I have never been a huge fan of movie theaters and was trying to avoid them long before coronavirus first made headlines—that is until A Quiet Place Part II lured me in.
I hate the smell of buttered popcorn. I hate ringing cellphones and crying toddlers that pull me out of my immersion. I hate sitting through trailers for soulless Hollywood blockbusters I’m not interested in seeing. I hate film students telling me to enjoy their short films that conveniently double as glorified Coca Cola commercials.
These are all things I don’t have to deal with when watching Netflix in bed, so when my brother convinced me to come see A Quiet Place Part II at our local Regal, I thought I would be in for a pretty annoying evening. In the beginning, it definitely seemed so. The guy who handed us our tickets warned me that the seats may be “a
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