For our 6th anniversary, I thought I would be especially giving. I offered to go to whatever movie Staci wanted to see, and I would not make any negative comments about it to her (however, I did reserve the right to make fun of it when she wasn't there). I knew it was dangerous. I expected trouble. But I figured I could handle it. I might even like the movie she chose, like when we were dating and she had me watch Return to Me... that was good. "David Duchovny dating a woman with the heart of his dead wife." Why, it even sounds like an episode of The X-Files.
It was after 8 pm before we left the Lagoon. We didn't want to stay out too late and decided not to stop by the house to check what shows were out on the internet (we probably could have called the theatre, like people used to in ancient times, but who thinks of doing that?). So, without any knowledge of what was playing, we went to the theatre.
It took but a mere glance at the marquee to realize the full extent of the danger. She wouldn't go for The Dark Knight, so I started rattling off the movies that I hadn't heard of--which is a lot. It's hard to keep up will the latest releases when you don't watch television.
"We've got Fly Me to the Moon at 9:15--that sounds like a romantic comedy--then there's The House Bunny and The Longshots at 9:45... Nothing else until 10."
She wasn't taking the bate. Staci squinted, trying reading the marquee. I panicked and started grasping at straws.
"Uh... The Rocker is at ten..." We had passed the poster on the way into the theatre. I thought I saw Dwight Schrute in his undies. Dwight Schrute in his undies was not something I wanted to see. But, given the circumstances, Dwight Schrute in his undies would do.
Just then, Staci made a look--a strange, determined look--and I knew it was over. Before I could stop her, she was within reading distance of the marquee. She turned. Giving me the if-you-say-anything-you-will-die look, she declaired, "I want to see Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2."
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2! They made a sequel! A SEQUEL! Somewhere, deep within my subconscious, I was aware of such a movie; the way I am aware that someone is working on a Thundercats movie (which I hope is totally awesome). So the existence of the film did not come as a shock to me, but why in the name of all-that-is-good did it have to be out on the night that I promised to watch anything!
On the plus side: the mere title of the first one gave me three years worth of jokes. By sticking a "2" at the end of it, I should get at least 9 years of jokes according to The Law of Exponential Returns From Sequels Based on Stupid Movies. Heck, that one scene I saw of Carnosaur 2 has lasted me 13 years!
The usher tore our tickets in half and gave me an ominous "Have fun... bud!" (which Staci thought was very amusing), and we made our way to nether caves at the back of the theatre. Only one dark hole was further from the realm of life and the sun than the one we entered... it was showing Death Race.
At this point I would normally give a spoiler alert... but what is there to spoil? Is there anybody on the planet who doesn't know how this movie ends? Even among the isolated Venezuelan Yanomami, the men roll their eyes as the women paddle canoes to the nearest theatre.
Anyway, the movie review:
Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2... was long. And I'm not just referring to it's name.
Half the time I was looking away in embarrassment for the characters (characters who, as if in possession of some bizarre psychosis, were not embarrassed by their own actions). The other half I was looking away in embarrassment for the filmmakers. How many cliches can they fit in a single movie? Couldn't they pasted scenes from other movies together, and saved on production costs? Or was the cost of that scene from Grease too expensive?
After the movie Staci goaded me. She asked... get this... she ask WHAT I THOUGHT ABOUT THE MOVIE.
I had promised not to make any negative comments while she was around, and I reminded her about my oath. "However," I said, "I would be fascinated to find out what, exactly, YOU thought was good." At this point she broke with laughter.
I honestly don't think she liked it. Rather, I believe she has developed a tolerance against certain forms of attack, and will endure such attack so that she may enjoy watching others suffer under the onslaught; similar to what I do to other people at sushi restaurants (Just kidding! I only did that once, and I felt horrible about it).
Staci continued to pressure me to say something good about the film. I managed to muster three things that I could classify as "good." I classify them as such, because they were the only things I DIDN'T expect.
1. Feisty girl falling through the scenery.
2. The line that I laughed at, but can't remember now.
3. Blondie didn't have stud at the end (seriously, when the blond one started taking off her clothes after some Greek dude jumped into the ocean, I thought she was finally going to get her man [Note to the men: That might SOUND like something worth watching, but it isn't]).
As I close, I would like to point out that I kept my promise. I have not made any negative comments about the movie while Staci is here. She has been in the living watching... just a sec and I'll check... she's been watching Father of the Bride. Her tolerance against these movies is truly great.
1 year ago