AMC Lennox is a theater that I know fairly well, having seen quite a few movies there since it opened ten years ago. It was at this theater that I observed the horror-stricken faces of people queued up to enter the theater as I left it with a crowd of teary-eyed patrons; I didn't stick around long enough to learn whether the horror was for fear of what they had gotten themselves into or because I announced to the whole lot that the Titanic sunk. It was at this theater that I saw one of the earliest showings of Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, only to discover that an inordinate number of Internet security people could be found there (it would have been a good time to launch a big attack against a major backbone). It was also in this theater that I saw another friend of mine whom I greet in Russian and call by a Latin name; we were both there to see a movie that was a perfectly sensible movie to see but that neither of us would likely admit to outside of our very small group of friends.

Like other AMC theaters, Lennox comes with elements that help to reinforce at all times that you are at the movies. The smell of popcorn (yours for only $79.31), boxed candy (Junior Mints, $52.67), and a wide assortment of delicious drinks (small Coca-Cola™, $18; medium, $23; keg-o-Coke, $23.04). So it's not quite that expensive, but the point remains: moviegoers feel stupid for getting anything but the patented BladderBuster™ and then halfway through the movie feel stupid for actually drinking it. Not to be forgotten is the teenage staff: neatly-dressed staff in their matching black uniforms that never seem to fit on the young men quite properly and the fourteen bottles of hairspray to hold each young lady's hair in place. (Cue: giggle.) Should you wish to reduce your interaction with other people, you can use one of several kiosks that will dispense tickets in exchange for applying charges to your credit or debit card instead of standing in line.

Once entering the theater itself, one has a choice of comfortable seats with armrests that will actually raise out of the way for anyone who isn't really there to watch the movie. Then it begins.

Arriving at 1:34 P.M. for a 1:40 P.M. movie, we found the theater already bathed in the light of full-motion video and synchronized stereophonic sound. Only after taking our seats did we see that the previews had not begun. What was on-screen was a commercial for a television show to appear on the cable channel TNT, something to do with Stephen King's nightmares. Then some fragrant body spray for men, guys clicking devices to measure the number of looks that they get from women. Hyundai cars. “Fallen Angel,” a television series to show on ABC Family, presumably another cable channel. Habernero Doritos. “Football is everything,” quoth Nike. Dasani wind-up with a woman in a bad French accent dressed like a French poodle. Sprite “Sublymonal advertising,”: “Obey.” (Puh-leeze.) Then a message from AMC, “Get here early to see what's new in entertainment!” Yes indeed, what's new in entertainment? So new that it's not actually available, but only coming soon? Video of Phish in concert. From 2004. They want me to get here early to see a two-year-old concert because it's new in entertainment. Maybe they should try going back to school to learn what's old in arithmetic: subtraction. At 1:43, the previews begin for things that look stupid, things that won't be out for seven more months, and sequels whose previews are indistinguishable from the original films' previews. Ten minutes of that and we're on to the movie, not that I remembered which movie I was there to see by then.

The sound and video quality were quite good, the theater comfortable, and the crowd was obliging, not requiring us to listen to their chatter, incessant ringing of electronic communications devices, and so on. We enjoyed the movie and the theater did a good job of supporting the experience—after having run the gauntlet of crass commercial messages.