The Sudden and Surprising Death of At the Movies!
. . . Ben Lyons, on the other hand, is a handsome kid. He's lovable, like a retarded puppy dog. And its nice to see him upholding the family tradition, just like the son of a doctor or a lawyer might do. And he's nice. He always comes with this blinding white smile. Thing is, I've seen him at critic screenings before. He likes to stand up before the film starts and talk really loud. He's not the only one, a lot of press and on-line critics are guilty of this. In a movie theater, where he is shouting over the crowd, I can't turn him off. Never one to agree with the overly simplistic way he describes the films he likes, it sucks to see him on the TV, now occupying space on what was once one of my favorite TV shows. When I worked at E!, he'd run around the halls, claiming to be some kind of Movie Expert. But ask him a question, and he'd just give you one of those retarded puppy dog, blank eyed stares. He really didn't know that much about film. Still, I was sort of happy for him. Because, being nice does go a long way. A handshake here, a "hey, how's it going?" there. The kid did good. Great. So what if he's a lousy look at me critic? But then, Ben Lyons sat down next to me at the Towelhead screening. And I lost any respect I had for him as a televised film critic right then and there. Because he obviously hadn't studied his predecessor's guide to filmgoing etiquette.
Mr. Lyons remained on his cell phone for the entire duration of Towelhead. While he wasn't talking on the phone, he did spend most of the two hour running time click-typing out texts. His head was continuously pulled down, face away from the screen. His zombie-like eyes bathed in that annoying bright blue light. He then later went on to give the film a "Don't See It" review on his show . . .