"It's A Sled!"

We've all experienced them: the couple whispering hoarsely during "The Horse Whisperer," or the guy laughing a little too loud and long during a quiet moment of the film that isn't actually a comedy.

You may be surprised to learn the truth behind this cinema gum-flapping. I recently had the pleasure of sitting down with Oscar Greenfield, current director of the avant-garde theater company "It's A Sled!"

Barry Smith: Oscar, I went to see "The Italian Job" the other night, and about 20 minutes into it a woman comes in and sits with the man behind me. He started to fill her in on what she'd missed, which was quite a bit by that point. He was whispering, but it was still totally obnoxious.

Oscar Greenfield: You got up and moved, didn't you?

BS: Well... yeah. How'd you know that?

OG: You don't strike me as a shusher or a glarer, so I figured you for either a mover or a pouter.

BS: What makes you think I'm a pouter? What's a "pouter?"

OG: Well, rather than deal directly with the annoying movie talker, the pouter will just fidget and harrumph and generally make more commotion than we do during one of our performances. They're almost as satisfying an audience as the volcanoes.

BS: Volcanoes?

OG: You know, those people who let it build up until they finally spin around and erupt with a "Will you please?" or a "Do you mind?" and it spews out of their mouths like Krakatoa. Love that.

BS: So, let me just back up a minute and talk about what you do, exactly. You're telling me that you go into movie theaters and intentionally act annoying as a theatrical performance?

OG: Well, it's not just me - "It's A Sled!" now has over 20,000 members nationwide. And yes, our performance involves acting, as you say, "annoying." Although we prefer "provocative."

BS: Why?

OG: It's just a far more artsy word.

BS: No, I mean why do you act ... that way?

OG: We like to think that by adding the sharp contrast to the primary performance, we actually enhance it.

BS: So by acting like an asshole during a movie you think you're making the movie better? And why did you think I was a pouter?

OG: Our entire world is made up of contrast - it's what keeps our planets in orbit. Don't you listen a little more intensely to the movie dialogue if the couple behind you is chatting?

BS: Well, yeah, you have to, but...

OG: Exactly. The contrast forces you to be even more engaged in life than you ordinarily would be. Isn't that the ultimate purpose of art? To wake you up a little?

BS: But aren't there enough people talking at movies already? Why do you feel the need to add to it?

OG: You know when you hear someone talking during a movie and you think, "Who would do such a thing?" Well ... nobody would. Nobody is really that inconsiderate in real life. That's why we have such a large canvas on which to create.

BS: Wait, you're telling me that every loud jerk at a movie is actually one of your professional actors portraying a loud jerk?

OG: Yep.

BS: But...

OG: Yep, it's been that way ever since Jerry Lipscomb saw the premier of Citizen Kane in 1941. Lipscomb was a young theater student who liked "Kane" so much that he returned the following night and, in his excitement, muttered "It's a sled" to his date within the first 10 minutes of the film. The reaction that he got from those around him was so satisfying that it prompted him to form his own theater company, and we've been operating more or less in secrecy ever since.

BS: Can your work also be found during intimate music concerts?

OG: No, that's the domain of one of our offshoot troupes, "Freebird!"

BS: Interesting. What exactly was it about me that made you think I was a pouter?

OG: You should probably let that go.

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