Paying for Art, But Instead Getting Ads

IT was the 11th straight commercial - the second with Beyoncé trilling and shilling for Tommy Hilfiger - that pushed the audience over the edge.

These people had gone to Loews Lincoln Square to see a film. But at 4:45 p.m., the announced starting time of "The Aviator," they were pounded instead by an advertisement blitz. They knew, too, that a barrage of previews was still to come. Some at this popular theater complex on the Upper West Side reached the breaking point.

"Oh, come on!" a man cried in the dark.

"Give me a break!" a woman called out.

"We paid for a movie!" another man shouted.

That they did, and dearly: $10.50 for an "adult" ticket. A "child" or a "senior" paid $7. At the movies, apparently, anyone over 62, or even a mere 55 in some places, is not deemed an adult.

This audience was forced to put up with 6 minutes of ear-bursting commercials, followed by 11 minutes of thunderous coming attractions (which is another way of saying commercials). If people arrived early, as most did to find decent seats, they became prisoners as well to 27 advertisements that flitted silently across the screen in a continuous loop.

In all, some sat for as long as 50 minutes before finally getting what they had paid good money to see. Not surprisingly, they were fed up. If anything, their reactions were mild. At a recent screening of "I {sheart} Huckabees" in the same theater, the commercials drove one man to shout a strong, all-too-familiar obscenity at the screen. He was roundly cheered.

It may be too early to predict a full-throated consumer uprising. But the stirrings of rebellion are evident despite the happy talk from some theater owners. One major chain, Regal Entertainment Group, has cited an Arbitron survey contending that most audiences, especially younger ones, like advertisements.

Jason Thompson is skeptical. He is a graphic designer in Portland, Ore., who created an anti-commercials group called Captive Motion Picture Audience of America.

Like many moviegoers, he feels the advertisements are unfair and alien to American tradition. Movies are not television. You pay to get in. There is no mute button or channel changer. You're stuck, forced to listen to high-decibel sales pitches.

Beyond that, "movies are kind of an art form," Mr. Thompson said by phone. "We want to enjoy that art without having all these advertising messages rammed down our throats."

IT would have been nice to ask Loews Cineplex Entertaiment what it thinks. The company owns many theaters, including Lincoln Square. But Loews "does not comment on such questions," a spokeswoman said. Sure, why waste time discussing a matter of concern for many customers?

Granted, in a world of wars and killer tsunamis, this issue ranks far down the list of things to keep you tossing and turning at night. But movies, particularly during Christmas week, are as much a part of America as supersized fast food. The advent of the commercials leaves some people feeling they are being played for suckers.

"I don't just hate them - I resent them," Steve Rappaport said on Sunday at Loews Lincoln Square. "I think the reaction is starting to become more noticeable. I think it's because the commercials are getting longer." Another moviegoer, Elizabeth Cooke Levy, objected not only to the advertisements but also to their running when the film is supposed to start. "I'd like them to show the movie at the time they say they will," she said.

Plainly, the commercials have not stopped ticket prices from steadily rising. The National Association of Theater Owners - there's an acronym for you: NATO - says the average movie ticket in the United States cost $6.03 last year. That was 29 percent higher than five years earlier. Never mind that the Consumer Price Index rose less than 13 percent during the same period.

Now and then, headline-seeking politicians propose boycotts of theaters to protest high prices. But that suggestion doesn't fly any more than do occasional calls to stay clear of the concession stands, where theaters really make their money.

One idea from Mr. Thompson's group is to shout at the screen during commercials. That tactic has clearly begun to enjoy some support in New York. And who knows? Theater owners might eventually get the message.

"The way the ads have been increasing," Mr. Thompson said, "it seems they're trying to see how far they can go before the public pushes back."