…and tonight I didn’t have to. I, finally, after planning on it for quite a number of years, went to the movies by myself this evening. I had mixed emotions about the situation as well as the movie itself.
Being alone creates an air of aberrant behavior, so combined with my out-loudedness, I do actually look like the crazy lady. But if you can manage to not be bothered by the notion of being alone, which, might I add, Woody Harrelson helped me conquer, then you probably wouldn’t care if you looked like the crazy lady. (However, why be “out-loud” at all, if not for other people to hear? So part of my being obviously feeds off of the image.)
Down sides to being alone at a movie: no one to point out the things that you missed, or see deeper meaning in something you didn’t. No one to snuggle up to. No one to discuss “favorite parts” or discrepancies with. In my case, though, I never have a favorite part–I’m a gestalt movie-goer apparently.
Up sides to being alone at a movie: no one to talk through parts of the movie, or “get” something you didn’t, promising to “tell you later,” but then later forget. No one to create any kind of awkward touchy tension. No one to ask, “so, what did you think of it?” when it’s over. Why I don’t like that conversation I’ll probably never know. Probably for the same reason I don’t like “how was your weekend?” but I’ll probably never know that one either. Maybe I just like to be non-conforming. Who knows?
It helped that no one else sat in my entire row, I think. Well, either that or it gave me a complex that I need to shower more often. It kind of just felt like I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the den watching a movie I couldn’t pause.
The movie, though, I liked. It did all the things a movie should do, and I think a smidgen more. I laughed (’cause, come on, it’s John Cusack), I got all misty eyed at the humanitarian and father-daughter parts, though I “kept it real,” I was scared when all of the natural disasters happened, I wondered if any were possible, and I felt quick-witted for picking up on some subtleties, despite their very biblical connotation (i.e. the ship Genesis, the kid’s name being Noah, the llama in cargo). You’ll see–when you see the movie. I’m sure there were more, but it took me a while to realize they even existed, so I wasn’t really paying too much attention to begin with.
Oh, and also? Love you, James Cameron. Can’t wait for my December movie-of-the-month: AVATAR!
And The Lovely Bones, but that’s with the Book and Movie Club Meetup.
And maybe Did You Hear About the Morgans? but that might be a rental later on in life. It looks funny enough that I might pay money to see it. (It’s also only $8.50 at PJ Cinema. Rock.) I might draft my friend from third grade, Sharon, to go see one of ’em.
Anyways, so much more to say, but I’d rather not plug in Macky, ’cause I’m lazy and comfortable…and waiting to get back to New Moon. I’m such a sucker for Stephanie Meyer’s books, even if I read one every six months (or more realistically when the movies are going to come out, even though I don’t actually see them in the theater). I especially liked the pages simply labeled “October,” “November,” “December,” and “January.” Meyer seems to catch the perfection in a broken heart. Before you roll your eyes in criticism, look at it this way: if I’m gonna read a romance novel, at least let it contain vampires. RIGHT?
😉 ‘Night, folks.