A few weeks ago I caught the trailer for the film Contagion, a thriller involving an indiscriminate virus and it’s quick decimation of human life. I was intrigued for a number of reasons, one of which was that it appeared as though Gwyneth Paltrow could and would suffer an immediate and traumatic death. Everything will come full circle, I thought. What started over 15 years ago with her head in a box will now end with her foaming at the mouth.

A week had passed and I was ready for Contagion. As I arrived to the theater I noticed a number of white hairs and poor posture. The first sign of Olds. Maybe they’re here to watch The Help, i thought, or maybe they need help? Or perhaps I came at the wrong time. It was, after all a Friday afternoon with the sun shining, not too hot and not too cold. Cardigan weather. Peak hours for the shaky and arthritic.

As I found a seat I noticed the age of many of those around me were 60, 70, and possibly centuries old. They came in droves bringing with them all their ailments and general distaste for day to day life. Some had walkers, while others needed a flashlight and the help of a nice young man. Viewing a film in a theater packed with Olds is akin to a geriatric ward. I instantly detected old man smell and a wide array of aches and pains emanating from those around me. They set off all kinds of noises: grunts, coughs, old fashion racism. Maybe a fart or two. It was infectious, like a yawn, and it occurred to me immediately that this was the wrong film to watch with this kind of audience.

There are flu like symptoms galore in Contagion and though it’s all well done, I had the unnerving sensation that the content of the film was seeping into the reality of my viewing pleasure. I was hearing a symphony of coughs, a combination of wet and dry. High and low. It was everywhere like surround sound. I thought to myself that director Steven Soderbergh had outdid himself with the sound editing, but then I was reminded that rows 8-12 were apparently competing for the prize of he who coughs most is king. The winner was carried out in a stretcher, giving the thumbs up sign to suggest all is well, see you next week for Moneyball.