1. The fact that this was *not* the poster.
2. The fact that for 2 hours or more, no sign of Hugh Jackman's penis.
None!
3. The "singing"
4. The fact that I hadn't really wanted to see it in the first place, just the costumes, and Hugh Jackman's penis...in a costume.
5. The 60 something couple behind me who kept talking: ("Oh my god...listen honey, that's that song by Susan Boyle!")
6. Betsy, the 90 year old immaculately dressed hunchback sitting next to me,
(with what I hope is Tourette's), who screamed bloody murder at the top of her lungs during the trailers.
Three times: Loud.
7. The indignant "theatre" gays who lisped out an angry "Will you PLEASE be quiet!" at Betsy.
Thee times: Loud.
8. The fact that I had to pee.
9. Betsy's 70 something friends who yelled. "Shut up Betsy, you're acting like an asshole!" To which Betsy responded "I don't give a shit!" and then veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery sloooooooowly hobbled her way out of the theater in a huff.
10. The acrid smell of burning plastic. "You smell that? What's on fire?"
