To snack or not to snack — from crisps to gins in a tin, how obnoxious is your theatre food?

Hell is other people, and there are several places where one feels this keenly. The Tube, obviously, public bathrooms, often — and the theatre, an artificially constructed space where you sit, self-consciously, while other humans perform for you.

In the case of the latter (but definitely not the first two), can you begrudge someone a snack to take the edge off? Actress Imelda Staunton does. This week, she declared her pet hates to be crisps and plastic glasses. “Why are you selling crisssssssspsssssss?” she yowled in an interview with the Radio Times. “I just do not get it. None of us can be without food for five minutes. And the drinks! Plastic glasses falling on the floor when there’s a quiet moment.”

Incidentally it’s not OK in the cinema either. She once rounded on a bloke eating a bag of Doritos at the flicks. “I said, ‘You can’t eat those. You either eat them now before the film or afterwards.’”

So, in case you ever find yourself at the cinema with Staunton (or have tickets to see her in Hello, Dolly! at the Adelphi in August), then here is a taxonomy of the most obnoxious snacks to take into the stalls.

Crisps

Granted, the broad has a point. It is difficult — impossible — to eat crisps discreetly. Moreover, the harder you try to do so, the louder the sound of the crunch seems to reverberate off the roof of your mouth. There is also the crackle of the packet — plastic on plastic — that sets sensitive teeth on edge. Plus, the obnoxiousness of crisps is not limited to audio: as anyone who has observed a fellow audience member tipping the bag into their mouth to salvage those last flaky shreds, and then wiping their greasy fingers on the seat’s chair, knows.

Obnoxiousness rating: Peak Asbo.

Wine

Again, as Staunton observes, the noise of a plastic tumbler tossed to the floor can puncture the charged air of a key moment on stage. Chekhov wouldn’t stand for this, etc. Also you will probably split your cup and spill half a glass of £7 house Chianti into someone’s Daunt Books tote.

Obnoxiousness rating: Stop glugging.

Maltesers

Another snack with a high crunch factor — though admittedly the odour is less strong than a bag of Piper’s Lyecross Cheddar & Onion. Those big sharer bags are seemingly infinite — a Mary Poppins bag of sweets — and consumers always, however public the circumstances, or quiet the theatre’s hush, lick their fingers in order to harvest the melted chocolate.

Obnoxiousness rating: Gross out.

Ice cream

Really depends on the brand. In lolly territory, you risk sounding like you’re sucking on something rather less appropriate from row H. On the other hand, a pot of posh ice cream is broadly neutral — unless you are sort of person who gets a brain freeze and whispers about it to your companion.

Obnoxiousness rating: Approach with caution.

G&T

Ice sloshing around a plastic cup sounds like wet, arrhythmic percussion — in other words, maddening, and likely to distract from the cultural feast before you. By logical extension, sneaking in your own gins in tins is the connoisseur’s choice. Pop a few in your coat pocket — just mind you pop the can before the house lights fall.

Obnoxiousness rating: If it’s good enough for Fleabag...