Bring it on, texters!

Saw “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” tonight. It’s a beautiful, lovely film and amazingly shot by Spielberg’s DP, Janusz Kaminski. The film takes place almost exclusively in the head of a recently paralyzed man who can only use his one healthy eye to communicate with the world.

But that wasn’t the best part of my evening. I finally have a solution to the “movie texter” problem. A Movie Texter is someone who, during the course of a film, will continue to receive and send text messages to god-knows who. First of all, if you are so busy that you must continue to message the outside world at all times without interruption, then stay home. See, every time that little bright screen pops up in my peripheral view, I look at it. I can’t help it. It’s evolutionary. Bright shiny objects make humans look. It’s built into our DNA. And somehow, these Movie Texters think because they aren’t talking that what they are doing is okay. But it’s not okay to introduce an extra light source into a darkened movie theater. And if you think differently then I’m going to metaphorically shoot you in the face.

But tonight, brilliance struck. A young woman next to me started texting early on in the movie. My first thought was to switch seats, but the place was packed. So…I decided to read her text. That’s right – as she texted away to her friend John about their plans to meet up at Skybar and how she wasn’t going to wear any panties, I leaned over and unapologetically began reading. She looked at me incredulously but I just smiled and turned my attention back to her Crackberry – eagerly awaiting John’s reply. Finally, in a huff she shut her devil machine off.

So everyone – if you’re at the multiplex and your neighbor begins to text. Please – read it! And share with the class. Post any great texts you read on this blog. I think we might be able to make a coffee table book out of it.

Ok. I feel better now.
Danny

P.S. Darren’s in Vegas right now. He got a free suite at the Wynn through his girlfriend’s parents who own a travel agency. I’m stuck here in LA trying to make our next script work. But no, I’m not bitter. Bitterness is for small minds. But, on an unrelated note, Darren is an asshole.