Going to the movies? Then leave the little ones at home

Going to the movies? Then leave the little ones at home

Krabbe K. Piting, Contributor, Jakarta

For my opening column, I will not rant on the obvious list of complaints plaguing Jakartans across the city: Traffic jams, the yearly flood, busway, the usual lot.

Not that I deem them unimportant, mind you. But you are bound to read about them every day anyway, from far more convincing sources. Instead, I want to take a look at the burning issue of underage kids in movie theaters. Yes, I am talking about those tantrum-throwing, seat-kicking little people. And no, I am not one of those bitter, unmarried women who mask their insecurities with hostility toward the little ones.

Please note that I am not against all children in movie theaters. There are movies for general consumption. After all, I do not go see the latest Pixar offering at Planet Hollywood for a quiet night out. I do not expect, however, to have children in close proximity when I watch a movie with a title such as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

I find it disturbing to have children, barely out of preschool, watching a movie with violent and/or adult contents in a Dolby Digital environment, because: a) I expect to get my money's worth. I want to savor every gory detail in all its cinematic splendor. The only screams I want to hear are from the actress being devoured by a ruthless serial killer or the occasional excitable ADULT audience. If you think your child's nagging is cute and healthy, it's not.

An acquaintance once said, "Children are like farts. You can only stand your own". In my humble opinion, he should be anointed a saint on the spot purely on the merit of those sage words alone. b) Parents, if you do not think that fellow cinemagoers welfare is something to take into account, please think of your children's.

I finally stopped looking for sharks in swimming pools and beaches in my early 20s. Thank you, Steven Spielberg. And I know I was not alone, in case you're wondering if I have the IQ of a pigeon.

This thought crossed my mind when the heads of Gondor soldiers rolled out of their steel helmets and Lord Denethor set himself on fire in The Return of the King, or when Diane Lane frolicked onscreen with Olivier Martinez in Unfaithful, all in full view of toddlers who consistently screamed every few minutes, urging their parents to please take them home. Film ratings are there for a reason, you know.

And this is Indonesia, after all. You have the luxury of cheap labor at the tip of your dainty and pampered fingers. Nannies and maids are easy to come by. If you don't trust them enough to leave them with Junior for a mere 2 hours (or 3.5 hours if you're going to see any of the Lord of the Rings trilogy), you still have your parents or the in-laws.

If you cannot find anybody to baby sit them, by all means, look for another date. Please. It's that simple. I just want to watch my movie in peace and not have the cinema as the breeding place for future sociopaths. Is that too much to ask? I think not.