I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m sorry and everything. People died. It’s a horrible tragedy, that one. But that movie was so ooooooozing with cloying, sappy sentiment it was a bit hard to get down. By the end of it I said to Matt:

Oh for –if one more overly dramatic –if that guy from Extreme Makeover Home Edition shows up I’m just out of here — I’ve had it with this movie.

Matt: No shit. They’re all like, MOVE THAT BUS! ‘Oh my Ga- ahd, look! Look, they put a racecar bed in our stadium! Everything’s just perfect now!’

the crowds weren’t that bad and the movie is chock full of simpsons funniness. we enjoyed it.

but here’s the thing. and you knew there had to be a thing.

we got there early. of course. because i wanted to be sure we wouldn’t be stuck all the way at the front of the theater with, you know, screaming children or big-haired women or the like. so we sit there for twenty minutes before the movie is even supposed to start. okay. that’s our fault. it was our choice to come so early. i remember back in the day when you did that you just sat there and stared at a white screen. dark room. white screen. that’s what you got if you decided to be all timely and get there twenty minutes early. that was your entertainment. that and something from the days we refer to as “olden” but which has now gone the way of the dodo bird: CONVERSATION. you have dark room. white screen. conversation. twenty minutes. where did that go? when did they change that?

we sat in that theater for twenty minutes and watched the screen play images of the hottest stars pimp their latest movie. this was interlaced with “trivia” questions, oddly enough related to today’s hottest stars and latest movies. also thrown in the mix were quotes from the latest movies by– you guessed it, today’s hottest stars. all of this was played to an incredibly annoying soundtrack of songs from the latest movies as sung by today’s hottest stars. every cheesy love song from every cheesy rom-com out in theaters now. in between all of this they showed us commercials of our local businesses. but they weren’t really commercials. they were really just business cards flashed on the screen. while justin timberlake sang his little black heart out, i read about discount wiper changes down at ‘dan, the muffler man’s car-emporium’ among other great deals. i miss the white screen and dark room.

then the movie started and i expected previews. did i see previews? the fact that i just asked you should be some indication of the answer. first we had to endure the usual public shaming, guilt-inducing, paranoia-inciting litany of helpful “reminders” to turn off our cell phones and not to ever, ever steal movies. it’s bad. it’s wrong and awful and you’ll burn in hell. there are several. in case it takes awhile to sink in.

then there’s the fandago bullshit. the tired old paperbags with googly eyeballs and yarn hair telling us how to buy tickets online.

then there’s previews. AFTER the commercials. oh yes, they added commercials. they’re just like regular television commercials except they’re on a gigantic screen and they’re three times as long. while we sat there and waited for something resembling the movies i remember from just a few short years ago, we saw a commercial for: Coke, All, Sprint, Priceline, Nesquik, The Sopranos, Verizon, Snuggle Fabric Softener, and a new show coming out on ABC calling Pushing Daisies.

finally there’s some previews. a couple. stuff i don’t even want to see. nothing very promising. and that’s that. the movie was great. it was funny and worth it and i realize i’m dating myself here, but jumpin’ Jehoshaphat on a hot tin roof, when will this madness end? i thought the steady increase in price over the years to a bajillion dollars per ticket was supposed to compensate for the skyrocketing cost of hollywood making more and more big-budget, craptacular movies each year. what the hell is this shit? i tell you what i’m going to do. i’m going to just deduct a quarter from the price of my ticket for every commercial i have to sit through from now on. i’m going to pay myself back. i’m going to compensate myself for pain and suffering. this i have decreed to be so forever and ever, amen.

see you at the movies!

there was a big, open space with cars everywhere and a big screen and a concession stand and the voices came out of our car radio. well, the van radio. we borrowed my parent’s minivan and backed it in. we opened the back door and spread out a sleeping bag, blankets, pillows and snacks and cuddled up to watch the transformers movie and shrek the third. not bad. the boys didn’t have to whisper, which they liked. they were visibly excited about this new way to watch first-run movies and the bugs didn’t come in. it got a little chilly as the night wore on, but only if you got too close to the doorway. overall we were pretty comfy and content.

what i didn’t remember were the teenagers with their loud, annoying cars. the screaming bass that shook the ground and my nerves. the punk-ass nogoodniks who threw empty beer bottles in the road to listen to them shatter. humongous trucks with diesel engines idling during key parts of the movie, horns blaring unnecessarily and lights blinking on and off for no apparent reason.

plus, i don’t remember getting home at three in the morning just from a double feature.

was it always this way? was it that way when i was a teenager going to the drive-in myself? really? was it three in the morning? i don’t remember staying out that late. but it must have been. the movie can’t start until dusk and dusk isn’t until after nine in the summer. so. there you go. probably. plus a few other things. the unmistakable smell of pot wafting through the night air. hot and heavy make out sessions. steamy windows. very little movie watching actually going on.

plus, i don’t recall being charged per person. as i remember, we paid 8$ for a carload, no matter how many bodies we crammed in the car. and brother, let me tell you, we crammed some bodies in the car.

so, i guess not all change is good and not all change is bad and not all change is even change. you’re just looking at it through older, more cynical eyes.

so i was watching this movie and i was baked and i kept thinking, ‘jesus man. i’ve got to get out of this desert!’ and i kept thinking dennis quaid was a jerk and hoping like hell giovanni ribisi knew what he was talking about. i also thought about ribisi being in that movie the gift by sam raimi. but it was weird cause i knew that was a movie. i just kept going, ‘that guy. that guy trying to build the plane…he was in that creepy movie! the one where cate blanchett was a psychic.’ whoa. that movie was inky.

then i’d sit back on the couch and wait for the desert to envelop me. wait to die of thirst. because they’re never coming for us, man. they’ve forgotten all about us.

so it’s not a good idea for me to watch movies when stoned out of my gourd. although it does tend to make shit movies better for the viewing.

if this were a movie i’d be dead by now. you know how in movies the first sign of an oscar is a cough or a headache? that’s when you reach for the kleenex or your boyfriend’s jacket or whatever’s closest to blow your nose into. that’s when you can guarandamntee someone’s going to bite the bullet. nobody ever coughs or gets a headache in a movie unless they’re going to keel over dead. of course, people never eat or sleep in movies either. unless it’s essential to the plot.

so i figure what with the two week headache and the fact that now i’m having phantom tastes as well, like orange juice tastes like dish soap and bagels taste like dish soap and pretty much everything tastes like dish soap and i don’t have an appetite anymore anyway so who cares about that? i guess i probably have a brain tumor. not that i’m a fatalist or anything.

i should probably go have that checked out. and i will! right after the holidays. why ruin a good time? dish soap-flavored turkey is the bestest! besides, if i wait, it’ll better my chances for an oscar.

“SHUT UP! PLEASE! JESUS, MARY, MUHAMMAD AND VISHNU! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP!??”

and he did.

but my companion burst out laughing then. and continued to laugh throughout the movie which then presented an even bigger problem. but at least chatty boy stopped talking.

i just don’t know what i’m going to do with myself. maybe buy the world a coke. and chill with it awhile.

this was from ’61 so it was long before m. night shamalamadingdong brought out his bag of tricks on like, you know, the sixth sense and whatever, i can’t remember his other movies which are all basically the same movie anyway. and i’m too lazy to go look. and this movie put his to shame. i’m still not sure i know for sure what was real and what wasn’t. and i can’t tell you! because it might give something away. and sadly, it’s not available on dvd. so you’ll just have to get up at 5 in the morning and try to catch it yourself. and it’s worth it. read these 71 other reviews if you don’t believe me. don’t look at me like that. just do it.