The mouth-breathing couple behind me seemed never to have set foot in a theater before. Aside from snoring while (apparently) awake, they felt compelled to give their internal commentary in real time:
"oh, it looks sad."
"why are their pants pulled up so high?"
"how do you think it'll end?"
"I've been thinking about it, and I bet it'll be sad."
After the lights turned back on, their two teenage (maybe college age) boys ambled over to give their two cents:
"I wish I had gone to see Anchorman instead."
"It was weird."
"That was too deep for me."
"I was like, I didn't know whether to feel bad for the guy or not. Because it was weird."
During the movie, I stopped myself from turning around to snap at them because I felt such pity – for their restricted breathing and restricted thinking. I only hope something sunk in for them.
Later, the image of a perc test came to mind (I've been doing too much land research). It's a measure of how quickly water absorbs into the soil, and it's necessary to determine what kind of septic system will work on that particular land. If the water absorbs too slowly, the septic system will have to be built up from huge amounts of imported sand, a very costly operation. If the test is bad enough, it may not be worthwhile or possible to build at all.
I wonder if there's a percolation test for people; I suspect there is, but it's not so quantifiable, unfortunately. That family last night clearly wasn't worth building upon, but maybe, just maybe, some of the water seeped down, to touch them later in life. At least the kids were young enough that there's still time for them to outgrow Anchorman.
What does it take?