Civility at theater antidote for audience members who distract

During my annual jaunt to the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City, during three out of four plays, I had the misfortune to sit next to people who either didn’t know or didn’t care how annoying they were.

There was the grown woman who, despite the announcement about no cells phones or texting, felt that couldn’t possibly apply to her. There was the toothpick chewer whose mastication resembled gum snapping. Then there was the elderly gentleman whose wife at least attempted to keep him in line. She had little success. But at least she tried.

The perfect seat mate was the well-behaved girl who neither kicked the seat in front of her or talked during the performance. She managed to do nothing to annoy. Probably still in high school, she had the best theater manners. I wish I knew her name so I could heap praises upon her and the parents who raised her to be considerate of others and attentive during “Pride and Prejudice.”

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all the people who don’t distract others around them during a theater performance.

However, for the others, I’ve learned not to seethe in silence, especially when tickets are in the $50 range. But I am polite and not nasty in my requests.

It’s almost sad that at the beginning of each performance there’s an announcement not to use cell phones or text during the show and to unwrap candy or cough drops before the show starts. Apparently crinkling is a major irritation at the festival.

What’s even sadder is that a woman about my age (in other words, plenty old enough to know better) ignored the message.

Just as actor Jack Noseworthy was belting out “Mustn’t Panic” at the end of the first act of “Great Expectations,” her phone vibrated, she just had to see who it was, creating a bright light of diversion from the stage. Isn’t that what voicemail is for?

Without being snarky or snotty, I asked her at intermission (all of five minutes later) not to do that again because it was distracting. Civility worked.

The toothpick chewer struck during “The Merchant of Venice.” Snap. Snap. Snap. It was so loud that my friend on the other side of me could hear it, so the people in front of him had to hear it. Again, during an early scene change I spoke. “I’m sorry, would you mind not doing that. It’s distracting, like having someone snap gum in my ear.”

I suspect this was a habit of his and he was oblivious to the effect on others. But he politely ceased. His wife obviously had grown used to it over the years. But it seemed like, in consideration of others, she could have reminded him before the performance.

My favorite annoyer was the elderly man. As he tottered toward me, I could see he would be trouble. Yes, he fulfilled my greatest expectations during the slapstick comedy “39 Steps.”

His wife removed his hat after the show started and he said loudly, “Who took my hat?”

He waited until the lights were down after the intermission before finding his seat, so people in his row and behind missed the start of the second act. He couldn’t hear well, so there was a lot of “what did he say?” after the audience would roar with laughter.

He was clearly a lost cause, but his wife was trying, so I didn’t.

Don’t suffer in silence, but don’t be nasty when you tell someone something they’re doing is distracting. My experience is that politeness works far better than dirty looks. Nobody has the right to ruin your good time. And honestly in some cases, they might not do it deliberately.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call 702- 383-0275. She also blogs at lvrj.com/blogs/morrison.