Chicken Jockeys and Corporate Clarity: Why Organizational Alignment Matters

This isn’t a Minecraft movie review — promise. It’s a front-row seat to a live, fast-paced case study in organizational misalignment.

What we’re seeing play out is messy, loud, and weirdly full of popcorn... so naturally, we have to talk about it.

The vibe coming out of CinemaCon 2025? Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly electric. Held from March 31 to April 3 in Las Vegas, the annual convention of the National Association of Theatre Owners is usually where studios pump up excitement for their upcoming slates and energize theater owners. This year, though, the buzz was less "blockbuster hype" and more "emergency strategy session." The movie theater industry is still wobbling.

After a rough 2024 — largely thanks to the ripple effects of the writers’ and actors’ strikes, paired with studios pulling back on production — the hope was that 2025 would finally steer the industry back on track. Maybe even start to resemble the glory days of 2018. The rallying cry among insiders? “Survive to ’25.”

But the year didn’t exactly come out swinging. One big-budget flop after another tanked at the box office, with Q1 numbers coming in 7% lower than the same period in 2024.

And then — Minecraft.

To everyone’s surprise, the movie adaptation of the iconic video game came crashing onto the scene and flipped the script. In just one week, it became the biggest movie of the year — and even outperformed any title from last year. As of this writing, Minecraft has raked in over $700 million and is well on track to break the billion-dollar barrier.

Even more impressive than the revenue? The audience. Unlike Barbie or Top Gun: Maverick, which leaned into Millennial and Gen X nostalgia, Minecraft is pulling in Gen Z — a demographic that’s been notoriously tough to lure into theaters. Despite ticket prices, teens are showing up in droves, turning screenings into full-blown social events. They’re putting down the controllers and heading out to the theater like it’s 2005 again. It’s loud, chaotic, and very much alive.

For theater chains, it’s a massive win — and potentially a blueprint for the future. If moviegoing can be reframed as a live, in-person fandom event — a place for community, shared excitement, and a little chaos — the theater industry might just claw its way back into cultural relevance. And yes, theater executives are thrilled.

But here’s where it gets tricky: that social excitement? It’s not exactly tidy.

Take the infamous “Chicken Jockey” moment — a reference any Minecraft fan will appreciate. When it happens on screen, fans go wild. Some shout out catchphrases, others launch their popcorn into the air in spontaneous celebration. Is it disruptive? Definitely. Is it messy? Oh yeah. But is it also driving hundreds of dollars in extra popcorn sales per showing — and creating a bonding experience that gets teens off their couches and into theaters? Absolutely.

This kind of in-theater chaos is a feature, not a bug. At least, it should be.

Unfortunately, not everyone’s gotten the memo.

My teenage son and his friends recently attended a screening and were greeted with prominent signs banning popcorn throwing. As you might guess, this acted more like a dare than a deterrent. When the big moment hit, so did the airborne popcorn.

Then, just as the credits rolled — with the theater buzzing and fans waiting for the post-credit scene — the lights flipped on. Staff entered and told everyone to leave immediately. Those who asked to stay for the post-credits were threatened with a lifetime ban.

Now, that’s just one anecdote — but scroll through social media and you’ll find countless examples of similar clampdowns. Some theaters have even stopped the film mid-showing to scold the crowd.

NOTE: There are videos circulating on social media showing behavior that goes well beyond popcorn tossing and loud reactions — including the use of fireworks and other genuinely dangerous actions. To be clear, I’m not suggesting that destructive behavior should be tolerated under any circumstances.

Of course, no one’s pointing fingers at the hourly staff tasked with cleaning up the popcorn tsunami after a Minecraft screening. They’re doing their jobs — and doing them well. But this is exactly where organizational alignment becomes crucial.

If executives are cheering Minecraft as a box office miracle and praising its Gen Z appeal, that energy and vision need to make their way down to the people actually interacting with those Gen Z audiences. Without that connection, you end up with frontlines enforcing rules that contradict the very behavior that’s driving your success.

For theaters, alignment could look like practical adjustments: build in longer turnaround times between showings, increase staffing, maybe even consider hazard pay for especially messy showings. Or take a page from Rocky Horror Picture Show's playbook and designate one “anything goes” screening per day — popcorn confetti encouraged.

This isn’t just a movie theater problem. It’s a classic organizational blind spot.

Ask yourself this: Is your organization’s mission — the big, energizing why that gets leadership fired up — actually making its way to the people on the front lines? Or is it getting lost somewhere between the C-suite and the concession stand?

And it’s not just about communication. It's about action. Are you giving your frontline teams the tools, time, and support they need to truly align with that mission? Because without follow-through, communication is just hot air.

Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle framework lays it out clearly: successful organizations start with Why. The How and What might vary by role, but the Why — the purpose — should be the common thread that connects everyone, from the CEO to the part-time usher tearing tickets.

Otherwise, you’re not just cleaning up spilled popcorn — you’re cleaning up the fallout from a disconnect that runs much deeper.