This weekend I took a break from painting Warhammer and went down to the BFI to watch Christopher Nolan’s latest masterpiece, The Odyssey.
And I must admit, as I walked through the slightly urine-scented tunnels that connect the South Bank to the best IMAX screen in Europe, I felt a slight sense of unease.
It wasn’t the thought of seeing Matt Damon battling a weeping one-eyed monster or the smell of wee in the walkway that made me feel uncomfortable, though (although they really do need some Febreze down there); it was the idea of a large crowd watching a film together.
You see, I love the movies, I’ve made a career out of having inane opinions about films, but the cinema-going experience isn’t always what I want it to be.
Indeed, as I sat down in the theatre, a shiver of anxiety went down my spine when I saw the man who I’d be sat next to for our nearly three-hour trip around the Mediterranean.
Clutched in his greasy hands was a box of the most nefarious and pungent substance known to man: popcorn.
Now there’s nothing wrong with popcorn in theory – if you like the taste of sweet and salty polystyrene, then you do you – but it’s not the popcorn I have a problem with: it’s eating in the cinema in general.
I’m a firm believer that if you want to eat, then go to a restaurant, pub, or the 10-yards of pavement outside your local Greggs, not the pictures.
I don’t care that they sell it in the cinema; I don’t want to hear about the profits from concession sales, and don’t get me started on the places that will bring you a portion of loaded fries or a pizza to your seat.
No. Food has no place being within 100 ft of a silver screen.
And when I say food, I mean all of it – including popcorn, crisps, nachos, hot dogs, chicken tenders, ice cream and what other fried and sugary delights lurk behind the refreshments counter.
If it’s edible, then it makes noise, it smells, and it ultimately distracts from the thing you’re there to do: watch a movie.
Friends and coworkers have argued with me in the past about this, claiming that they can be trusted with food. They can’t. They merely believe they eat quietly.
And look, I will concede that some people are very respectful with their cinema snacks.
Sadly, to paraphrase Ben Affleck in that dreadful film where Batman and Superman realise their mums have the same name, if there’s just a 1% chance of my film-going experience being ruined, then I don’t want to risk it.
And I believe the vast majority of people are brutish barbarians who love to chomp, rustle and slurp their way through the latest blockbuster or indie darling, and I can’t stand it.
Seriously, if I had a pound for every time I’d been sitting watching a film only to hear some gimboid trying and failing spectacularly to put crisps in their mouth, then I’d have £14.
And look, I know £14 isn’t a lot (could barely buy you a cinema ticket these days), but it’s 14 times more than I want to hear someone chomping on a bag of steak McCoys.
It’s not just the general public who let themselves down when visiting the cinema either; my fellow members of the glitterati in the press are just as poorly behaved.
Just the other day I was at a press screening and complained about the assorted hacks eating in the cinema.
My colleague basically told me to get a grip and enjoy the film.
Lo and behold, however, when the film reached its climax, all we could hear was some idiot trying to wrestle a bag of popcorn into submission.
Did this person have no shame? Were they not embarrassed to be making noise in the cinema? Were they not worried about ruining the film for others?
I know I would be.
And ultimately this is my grievance with food at the cinema: it goes against cinema etiquette. We’re all here to watch the film, not listen to some mouth breather guzzle down chicken tenders coated in honey mustard.
After all, a trip to the pictures is expensive, and I think it’s the height of rudeness to spoil someone else’s experience by crunching my way through nachos or munching on Minstrels in the third act of some thrilling adventure.
To me, making noise is as bad as getting your phone out to scroll through Instagram or text a friend. It’s an irritant and distraction that disturbs the film.
Which brings me back to the BFI IMAX and the man sitting next to me with the popcorn. It turns out he was an absolute gent who finished his starchy treat before the first trailer rolled.
So, I salute you random popcorn snaffler because Odysseus wasn’t the only hero I saw at the IMAX that day.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk.
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