For some, movies are occasionally too violent, vulgar or plain boring to sit through.
Theres the sense that youre all sharing a new experience.
The enjoyment of laughing in unison at a golden comic moment.
Even today, I cant help but associate the Normandy landings with the smell of bananas and beer.
Ive never left a film early before, partly because Im so tight.
Even if a films terrible, Ill be damned if I dont get my moneys worth.
Beware of spoilers if you havent seen one or two of the films below, obviously.
Other people sitting in the cinema were less enamoured.
It appeared to be downhill all the way from there.
They groaned during the lengthy bare-knuckle boxing sequences.
Oddly, the moment that pushed them over the edge was one I found absolutely hilarious.
There was a gasp behind me, then the sound of seats thumping into their upright position.
Its gory, its violent, its unpredictable, but its also quite funny.
The walk-out:The answer to the above question: patrons of a multiplex in Northamptonshire.
The word boring echoed out at least once during the first half an hour.
When the startlingly gory fish-gun moment mentioned above played out, a line had clearly been crossed.
Ridiculous a shadowy figure said, as he huffily put on his jacket and headed for the nearest door.
Im guessing he wasnt familiar with Cronenbergs earlier stuff.
This exceedingly odd, sporadically disturbing film is all about narcotics, tempestuous relationships and the afterlife.
Directed by Gaspar Noe, its essentially an X-rated Tron.
Although undeniably beautiful, they also giveEnter The Voida strangely languid pace.
As good as his word, he collected together the tattered remains of his sanity and left.
Ben Wheatleys British horror thriller is likeThe Wicker Manfor the 21st century.
The walk-out:Kill Listwas the kind of film where its lack of publicity worked in its favour.
Had they stayed, its possible that one scene would have sent them packing in any case.
A handful of people audibly gasped.
One woman exclaimed, Oh my God.
At any rate, I suspect Mr Wheatley would have taken those horrified audience reactions as a compliment.
A discussion about a human toilet resulted in a ripple of very middle-class laughter.
Gradually, though, it became clear that Stricklands film was dividing the room.
Approximately 40 minutes in, the walk-outs began.
At least eight people left before I gave up trying to keep tally.
He regarded it for a moment, shook his head, coughed, and quietly departed.
