Why was the person sitting next to me at Deadpool eating a full cheese board? (2024)

I love watching movies. I really do. From black and white pretentious artsy fluff, to the kinds of slasher films they banned in the eighties, to weird experimental sci-fi, to whatever superhero slop is about to make a billion dollars this year, give me films and give them to me in abundance.

But I hate – really hate – watching movies in a cinema. I miss a lot of new releases because the idea of going to a movie theatre and having to sit next to a member of the general public (shudder) while I’m trying to take in my stories fills me with the kind of dread usually reserved for actual adversity. I know that streaming is killing the industry, but it’s difficult to be upset about it when it means I don’t have to suffer through a bunch of kids kicking the back of my seat or stage whispering “hilarious” comments to one another.

Case in point: a couple of weeks ago I went to the midnight release of the new Deadpool movie. Sure it’s lowest common denominator stuff, and Marvel has been on a bit of a downswing for a while, but I’m not made of stone. I was looking forward to seeing some explosions, and references to things that I recognise. Look, there’s Jon Favreau!

I’d bought a premium seat, less for the comfort, and more because I foolishly surmised that people who paid more for their tickets might be better behaved – that’s on me for being classist. Right before the lights went down, the person next to me took their seat, and pulled out – I’m not kidding about this – a full charcuterie board.

Look, I understand that concessions in movie theatres are expensive. If you think you can get away with stowing an extra bag on Munchies on your person, then by all means have at it. But this was a full deli platter and a selection of cheeses. This guy laid them out on his lap, and spent the next two and a half hours picking away, and I got to see, hear and smell the entire production. At one point I turned to look at him, and he offered me a piece.

Guys, what are we doing here? I’m not usually one to fall for moral panics, but when you’re eating Pecorino at the pictures, it’s officially time for a full cultural reset. What has to happen in a person’s life that they think to themselves “You know what this screening of Deadpool and Wolverine really needs? The sound of me chowing down on some Parmigiano Reggiano”?

It’s not just cinemas that have become Mad Max-style wastelands where etiquette goes to die. Adele recently had to shout at an audience member who chose one of her concerts as the perfect moment to air his anti-Pride views. Imagine going to an Adele concert and getting mad about Pride. It’s like going to a Broadway show and getting mad about… well, Pride, I guess.

Or how that phenomenon last year of concertgoers flinging objects at the performers? Look, I don’t like country music either, but you paid to be there. Accept your mistakes and be polite about it.

Those are bad, but they’re also largely a US issue. The UK doesn’t have much going for it anymore, but by God we know how to be polite, even when it’s to our detriment. If we’re going to start bringing cured meats to the cinema, then we may as well slap a couple of stars on the flag and giving our children names like “Tyler”, because we’re officially no better than the Americans.

I lived over there briefly, and I can tell you, we do not want our standards of public life to dip to their level. These people clap when a film ends. They clap! It’s a slippery slope, is all I’m saying.

So do everybody a favour, and leave your charcuterie at home. If you simple must stuff your face with olives and pate while you’re being entertained, think about waiting a few weeks and renting the movie on Amazon. Because the next time somebody unwraps a cheeseboard next to me in a darkened theatre, I might not be so polite about it.