I would describe myself as a fairly anxious person. I mean, it depends on the situation, but I am definitely a hand-wringing, furrowed brow kind of girl.. Take last night for example. KJY, the GM and I headed to the movie theater. We arrived 30 minutes early for Little Red Riding Hood (which I will get to in a moment) and I was walking about five paces in front of the girls because I was so afraid it would be sold out and we couldn’t sit together. I am like this any time I go to a movie/concert/festival. It could stem from going to movies with Tommy D and always arriving 15 minutes later. Of course in this case, the theater was basically empty (for damn good reason) and we sat right down.
A few minutes later three people came in and sat directly behind us. As soon as the lights dimmed, simultaneous interpretation took over. My job has exposed to me a lot of situations where simultaneous interpretation was required and I am cool with it. However, a movie is not the place for such activity. Nor is it a place for kicking my chair or burping repeatedly. I know I am a little sensitive at movies and sometimes open myself up to annoyances (try going to a movie at Union Station in DC), but I figured this theater seemed like a fairly civilized place where I wouldn’t want to turn around and slap the person behind me. Wrong-o.
If I had to choose one word to describe the actual movie it would be HORRIBLE. Two words? REALLY HORRIBLE. I am sure you already know this because you 1) watched the trailer and/or 2) read the reviews. I did neither. Sitting through the first ten minutes is enough to let you know you are in for a total sh!tshow. I think that on some level we were all mildly entertained by the crappy dialogue (e.g., “Get me outta here!), but overall it’s a movie you should boycott. I think my favorite parts included the town scenes where all 20 of the townspeople got together to go fight the wolf and the brooding, obviously not the wolf but wanting you to think it was the wolf, Romeo.
After we finished lamenting the loss of 90 minutes of lives, the three of us returned home to Mr. Swirley and CadillacJohnnyMic watching bad Friday night TV and drinking beer. I complained a bit and CJM told me that it was obviously a bad movie because it’s a four sentence story that cannot be translated into a 90 minute movie. He was a bit more crass, but you get the idea.
This morning we are listening to 90s rock. Here is a Built to Spill song to start off your weekend.