So, I finally get off my butt and go to see Apocalypse Now Redux, and I end up nearly killing a guy. It was Tuesday, at The Eglinton in Toronto. During the opening montage, the moron next to me gets out his phone, starts dialing and then starts talking! He didn't answer the phone, which would have been bad enough; he actually made a call during the opening of the film. Guess how long he stayed on the phone? All the way through the opening, through Sheen's narration, all the way up to breaking the mirror! By that time I was throwing handfuls of greasy popcorn at him to try to get him to shut up, but all he would do is look at me like I was out of my mind. After he hung up his phone he complained loudly to the woman he was with about how he had popcorn all over him. I seriously considered leaving and getting someone to kick him out of the theatre while he was on the phone, but that would only have compounded the problem for the rest of the audience: I was in the middle of a row, and The Eglinton's seating is not on a particularly steep angle, so I'd be standing up in front of everyone. I also considered leaving and asking for my money back, which I should have done, since I couldn't get into the film after that...it would have been okay, but phones belonging to other selfish morons rang a good dozen times over the course of the film, each ring bringing back that feeling of hatred and pulling me out of Apocalypse Now. The guy also got up and walked through the row three times during the film (to do what, I don't know, maybe make more calls without getting popcorn down his shirt), and he started to leave a fourth time just as that Doors song started playing again during the film's climax, but the woman he was with told him to wait because it was almost over. I felt really bad for her that she had to come to the movies with such an asshole. I had to force myself to leave after the film in the opposite direction out of the row so that I wouldn't know where the guy was once we got outside -- I was afraid that I'd jump him and demand that he give me back the six dollars I had just wasted on being angry at him for three and a half hours, plus another four bucks for the popcorn I threw at him. What should or could I have done? Experiences like this are souring me on the whole movie theatre thing, and the good little theatres that were for the most part free of morons have been closing at an alarming rate here in Toronto.