This has very little to do with Horror, but tyranist has been kind enough to include it here anyway. I'm not really sure why I wrote it, but it was something I wanted to say, and that seems as good a reason as any.
I love going to the movies. It's probably my favourite pastime. And an obnoxious habit I have (at least it's obnoxious to some people around me) is staying in the theatre until the movie is finished. Ever since 1984, I have stuck in my seat to the bitter end. While there have been a couple of times when I didn't, I've made it a deeply-entrenched habit to sit through the end credits of every movie I see.
It's just something I do. As a kid, it was more so I could enjoy the music or extend my theatre experience rather than an act of personal pride and/or stubbornness, but now, it's sort of become a political thing.
I sat through the end titles of (the very mediocre) Ring Two last night, greatly vexing the inconvenienced minorities who had to squeeze past me on their way to the conjested parking lot. I'm sure I apologised, but I probably shouldn't have.
I don't really understand why this tradition is so painful for those around me. Taking my siblings to see Forrest Gump or Lion King or Star Wars or Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, they paced impatiently at the back of the theatre like a bunch of Ritalin-starved chocolate-eaters on Christmas Eve, while I waited for Alan Silvestri, Elton John, John Williams, and Michael Kamen to finish their fine work.
The last date I went on (we saw Fever Pitch), the girl I was with started twitching like a heroin addict channelling David Banner or something when she realized I wanted to stay in my seat until the movie was done. "Alright, alright," I said, and we headed to the exit, only to have to stand in line for another minute or two as the large crowd, a veritable herd, pushed their way through the aisles to get out the tiny exits. We spent another fifteen minutes inching along the parking structure in my car, Kristina shouting obscenities at the myriad drivers indecent enough to be stuck ahead of us. I think, to this day, that a lot of the hostility she felt was because of my desire to stick around and turn in the car keys that I found on the row behind ours when the house lights came up.
In college, I once found myself one of two people left in the theatre at the end (not atypical, really). Getting up to leave, I found that my Intro To Film teacher was the other guy who had stuck around. Walking through the lobby and empty lot together, we had a nice conversation about the movie and about end titles. He would often say in class that you pay for the end credits when you buy your ticket, so you are basically throwing seventeen cents away if you leave before then (probably thirty cents now, with inflation). I always thought that was cute and repeated it to my friends and roommates at the time. And now I'm repeating it to you, hmmm.
Another time, I stayed until the end, and walked up the aisle as the lights came on, only to find a five dollar bill abandoned four or five rows behind mine. That guy must have left WAY before the credits.
But it's not just the last seventeen cents that keeps me sitting there. I think it started because I just loved the music in Ghostbusters and Gremlins, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, and Jedi, but also, there was something that struck me about ALL THOSE NAMES moving up the screen. Every one of those people had something to do with what I just saw. Every name has a story, has a family, has a fan just waiting to see that name go by (it's especially applicable in Los Angeles, where it's not uncommon to hear applause for some audience member's brother-in-law, daughter, father, or gay twin).
Another example comes to mind. Recently, I was talking about Constantine with a friend of mine at work. I told him one of my favourite moments was the post-credits coda, where the kid sidekick becomes an angel. He sighed and told me that his girlfriend dragged him out before that happened. While not a breakupable offense, it's really too bad and was disappointing for him to admit.
I love to sit through the end credits. One of my roommates, John, once paid me a huge compliment by saying that he always tries to stay to the end of movies now, and when he took his son to Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, he was rewarded by the cute little post-credits gag that made his son laugh.
There's plenty of reasons to sit there after "The End" has flashed on the screen. The films of Zucker, Abrahms and Zucker used to treat title watchers by putting in phony credits such as Worst Boy and Mr. Nielsen's Stunt Buttock among the real names. Kevin Smith always has an amusing list of thank you's at the end of his movies. Did you catch Darth Vader breathing or the aliens slithering or the children laughing or the gremlins cackling at the finales of Phantom Menace, Aliens, Poltergeist, or Gremlins? They used to give you a sneak peak at what was in the future at the end of James Bond movies, and remember Scream's "absolutely no thanks whatsoever to" end credit? Or how about just using that opportunity to talk about the film, why it was good or bad, why it scared you or made you laugh (or fall asleep), or just take a breath before you re-enter the real world?
I guess I'm pontificating here. Sorry. I'm not trying, nor would be able to, convince you to stay during the credits. You can do what you want. You can leave at the one hour mark. You can throw Sugar Babies at the two people who do stay. Go right ahead. But if you do stay, it gives you a chance to sit and think about the film, listen to the music, check the credits for the guy who played Naked Senior Citizen 2, or who sings that song you used to like when you were young (it was Freedy Johnston, by the way), avoid the masses in the lobby and the circus in the parking lot, or heck, just relax in your chair for one more minute before continuing the Silly Symphonies-esque pace of your life. And yeah, every once in a while, you'll get a fun bonus, like the one at the end of Airplane!, Ferris Bueller, Pirates of the Caribbean, Daredevil, Boogeyman, Austin Powers 2, or even Masters of the Universe. Not bad for seventeen cents.
Rish Sedgwick Outfield
April 2005