If a comedy is shown in a movie theater and nobody is there to see it, is it still funny?

Always lead with your chest.

I went to the Holland Star Theater today to see Extract.  In the previous sentence, ‘went’ is a strong word. ‘Went’ implies that I casually popped over to catch a flick. In fact, first I allowed Google Street View to show me around the school of strip malls where the theater supposedly sits but as much as I moved the strangely warped flying stick figure through the landscape I didn’t see it.  I drove to the location anyway because, heck, this is how they did it in the good old days before technology was invented and again, I didn’t see it.  I explored the depths of strip malls, drove diagonally across empty parking spaces in a huge lot (the only appeal of parking lots, but a great one) and almost gave up when I turned one last corner to see the Star Theater.

The lobby was quiet and I purchased my ticket with a credit card but without having to sign the receipt that’s made of movie ticket.  I don’t understand why some receipts are made of movie ticket and not normal receipt paper.  The experience of signing that tiny stub and then passing it back to the teenager only to have them pass back the actual ticket plus the take home receipt, also made of ticket that you have to check three times to figure out which one is the ticket and which is the receipt – you know that experience? I’ve never taken to it.

The popcorn was pre-arranged.  I like when my popcorn bag is filled to overflowing with the giant scoop out of the huge window-vat of popcorn.  I’m not so sure about the same window containing orderly, pre-bagged corn. I felt like I was selecting a pastry – “I’ll have that one over there, third from the end on the right…my right, your left.” It was eerie to have the popcorn waiting under the counter.  By nature popcorn is haphazard, wild, messy, and spontaneous. Why fight it?

I took my red bag and went into the theater.  Besides me, there was only one couple in attendance, and they had selected the perfect seats.  I commend them on their shutout.  Any seat I could have selected was too far to the left, right, forward, back, or awkwardly near them.  I settled in, pulled up my hood because that seat fabric has most certainly never been washed, and slumped down for the marathon of vampire movie previews that precede every film this summer.  Can someone tell me why every new movie involves pasty vampires?

I thought about laughing at one point during the actual movie.  Not laughing as a result of the movie, sadly, but I thought about laughing in general because the couple in the perfect seats chuckled once.  What makes a movie funny? Is it possible to laugh at a movie when the theater is empty?  How often do you laugh alone?  I left the theater wondering if the recession was to blame for the empty theater, and everything stayed unfunny.

My favorite part of the experience was the empty, patterned bathroom.  I didn’t adjust these doors.  It must have been the same girl that does the popcorn.