It is official: traditional movie-going continues its steady decline and the trend is no mere blip on the screen. Last summer the sales slump stretched to a modern record of 19 weekends in a row. If it weren’t for “The Passion of the Christ” the slump may have really begun in 2004. And all point to the audiences’ permanent disenchantment with the movie theatre experience.

A lot of Hollywood players are playing the blame game, saying the movies are awful. Some blame high gasoline prices or the burgeoning popularity of DVDs due to Netflix. But I believe one of the central explanations of this trend of empty seats is one unmentioned culprit the experience of going to a movie theater itself. The adventure of heading to the Cineplex has not only become bad, it is almost insulting.

Put yourself in the shoes of Average Joe. Were he to be surrounded by a band of the world’s most talented pickpockets, the assault on his finances could not be more complete than during his foray to the Cineplex. The tickets are at least $10, and Joe has two children who are steering the choice of movie (so he’s not really gung-ho about the fare). The small popcorn is $5 and soda another $5; even a bottle of water costs $3.50.

The theaters are small and crowded and the seats uncomfortable, resembling coach-class airplane seats. From this uncomfortable perch, Joe is subject to a barrage of eight previews and five commercials. However tasteful they are and however much they strive to disguise their nature with humor, mystery, and high production values, they are still commercials in a movie! And it grates on some part of Joe’s soul. Like public radio at fund-drive time, Joe just wants to change the channel.

By now, Joe has spent a small fortune to be here, so he’s not changing the channel. Joe just hunkers down and enjoys it, or else!

Now for the main feature. With the apogee of product placement, some movies are in danger of becoming one long, glorified commercial. Even the space above the urinals is not sacrosanct, and publicity has managed to creep in. A day is coming, and that day may already have arrived, when Joe will reach for toilet paper and find it embossed with a mantra for the newest studio release.

Commercials were incorporated to save theaters and boost revenues, but the glut of ads is helping to sink them. Short-term profitability has superseded the building of warm, hospitable relations with moviegoers. While it has become common parlance to call customers “guests,” the customer has become a mark.

As for the plunder of the patrons, one theater chain insider told me of the common practice of “upgrading” customer orders to higher-priced items. The prey, weakened by the price of the ticket, and the chaotic presence of an unwieldy crowd, seldom detects the change.

“The whole uniqueness of the movie-going experience is being eroded by all the endless ads,” DreamWorks marketing chief, Terry Press, told the Los Angeles Times last year.

Feckless promotion has tarnished the movie-going experience itself, putting people more in commercial-avoidance mode than in enjoyment mode. The former is all about placing barriers on the commercial inundation, the latter about being relaxed and receptive. Psychologically speaking, these two states are completely antagonistic.

The old-time movie moguls and theater operators knew a thing or two about going to movies. It was magical. They could never let a whiff of the harsh outside world affect the movie-going experience. Their palaces were Chinese, Egyptian, and over-the-top Art Deco evocations of enchanted worlds. Then, as now, when one goes to a movie, one wants to leave their cares behind and be swept up in the spectacle.

Now one’s cares follow every step of the way, to the harsh tattoo of sell, sell, sell.

The public ain’t buying it and history hasn’t been kind to business that insults their customers.

Michael Levine is the founder of the public relations firm Levine Communications Office in Los Angeles. He is the author of 17 books including his newest, “Broken Windows, Broken Business: How the Smallest Reap the Biggest Rewards.”