It’s not just the clock. It’s the repetition. Hoyts often plays the same ad twice in a row—especially for streaming services or local businesses. The second time, you start noticing the actor’s weird eyebrow twitch.
And the volume? Aggressively loud. A whisper-quiet drama trailer is followed by a blaring Subway sandwich ad that makes you jump. It’s a psychological trick: loud ads feel longer and more memorable.
If you add the trailers (which are also ads, let’s be honest), you’re committing to 22 to 27 minutes of marketing before any story telling begins. That’s the length of a Netflix sitcom episode.
But there’s a silver lining.If you’re a film nerd, those trailers are gold. You get to see the new Marvel or horror flick months early. The trick is to arrive 15 minutes late. Walk in after the last local ad, and you’ll catch the trailers plus the start of the movie.
Pro tip: Check your Hoyts app—some locations now post the exact “feature run time” in the session details. A quiet revolution, friend. Use it wisely.
HOYTS – Amy J Howard
The big question: Is there a way out?
Short of buying a home projector, no. You can try the Hoyts Rewards membership, which sometimes skips the pre-show if you’re in a VIP screening. But for a standard Friday night, you’re stuck.
Or you can embrace the chaos. I’ve started playing a game called “Ad Bingo.” Spot the car ad with a dramatic shot of tyres? Tick. A bank ad using a ukulele? Tick. A streaming ad where someone dramatically says “this changes everything”? Bingo.
Make it a group activity. You’ll suddenly forget you’re paying $20 to watch a car manufacturer convince you that a Nissan Qashqai brings world peace.
Here’s the ironic truth: Hoyts ads actually make the movie better. After 20 minutes of relentless selling, the film’s opening scene feels like a breath of fresh air. The dimming lights, the silence, the first line of dialogue—it’s sensory relief. The ad overload primes your brain to appreciate the art.
So next time you’re eye-rolling through a car ad for a vehicle you’ll never buy, remember: you’re being psychologically set up to enjoy the movie. It’s free performance art from the marketing gods.
And if all else fails? Bring a stopwatch. It’s oddly satisfying to know exactly how long you’re being sold to. 18 minutes, 42 seconds, last Saturday. I’ve got receipts.
