the empty seat beside me for the entire show. Annoying. She paid no heed to my pointed looks. Afterward, I said to her: 鈥淵ou really need to wash your feet!鈥� She seemed unconcerned. But these feet did not smell good, believe me.
Rule No. 3: No snuggles. Occasionally, a couple in front of me will angle their heads together in order to enjoy special intimacy time during a performance. If this lasts for five seconds or less, it is acceptable. If it lasts longer, it鈥檚 not OK because your love-struck noggins impede the view. Have your special intimacy time before or after the show.
Rule No. 4: No maniacal laughter. How many times have you gone to a comedy, only to be distracted by someone with a super-weird laugh? Once you notice it, this cackling is like fingernails perforating your eardrums.
If you have a weird laugh, please contain your mirth. Don鈥檛 know if your laugh is peculiar? Ask friends to tell you a joke, then have them assess the resulting guffaws.
Rule No. 5: No candy eating. Why do people eat candies at the theatre? It鈥檚 a complete mystery to me. Do they think, 鈥淎h, a night at the theatre. Sounds fun, but it also seems 鈥� incomplete. What could be missing? Oh I know, stuffing my cheeks with sugary goo, even though the practice is utterly pointless and possibly even dangerous to my health.鈥�
A couple of weeks ago, I sat behind a guy who manipulated his bon-bon bag like a maniac. He made those awful crinkly noises. In addition, he made wet sucking sounds, like some horrible masticating alien.
Rule No. 6: Leave your stupid cellphone at home. Unless you need to phone a cab after the show, leave your mobile at home. If you must take it, avoid holding it in the Statue of Liberty pose while you take a picture and/or video of the band. This impedes sightlines.
If your cell goes off during the theatre, ballet or opera, do you know what the performers and audience feel like doing? They feel like ending your life right there and then. After your life has ended, they鈥檇 like to toss you unceremoniously into a shallow grave.
After which they鈥檇 like to dance on your grave. And then they鈥檇 like to invite their friends to that grave-dancing party, especially if these friends are into vigorous clogging or Irish step-dancing.
Sorry. Got a little heated. These are my six simple rules of theatre etiquette. Heed them. Please.
(Got a favourite story about bad audience behavior? Please send it to [email protected])