Regal Cinemas has officially stopped pretending it’s in the business of showing movies and started acting like it’s running a meme theme park. On April 20th, they’re hosting “Chicken Jockey Day” to ride the viral chaos surrounding A Minecraft Movie, and the whole thing reeks of desperation dressed up as fan engagement. It’s a one-day marketing stunt designed to wring a few more dollars out of a fleeting cultural moment, and it’s happening at a time when movie theaters desperately need stability—not more performative nonsense.
This isn’t some organic fan movement anymore. It’s corporate-sanctioned bedlam. Regal is pushing themed popcorn buckets, combo meals stacked with chicken tenders, and 4DX screenings that cost over $30 a ticket in some places. They want audiences to come in costume, shout at the screen, record it all for TikTok, and call it an experience. Meanwhile, theater employees are bracing for impact, hoping the worst they’ll have to deal with is popcorn on the floor and not another live chicken incident.
Theaters used to be places of focus, escape, and collective imagination. But Regal has decided they’d rather be the backdrop for a chaotic internet bit than a sanctuary for storytelling. They’ve watched videos of fans turning screenings into scream fests and food fights and thought, “Let’s have more of that.” They’re not trying to preserve moviegoing culture—they’re trying to game the algorithm. And what’s worse, they’re doing it under the guise of enthusiasm, like letting kids scream and throw food is some kind of cinematic revolution.
Jared Hess, the film’s director, finds it hilarious. He’s cheered on the meme wave, shrugged off concerns about popcorn-throwing, and treated the whole thing like a harmless party. But for the people who actually have to work these screenings, it’s not a party. It’s a logistical nightmare. Multiple theaters have already banned unaccompanied minors, called the police to remove rowdy crowds, and dealt with actual vandalism. Someone brought a live animal to a theater and chucked it like a prop. This is not charming. This is reckless. And Regal is actively encouraging it.
Worse, it’s a distraction from what really matters. Theaters are struggling because ticket prices are too high, concessions cost as much as a meal at a decent restaurant, and people are sick of being nickel-and-dimed just to enjoy a night out. But instead of addressing those core issues—lowering prices, improving the customer experience, maybe even treating staff like human beings—Regal is betting the farm on a meme that’ll be forgotten by summer break. This isn’t forward-thinking. It’s flailing. And the worst part is, it’ll probably work for a weekend.
Minecraft was already going to make money. It’s a juggernaut IP. But instead of using that as a moment to reestablish the value of the theatrical experience, Regal turned it into a circus. They’re chasing virality when they should be rebuilding trust. Because believe it or not, there are still people who love going to the movies and want to keep doing it. But not if they have to navigate a minefield of screaming kids, TikTok clout-chasers, and whatever the hell Regal thinks “fan engagement” looks like next.
There was a time when going to the movies felt magical. A big screen, a dark room, an unspoken agreement to shut up and get lost in a story. That used to mean something. But now? It’s starting to feel like a liability. If theaters are just going to become the IRL version of a YouTube comment section, why bother leaving the house? Streaming might not have the same atmosphere, but at least no one’s throwing tenders during the climax.
Chicken Jockey Day might be the most honest thing Regal has done in years. It shows you exactly where their priorities are. Not on the films, not on the audience, not on the long-term health of theatrical distribution. Just the next viral moment. The next spike in ticket sales. The next dumb stunt to make shareholders briefly forget how fragile the entire business has become.
So yeah, it’s a cultural moment. But it’s not one worth celebrating. It’s a gimmick disguised as community, a mess Regal helped create, and a reminder that movie theaters are in the hands of executives who care more about clicks than cinema. If they really wanted to bring people back to the theaters, they’d make it affordable, comfortable, and safe—not memeable.
If you’re going to Chicken Jockey Day, wear old clothes. Sit near the exit. Don’t expect to actually hear the movie. And whatever you do, leave the livestock at home. Regal clearly isn’t going to.
Hollywood After Dark 