Lileks on modern movie-going:

I haven’t stood in line for a ticket in a long time – I get them from the kiosk in the lobby well in advance, because I hate lines of any sort. On the other hand, it moves us towards the depopulation of the theater staff; I still remember ticket booths, not counters – some poor soul locked in a capsule under the marquee, doling out tickets from a great spool. Then there’s the fellow who rips the ticket in half – not exactly a demanding job, but it always seemed to have authority. Only I can rip the ticket. Should you rip the ticket, it is useless. By destroying it, I fulfill its value. Hail me, for I am the Head Usher. These will be anachronisms soon enough, and one more human interaction, heretofore ubiquitous, will replaced with a beep and a green light.

 

Wow: from techno-glee to rueful nostalgic regret in one paragraph. That’s a record.

As a former movie-theater usher, and one who isn’t ashamed to admit that I quite enjoyed the job, I have to give props to ol’ Jimmy. He perfectly captures the banal self-importance of those who control public access to the cinematic inner sanctum. He also paints, for me, a grim view of a very-near future in which movie-goers shuffle efficiently and mirthlessly past automated ticketing kiosks and snack-dispensing cubicles and barcode-scanning gateways. Hell, that future is already here in some places. Personal anecdote: a few months back, I happened to be in Los Angeles, where I went to see a movie at a place called The Grove It’s a beautiful theater in many respects, but one which is suspiciously lacking in the human touch. I bought my tickets from an ATM-style dispenser, and then I ordered my concessions with a touch-screen panel and paid by swiping my debit card. When my number was called, a concessionaire handed me a sack of corn and an empty cup, which I filled myself at a self-service soda fountain. It was all very quick and efficient, no doubt a boon for the place’s managers, who only have to schedule a minimal staff and who don’t have to deal with queues of impatient people. But it just felt… cold. A little too much like something out of THX-1138.

I happen to like the personal interaction with other organic beings when I’m out in the world. And I worry about the kids of the future; I wonder what they’ll do for their first jobs if all those minimum-wage customer service positions we old-timers used to fill get automated. (I also wonder where today’s kids are going to go drink beer and make out when the time comes for them, because all the fields and canyons I used for those purposes now have houses sitting on them. But kids are clever, and I suppose they’ll find their own ways.)

We’ve got some degree of automation at the theaters around here, but I myself rarely use those automated ticket kiosks. Nope, not me. I’d rather have a couple seconds of face-time with the pretty teenaged girl at the counter. Call me crazy…