Sunday, 23 January 2011
Ed and I went to the movies the other night. Just the two of us -- a perfect chance to bond without working too hard at it. We've had a few memorable movie dates over the last few years, including Alexander (Dad, are those two guys ... uh ... I mean, they seem like real close friends .... Why yes, son, yes they are) and Troy (Dad, why is Achilles in his tent -- isn't he the hero? Well, yes, son, but he's also kind of a dick) and The Passion Of the Christ (Dad, how many lashes is that? I don't know son, I lost count). Hmmm. Ed and I seem to go in for the big grotty ones. I'm starting to feel like the captain from Airplane who wondered if the little boy liked gladiator movies ...
So anyway, there we were with our popcorn in hand and our feet up on the chairs in front of us, watching True Grit. It fits our pattern. There isn't a lot of creepy prurient ambiguity, but the movie is a sprawly bloody historical drama, and Ed and I both had fun. There's a scary snake-corpse scene towards the end and the two of us went Ewww at exactly the same moment.
Side note. Inexactly forty years ago my dad and I went to the movies together, just the two of us. This didn't happen all that often, but Mom had no desire to see this particular movie, and I was happy to go to any grown-up show. The film was True Grit, starring John Wayne in an eyepatch, and a girl I have no memory of whatsoever. In fact, all I can remember about the film is Glen Campbell in a blue checked shirt singing the opening credits (I may have this wrong, but there's singing going on somewhere) and me and Dad both going, Ewww at the same time.