He narrates, muses (loudly) about which actor is which and what other numerous parts he’s played. He criticises movie dialogue and generally talks all the way through the whole damn thing.
I never watch television with him but our son and daughter-in-law were visiting over Christmas so I broke the habit of several decades. And lasted about ten minutes. If he would shut up for five seconds, he might know why so-and-so did that. Or he could be quiet and wait to find out like the rest of us.
When my aunt S was visiting, I put on a movie for her to watch while I was otherwise occupied. She kept getting up to go to the kitchen or wherever without pausing the film.
Then she came to me and said, “I don’t understand what’s going on in this movie.”
I think most of these people see viewing television as a social event, rather than the viewing of a work of art; they honestly do not think anything you see on television is more enjoyable than the conversation it can inspire.
It drives me nuts, but how often are they really wrong?
No, but I often hear the news as a voice-over in a movie, similar to “To Live and Die in L.A.” It’s … disturbing.
My mom used to get on the phone, and then figure, “Well, since I can’t really do anything else while I’m on the phone, I’ll go sit next to my son and keep him company!”
The fact that I might be, say, watching a movie, and not particularly interested in listening to one half of a phone conversation, never seemed to occur to her. Even after it was pointed out multiple times.
There’s a certain level of conversation which I can enjoy so long as the context is right; for example, saying “that one dunit” when a well-known face appears as one of that episode’s witnesses in a police show is a running joke in my family, but not something to be done in public. MST3K-style analysis, again done as a group activity (watching classic movies with Dad could sometimes turn into contests of “name movies which have copied this particular bit”). But… describing the dresses the actresses are wearing? Really? If I wanted to see what the dress looks like I’d look at it instead of having my nose in my book. It’s not “oh, what a pretty/ugly/weird dress” (which might prompt a momentary look), it’s a description worthy of Vogue circa 1892.