As movie theaters worked to entice Americans back into seats after COVID-19 lockdowns and labor strikes, the industry marketed blockbuster films like Wicked and the dueling releases of Barbie and Oppenheimer as no less than cultural events.
But when certain movies become “events” unto themselves, sometimes different behavior accompanies them.
During the theatrical run of Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour last fall, fans danced and belted lyrics in the theaters, sharing their glee on social media. Last year, fans at early screenings of Wicked did the same, to the chagrin of other moviegoers. One video of a woman dressed as Glinda the Good Witch racked up over a million views on TikTok and beyond for her announcement to the theater:
Photo: AP
“I’m here to hear Cynthia and Ariana sing, not you,” she said.
After a period of growing accustomed to watching movies only from the comforts of home, Americans have been slowly returning to theaters following COVID-19 lockdowns. Along the way, as attendance spikes, the question of how to behave as part of a moviegoing audience has become a topic of passionate online debate.
When asked whether it’s appropriate for fans to sing in the theater, Wicked star Cynthia Erivo, who plays Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, said that she thinks the practice is “wonderful” and that “it’s time for everyone else to join in.”
Photo: AP
Dwayne Johnson, who stars as Maui in Moana 2 said that theatergoers who have spent their “hard earned money for a ticket” should be able to sing.
Online backlash was swift, with one user saying, “I paid my hard-earned money for a ticket too and I don’t wanna hear y’all attempting to sing so what now.”
It all circles around two questions that, like anything else in the culture, are constantly evolving: When you’re seeing a movie in a theater, how should you behave? And when can a viewer become a participant?
THEATER TRADITION
Actual in-person disruptions at movie theaters appear minimal. Representatives from Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, a prominent chain known for diverse film screenings and food service, and ACX Cinemas, a family-owned chain based in the Midwest, both say they’ve experienced nothing major.
The instinct to join in is hardly new.
“Sing-along screenings have been a principal part of moviegoing going back over 100 years,” says Ross Melnick, a professor of film and media studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara. But singing, he says, typically occurs in “designated sing-along environments where it is clear that there’s a collective performance of the audience.”
According to Esther Morgan-Ellis, author of Everybody Sing!: Community Singing in the American Picture Palace, American film screenings in the late 1920s and early 1930s were often preceded by sing-alongs. An organist would perform three or four popular songs and audiences were encouraged to join in, often guided by lyrics projected onto the screen. In other cases, the sing-along would be coupled with a short film that included lyrics and a bouncing, on-screen ball that would hop across the words to help audiences keep tempo.
While singing has long been common, other behaviors were once hotly debated. When movies were a new medium, Americans quarreled over not just the content of the films themselves but the venue at which people viewed them. Was the dark room a hotbed for vice and immoral behavior? Should films be screened with the lights turned up? Should talking be allowed or forbidden? And, of course, there was segregation; movie theaters were not fully integrated until the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.
“We have never been a monolithic society. Not ever, and increasingly so now,” Melnick says.
“You can tell so much about America by looking at what’s going on in its movie theaters.”
In 1944, MGM, the film studio that had produced The Wizard of Oz just five years prior, released a short film titled Movie Pests that warned moviegoers against engaging in disruptive behavior. Some of the film’s concerns — sticking gum under chairs, removing shoes — are still considered no-gos today. But the short also showcased etiquette of another era, such as removing jackets in the lobby and using the hat rack under your chair.
Today, acts of participation can be more ad hoc. One Ariana Grande fan account started an online firestorm after posting on X that users should share photos they’d taken of their favorite scenes from Wicked. While some commented and posted their own photos, others responded with snarky remarks. One clap-back came from the Alamo Drafthouse account, which said, “Or, don’t do that.” The theater chain has a no-talking or texting policy, and violators are ejected after one warning.
Chaya Rosenthal, Alamo Drafthouse’s chief marketing officer, said the policy “is all about respect — respecting the films, the filmmakers and fellow moviegoers who paid for a ticket who deserve an immersive experience.”
SING-ALONG SHOWINGS
To allow visitors to choose their preferred viewing experience, theaters have offered special sing-along showings of Wicked. The Main Cinema in Minneapolis declared screenings on Mondays (and “Mondays only”) as singing-friendly. Universal Pictures, which produced Wicked, began holding special sing-along screenings of the film starting on Christmas Day.
When fans of Taylor Swift caused a ruckus in 2023 by dancing and singing along during screenings of Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour, Michael Barstow, the executive vice president of ACX Cinemas, saw the hoopla not as a nuisance but part of the draw.
“The reason why they paid money and went and saw that inside movie theaters was to have a dance party with other people,” Barstow says. “That’s something we should lean into and embrace and try not to be too much of the fun police in those auditoriums.”
To draw people back to the theater, movie distributors and theater owners have expanded the types of experiences they offer. ACX Cinemas hired actors to dress as characters from Wicked and Moana to take photos with visitors and hosted a themed brunch at its affiliate restaurant. Theaters have begun offering slates of themed popcorn buckets to accompany tentpole films — sandworm-shaped buckets for Dune 2 and gothic coffins for Nosferatu.
Even before pandemic lockdowns, theaters were upgrading sturdy plastic chairs to comfy leather recliners, and waiters at bespoke theaters began offering seat-side dining service (often at the cost of interrupting viewers to hand them the bill).
Alamo Drafthouse hosts “movie party” events where interaction is encouraged and its strict no-phone policy is void. Attendees at a special Magic Mike XXL screening were given fake money to throw at the screen, and visitors were encouraged to dress in regency garb for tea party screenings of movies like Pride and Prejudice and Emma.
And though unique theater experiences may be rising in notoriety, decades of late-night screenings of The Room and The Rocky Horror Picture Show have enticed devotees to adopt unorthodox viewing practices. Longtime viewers gather at regular screenings to shout synchronized snark, toss items at the screen and even act out the movie.
“It’s really hard, what we all do, especially coming out of the last four years,” Barstow says.
“The fun part is, all gloves are off as far as being creative and trying things. And that’s exciting.”
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