---- Original Message ----- 
From: <moteeko@telerama.com>
> Quoting erhoek@comcast.net:
>
>>He also was at the film I went to Wednesday night. Rather then
>> > singing, this time, he spoke every thought that came into his 
>> > head
>> > out loud about the film we were watching.  Worse, the film we 
>> > were
>> > watching was "A History of Violence" and he seemed to think it 
>> > was a
>> > comedy. A lot of laughing, an amazing ability to make incorrect
>> > assumptions of plot twists, followed by "YOU GOTTA BE KIDDIN' 
>> > ME!!".
>> >
> Oops. I sometimes have a tendancy to pull MST3K moments in theaters. 
> Many years
> ago, during a screening of Enter the Dragon, I noticed an odd pause 
> after Bruce
> Lee delivers the line "you have offended my family...and you have 
> offended the
> Shaolin temple..." the scene hangs for a second before cutting back 
> to Han as
> they battle in the mirror room at the end of the flick. The next 
> time I saw the
> movie, during the pregnant pause, I yelled out "and now...you gonna 
> DIE!" The
> first three rows leapt to their feet screaming "Bruce on the loose! 
> Bruce on
> the loose!"

On very VERY rare occasions, I find that kind of thing acceptable. 
The only recent example I can think of was when we saw KILL BILL 
VOLUME ONE, early in its run with a full house and a fairly giddy 
crowd who was in the proper goofball spirit of that movie.  At the 
point where the single adolescent boy is left to face down Uma and 
he's quivering under the weight of his sword, some guy in the back 
said, "Now, see, ya scared. Ya scared now, aintcha?"  Okay, now that 
was funny.  But any additional commentary after that line just sounded 
lame and forced.

I once inadvertantly caused a mild uproar during a screening of Russ 
Meyer's MUDHONEY at the Coolidge Corner.  I don't even remember the 
line of dialogue that preceded it, but something one of the characters 
said caused me to involuntarily, and louder than I meant to, say "Ew." 
It happened right at a point in the soundtrack that meant that 
basically everyone in the theatre heard me, prompting a good-sized 
wave of giggles.  I spent the rest of the screening slumped almost 
horizontal in my seat with the hood of my jacket down over my face.

Back in the years before the folks at the Toronto International Film 
Festival wised up and started showing a pool of about half a dozen 
different intro screeners before every program, there got to be a new 
heckle of the screener every year, which would be sporadic in the 
first couple of days of the festival and increasingly ritualized by 
the middle, so that by the closing night's Midnight Madness program, 
literally every person in the big screening room at the Uptown (RIP) 
would scream the same thing at the same moment.  That was always kind 
of cool, although the heckles themselves were always kinda dumb.

S