You know the drill. Buy a ticket for 7:00 PM, arrive at 7:00 PM, and then—wait. And wait. And wait some more, as trailers for movies you’ll never see barrel past like a runaway train. It’s a ritual as old as multiplexes themselves, but now, AMC Theatres has done the unthinkable: they’ve admitted it.
Buried in the ticket-purchasing flow on their website, a new disclaimer quietly states what cinephiles have long resented: “The movie starts 25 to 30 minutes after the listed showtime.” No more guesswork. No more frantic Googling of “how long are AMC previews 2024” in the parking lot. Just cold, hard confirmation that yes, you can show up fashionably late and miss nothing but ads you’ve already memorized from YouTube.
The Slow Burn of Theater Desperation
This isn’t generosity—it’s damage control. For years, theaters have been stretching the pre-show window into absurdity, cramming in trailers, soda commercials, and Nicole Kidman’s heartbreaking ode to the magic of cinema (which, ironically, feels anything but magical on the 400th viewing). Earlier this year, Connecticut State Senator Martin Looney—a man whose name belongs in a Coen brothers script—proposed a bill requiring theaters to disclose trailer lengths. AMC, perhaps sensing the winds shifting, decided to get ahead of the outrage.
But let’s be real: this won’t shorten the ads. Studios pay handsomely for those slots, and theaters, still clawing back from pandemic losses, won’t say no to easy money. (See: $30 Dune 2 popcorn buckets selling out like limited-edition sneakers.) What’s fascinating is the transparency itself—a rare crack in the facade of an industry that’s spent decades pretending this wasn’t a problem.
The Alamo Drafthouse Effect
Compare this to chains like Alamo Drafthouse, where pre-show content rarely exceeds 15 minutes, often curated with quirky deep cuts instead of the same Deadpool & Wolverine trailer played three times. It’s no accident that Alamo’s fanbase skews obsessive; they treat the audience like adults, not captive wallets. AMC’s move feels less like innovation and more like catching up to a standard set by smarter competitors.
The Unspoken Truth
Here’s the kicker: we’ve all been complicit. Theaters bank on our fear of missing the actual start time, knowing full well that showing up “late” is the rational choice. By finally admitting the truth, AMC isn’t just doing us a favor—they’re acknowledging a broken system. Baby steps? Sure. But in an era where studios treat runtime like a flex (*hi, Killers of the Flower Moon), a little honesty goes a long way.
So next time your ticket says 7:00 PM, pour one out for the suckers who arrive on time. Then stroll in at 7:25, smug and ad-free. The movie—the real one—is just about to start.
