Yep. Same with TV, or films on TV. You've just watched, I dunno, a serious drama set during the Armenian genocide, or a documentary about a man whose wife has dementia that's been acclaimed as a haunting meditation on life and loss, or an examination of the immediate and lasting effects of the Hiroshima bombing, and…
as the last words are ringing in your ears and the carefully-selected credits music begins…
or the soundtrack fades to the silence the director has chosen to run over the first part of the credits, in order to allow you to absorb and sit with what you've learnt and experienced…
BAM
the credits are instantly squeezed into a tiny unreadable postage stamp in the corner of the screen, garish pictures of people you don't care about, either naked or covered in sequins, are plastered over the screen, and a continuity announcer yells at you that
NEXT ON CHANNEL SHITTY, CLINT'S SHAGGING MIA BUT RYAN DOESN'T KNOW! AND OVER ON SHITTY+2, IT'S TIME FOR I'M HAVING A CELEBRITY 400LB GYPSY WEDDING, GET ME OUT OF HERE ON ICE!
and you never get that moment to process everything you've seen, heard, thought and felt over the past hour or two, or to look at the names of the people who created the work you just appreciated.
IT'S PART OF THE FUCKING FILM. FUCK OFF.