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Movie Memories and Celluloid Nightmares

All righty, folks — time once again for Blogger Idol. So let’s get naked, throw down the Twister board, and spin that wheel, whaddaya say?

(Um, purely metaphorically speaking, of course. You know what I’m sayin’. Look, let’s just get on with this.)

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Week Six Topic: ‘Movies’

Hmmm, movies, eh?

Well, I’ve got to admit, I really don’t get out to see a lot of movies. On cable, sure. On the internet, all the time.

(Of course, those are just clips of movies. And I have to turn the sound way down, so nobody can hear. But really, those aren’t the kinds of movies that are really ‘about’ sound in the first place. Moving on.)

I’ll tell you what — I’ll prove my tragic uncoolness in the movie-going category by reminiscing about the movies that I have ventured out to see over the past few years. Have a seat for this one, folks — it just might shock you.

Movie Watched, Number Last: The Matrix: Revolutions (2003)

I saw this one in IMAX Surround-O-Vision, or whatever the hell it’s officially called. My office organized an event — first dinner, than the Matrix finale. That was, I don’t know, four or five months ago or something. I mean, I guess it was okay and everything, for a sequel. I liked it and all, but let’s face it — I haven’t watched another movie since. What does that tell you?

Movie Watched, Number Next-to-Last: The Matrix: Reloaded (2003)

Another Matrixy IMAX wowfest, or IMAXy Matrix blowout, or something. Basically, a big fat long car chase at twelve times life size. Still, pretty visually damned impressive. Particularly ‘plotty’? No. ‘Thinky’? Not like the original. But I did have an awfully interesting — and quick — ride home that night. Sweet!

Movie Watched, Number… Uh, Next on the List: Chicago (2002)

Okay, look. I got roped into watching this somehow. My wife was involved, and possibly other estrogen-laden individuals. The details are sketchy, frankly — I’ve tried my best to suppress them entirely, with limited success. On the other hand, there was an awful lot of cleavage running around in this flick, and any time half-naked jailbird chicks break into song, it can’t be a bad thing.

(Okay, so that probably only applies to female inmates in movies, I suspect. Still, let me have my dreams, dammit!)

Movie Watched, Number Whatever We’re Up To: The Matrix (1999)

All right — on the good side, I really dig this movie. The science fiction, the ‘brains in a vat’ angle, the special effects… it’s right up my alley. On the bad side, I honestly can’t remember actually watching it. I don’t remember where I was, who I was with, or what the hell I was doing there. So it’s quite possible that I was horribly, head-lollingly drunk. Was there an enormous cartoon pig in this movie, right in the middle? That would answer a lot of questions, I’m thinking.

Movie Watched, Next-to-Last That I Can Remember Clearly: The English Patient (1999, second run theater)

Oh, jeebus, don’t ask. My wife and I were out with another couple, and somebody — *cough* the girls *cough kaff* — got it in their head that this would make a good ‘date’ movie. Right. ‘Date’ flick. Hardly.

First of all, it was a damned depressing movie. There was crying, and dying, and war, and all sorts of unrequited, um, things-or-other. I wasn’t really paying attention for a lot of it. But most of the people around us looked pretty damned sad. And the shit went on forever — this movie was, like, three, three-and-a-half years long. We could have gotten it on, had a kid, and sold the damned thing on the black market in the time it took this movie to play out. I’m almost snoring just thinking about it. Ugh.

Movie Watched, Last That I Can Remember Clearly: The Mummy (1999, second-run theater)

I actually saw two or three movies in the theater where I watched The Mummy, but this is the only one I remember. Perhaps that’s because the other movies sucked; maybe it’s because it’s the only one where I wasn’t running to the bathroom every twenty minutes. But probably it’s because the theater had a bar upstairs, and Long Island iced tea specials on movie nights. (Hence the bathroom-going, as well as the memory loss. Oh, LITs, how do I love thee?)

Anyway, it was a damned silly movie, frankly. I remember my wife remarking later that she was surprised, a few days after watching it, to find out that it wasn’t meant to be a completely comedic send-up of the Indiana Jones genre. She’s got pretty high standards for movies, you see.

(And a pretty low tolerance for alcohol — after a couple of those cocktails, she’d have probably found The English Patient hilarious, too. Maybe I should have tried that. Double ugh.)

So there you have it, folks — six in-theater movies in six years. And in the meantime, I’ve probably seen Major League, The Princess Bride, and Cool Hand Luke nine dozen times apiece on cable. Jeez, I’ve really got to get out more.