Banal Series # 13 Movie Theater Food

The moviegoer, having recently purchased tickets for a film of what might qualify as banal, or at least semi banal, is now faced with the very real and very tangible crisis of movie theater food. The dizzying carpet in tessellated patterns evocative of a casino, or a black light poster purchased from a novelty store, is mashed in mosaics and decoupage of popcorn and gummy treats. The proximity surrounding the snack and food area is fouled with a sickly sweet miasma: butter, and sugar, and nitrates, and sloth. An arcade in an enclave to the left of the snack area burbles and thuds as games utter promises to possible users. These phenomena impact the moviegoer at subconscious and unconscious levels. He is aware, yet unaware that he is aware. The entirety of this state of affairs registers, somewhere deep within.

He’ll just get in line here, behind two families, and a teenage couple embarking upon a fairly recent relationship. The glass case aglow in fluorescent awe displays candies. Candies in rectangular boxes which; to the naked and untrained eye give the appearance of actually more candy. The moviegoer is untrained, and he seems to be eyeing that box of Swedish Fish. Two trapezoidal aquariums behind the counter, to the right of the register churn and bubble ominous red and orange liquids. A great vat of popcorn, spewing in a yellow mountain inside a glass box showcases the food area. This is the benchmark of moviegoer food. The familiar sound of dulled popping emanates from a metallic disc at the top of the case, as kernels burst into white puffs and fall onto the pile. A yellow light warms the display.

Signage on the back wall tells of prices. Prices that should, in a less monopolistic setting, be competed and haggled out of existence. But not here. The moviegoer will have a mammoth tub of popcorn, with extra butter, please. Of course, he will also need an extra large beverage to wash it down. And the Swedish Fish. How about some Ju Ju Bees? He hasn’t seen those in a while. He places his order. He watches as a teenage worker fills his glorious tub with scoops of yellowed puffs. Another sputters some of the red fluid into a large plastic cup. One box of Swedish Fish and Ju Ju Bees each are placed on the glass counter with a faint rattle. The total: $26.47, with tax. The moviegoer does not question this, and numbly hands the cashier his debit card.