Alamo Drafthouse is moving to smartphone concession ordering inside the cinema, during the film. This is not acceptable. We petition Alamo Drafthouse to reinstate the no-phone use policy and save the sanctity of the screening.

As a film critic and an (indirect) descendant of Davy Crockett himself, I value two things: tall tales of against-the-grain righteousness, and the sanctity of sanctuary amidst encroaching madness. My ancestor battled upon the Texas frontier so that today I may fight for the integrity of the cinematic viewing experience.

For years, Alamo Drafthouse has been my personal Alamo—a last stand against an encircling empire of glowing screens, vibratory notifications, and the general breakdown of civilization as we know it. To cinephiles, Alamo didn't just screen movies; it was a fortress. Alamo Drafthouse made "No Talking, No Texting" the Law of The Land. Nay, a Constitutional Amendment. Nay! A Holy Commandment.

That is why the shift to smartphone ordering feels less like progress and more like a betrayal of Alamo's soul. By requiring patrons to use phones to order, you aren't changing the service model; you have invited the enemy into our religious sanctuary. This is why I, Brint Davy Crockett, must evoke my dubiously-researched ancestry to draw a line in the sand.

We, The Alamo's scrappy movie-going militia — dutifully filling cinema seats despite at-home viewing options — urgently and obstinately object! 

The Articles of Grievance

The Glare of Betrayal: You cannot demand "no texting" while forcing us to use a phone to order. Every time we or a seat-neighbor must consort with a phone, the cinematic immersion dies in an illuminated second-screen.

The "Notification" Rabbit Hole: One minute I’m ordering a Dr. Pepper, and in the next, I’ve accidentally seen a terrifying NextDoor notification about a porch poacher. The theater is supposed to be an escape, not an extension of my neighborhood watch.

The Loss of the Server: There was a frontier magic to the old system. You scribbled a note on a slip of paper, and raised it upon your table-fort parapet like a signal flag. An Alamo cinema scout would take notice, whisking it away into the night to stealthily return with requested supplies. It was effective, tactile, and most importantly? Dark.

Our Demand

We don't want an app, a QR code, or an auditorium filled with glowing screens. We want the scratch of a tiny pen on a recycled slip of paper.  We petition Alamo Drafthouse to reinstate the analog ordering system. Keep our smartphones off and in our pockets where they belong.

Honor your original mission to provide a distraction-free environment. Let us watch movies the way Davy Crockett would have—without thinking about his smart phone. Otherwise, we can go to the movies at home.

"Be sure you're right, then go ahead." — Davy Crockett