Movie Night

Planning movie night with my parents has always been somewhat bothersome. What for most families is a relaxing night in becomes for me an exercise in strategy and patience. My dad is just not into movies. He can appreciate certain flicks for their messages or artistry (very few - he could name them on one hand) but even these hold little appeal as a way to spend a Friday night. My mom's standards of viewing pleasure are considerably more modest, but she does have her own qualifiers that make choosing a movie difficult: no violence (she gasped in terror during the gun scene of Miss Congeniality), no suspense (she hid under the covers from Injun Joe whilst viewing DISNEY's Tom & Huck), and always a happy ending.

Once I've scoured the movie selections for a rental that meets above criteria, it still requires at the very least gentle persuasion to entice both parties to take their places on the sofa. I begin the seduction by studying reviews and familiarizing myself with the plot line. After passing along this report, I then must assure my mother that it is a happy movie, and - if I've previewed it, which is often the case - that I will forewarn her of any less-than-sunny moments.

Lights go down, movie begins, and just as I'm suspending my disbelief and surrendering to the fantasy..... "Sweetheart, how do I turn up the volume?" This usually comes from my mom first, followed by something like "I am so freakin' deaf. You gotta turn it up more!" from my dad as soon as I put down the remote. These days I just hand them the remote from the get-go, pointing out to my mom the button that controls volume.

Then commences the great guessing game. At the first ominous tone, my mother's sweaty palm locks my arm in a death grip and she demands to know what's going to happen next. I explain it in as much detail as I can remember, and reassure her that there will be no blood and that it all ends happily. She still shuts her eyes tightly and waits for the "all clear." Needless to say, The Dark Knight didn't stand a chance... we barely made it half-way. My dad also plays this game. As soon as he thinks he's got a feel for a character, he begins anticipating their every move. This sounds something like, "Oh, so what's he gonna do now? He's gonna go to bed with her, isn't he? Oh my God! How ridiculous!" This speculation, which is often inaccurate, is met with "No. Just WATCH, dad!" His tolerance for stupidity has always been low, but it is virtually nonexistent when it comes to the kind of idiots that only Hollywood can write. I have to restore his confidence in the overall moral message of the movie to get him to stop rolling his eyes and keep watching.

This past Friday night, I was one tired Persephone and decided to stay in and treat myself to a movie-thon on my couch. I curled up with my cats and began with my first pick, Footloose. My thought was that I would ease myself into the night, starting with the lightest and working my way into the meatier selections, Serpico followed by The Wrestler. This was poor planning.

Serpico (1973 Al Pacino) is based on the true story of a cop who discovers rampant corruption in multiple precincts of the NYPD. The acting was top notch (no surprise there) and the truth behind the plot made it both gripping and heart-wrenching. Ultimately, the movie is a narrative about doing the right thing for its own sake, not because it's easy and definitely not for personal gain. This concept is all but lost on the great many of us today who have been told to aim for our own "happiness" (a.k.a. pleasure, joy, and/or instant gratification) above all else. What is "the right thing" anyway? Isn't it all relative?

The Wrestler turned out to be an ironic follow-up. Living by the above modern credo, a man who relied on shallow, episodic meaning reaches the middle of his life realizing that he has nothing else. When he is unable to wrestle any more, he grasps at real substance only to discover it's too late. This tragic tale was increasingly uncomfortable as it unfolded. I forced myself to finish it, keeping my fingers crossed that it would be worth my while in the end. While Mickey Rourke deserved his Academy Award nod for his performance, ultimately I went to bed with a sick feeling in my stomach, wishing I'd been satisfied with simply reading the synopsis on imdb.com.

The most interesting aspect of the night was observing myself throughout the process. I picked my rentals based on similar criteria as my parents: they had to be either feel-good and uplifting or substantive moral commentary. I cringed at the violence, fought the urge to shut my eyes at parts, speculated endlessly (ok, I actually searched online for spoilers halfway through Serpico when the unknowing was more than I could stand), and prayed for a happy ending. I flirted with the volume control almost compulsively, finally deciding on a slightly lower level than was comfortable because I didn't want to disturb my neighbors. And in the end I decided that I would have been better served reading a book or taking a nap. Or writing on the blog.