Film TikToker Cerys Hawkes has documented her worst cinema experience: during a screening of supernatural horror film Smile 2 in 2024, two men spent the runtime filming themselves, the screen and other audience members "with the flash on, in an attempt to (what looked like) record 'reaction' content for social media."

They were shouting throughout the film, growing louder during scary scenes. When Hawkes fetched cinema staff, the disruptors "momentarily stopped, to avoid being kicked out," then resumed once staff left. She thinks being disruptive "goes hand-in-hand" with being messy, recalling last year's "infamous Minecraft Movie screenings, which saw auditoriums full of people throwing popcorn, drinks, and some even going as far as bringing in a live chicken."

Fellow TikToker Finian Hackett identifies phones as "the worst offender." He hasn't attended "a single film in recent years where someone hasn't been scrolling on their phone, and that includes premiere screenings." The bafflement in his voice reflects a broader confusion about what went wrong.

Cinema chains are responding with increasingly explicit warnings. Cineworld reserves the right to eject disruptive customers "immediately" without refunds. Vue asks customers to "have consideration to others," while Odeon reminds patrons not to "spoil the enjoyment of others." The fact these reminders feel necessary suggests something measurable has shifted.

Dr. Kirsty Sedgman, who studies audience behavior at the University of Bristol, points to the pandemic as a turning point. "It's really tempting to say, 'Oh, lockdown meant that we forgot how to behave,'" she explains. "But it's not that simple."

The issue extends beyond mere forgetfulness. Sedgman describes "a weakening of what we call the 'social contract'—the rules that bind us together"—caused partly by widespread rule-breaking during lockdown. More significantly, she identifies "the collapse of private norms in public spaces," with attention "absolutely being distorted and divided" by home viewing habits.

People became accustomed to pausing films for bathroom breaks, scrolling phones during slow scenes, and conducting full conversations during movies. These behaviors, normal in living rooms, have migrated to theaters where they fracture the collective experience cinema was designed to create.

The timing couldn't be worse for an industry still recovering from pandemic losses. At CinemaCon 2026, industry leaders acknowledged the challenges facing theatrical exhibition, with US annual box office still trailing pre-pandemic levels. When shared experiences become fractured experiences, the economic math stops working.

James Connor from the UK Cinema Association maintains that disruptive behavior doesn't "reflect typical behavior" and that "most people understand and follow simple cinema etiquette." His optimism may be genuine, but it sidesteps the deeper question: what happens when "most people" isn't enough to preserve public space norms?

The phenomenon extends beyond cinema. Chicago's mayor issued an executive order addressing smoking on public transit. New York's Metropolitan Transportation Authority concluded that fare beating is simply not considered "as 'bad' as it once was." BART discontinued fare checks after finding them ineffective and discriminatory. Across public spaces, enforcement has softened while behavior has coarsened.

Yet not everyone sees audience participation as purely destructive. Liverpool comedian Sam Avery described seeing the Minecraft Movie with his children as "honestly the most joyous cinemagoing experience I've ever had." Some Wicked screenings featured spontaneous singing that many found delightful rather than disruptive.

This suggests the challenge isn't eliminating all audience interaction, but negotiating which behaviors enhance communal experience versus which fragment it. Shared joy differs qualitatively from individual consumption happening to occur in a shared space.

The solution may require rethinking cinema's social contract rather than simply enforcing old rules. When Hawkes recommends earlier showtimes and arthouse venues for undisturbed viewing, she's acknowledging that different audiences want different experiences. The question becomes whether mainstream cinema can accommodate both communal participation and immersive focus, or whether these represent two separate species of entertainment.