The Benefit of Second-hand Smoke, Part 2

When last we met, my husband and I had gone to see a real movie in a real movie theater, a movie theater that quickly filled with cigarette smoke. I know. I didn’t believe it, either.

Warning. Spoilers abound. Skip to the next bold print if you need to.

I introduced you to the marvelously stupid rock-Transformers, otherwise known as the Watchers. Remember them from Sunday School? Nah, me neither.

Yeah. The Watchers were fallen angels (the Nephilim in the Old Testament. But instead of marrying the daughters of men, these guys helped build the ark. I know. And they looked pretty much like this, give or take a leg or two.

Yeah. The Watchers were fallen angels (the Nephilim in the Old Testament. But instead of marrying the daughters of men, these guys helped build the ark. I know. And they looked pretty much like this, give or take a leg or two.

 

Originally, I thought it was a period piece. I was kind of right. It’s bloated and made me scream a lot.

I don’t know what the message was supposed to be. Was it a fitness movie? There was a lot of running. Or maybe it was about hugging? There was a lot of hugging, too.

It wasn’t about the ark. In reality, it took years. In the movie, it was built in a two-minute montage with the aid of a magic seed and the rock-Transformers. It wasn’t so much about his adventure with the animals, either. They were glossed over, arriving in an amorphous mass and appearing to be generally the same species. Has the director only seen two kinds of snakes in his life? And the moment they arrive, he tucks them neatly away by putting them to sleep with the help of special happy smoke so they don’t eat each other or him during their time on the ark. (But if they wake up with the munchies, he pretty much defeated his own purpose, right?). So they’re going to sleep for the next year.

I think the movie’s biggest failure is that the director forgot he was making a movie that was based on a book – a book that maybe a few billion people have read. It’s a huge risk. There are a couple of ways to pull it off successfully. A director needs to think so far outside of the box that it hits viewers right over the head and they know to expect the unexpected. “Oh, Brother, Where Art Thou?” comes to mind. It’s a genius retelling of the Odyssey, and one of my favorite movies. I get a lot of satisfaction finding the elements that tie it to the original story. The other way is to stick pretty darned close to canon. This director does neither. Big mistake.

I know Aronofsky is an atheist. I don’t think he had to believe in God the Creator in order for the film to work. Sadly, though, he did not believe in God the character, either. He commits the cardinal sin for writers everywhere. He tells instead of shows. Rather than hearing God’s voice and hearing the message right along with Noah, we are treated to a dream in which Russell Crowe spends ten seconds underwater. The moment he wakes up, he’s all “The Creator said I gotta build this big boat and we’re all gonna die!” Really? That’s what you got from that dream, Noah? Right. Last night, I dreamed my dog Phoebe ate my wallet and turned into a jackalope. So I’m pretty sure that means God wants me to buy a wardrobe of pink hot pants, strap on some rollerblades, and run for President. That leap was weak at best, lazy at worst.

The problem with taking God out of the story is that without Him, Noah’s motivations become muddied. In the first hour, Noah isn’t shown in any act of worship, he just seems to have a general idea about what’s right. It reminds me of the phase of my life when I went to church on Easter because I had this vague notion that’s what I was supposed to do. Would someone with that level of devotion believe they were being told to build a giant boat? And would they obey? Doubtful. Maybe he would build the boat out of self-preservation, but then how do you work killing his grandbabies into it? Suddenly the film makes no sense. There’s no believable catalyst.

Imagine The Lord of the Rings with no Gandalf. Frodo just tells us he met this old guy who said he was supposed to hike 1500 miles and dump a ring into a volcano. Would we buy it? Probably not. We needed to see Gandalf, to experience his terror  first-hand. Only then can we swallow the premise of Frodo’s perilous journey. And we do, hook, like, and Slinker/Stinker.

Maybe it was about vegetarianism? The bad guys were first labeled to us as bad guys because … wait for it… they ate meat. Killing animals is wrong, wrong, wrong. Forget that (in the Bible) God actually instructed man to make animal sacrifices and that Noah was to bring seven pairs each of the sacrificial animals.  Or that in the story of Cain and Abel, the murderer was the veggie-raiser, not the shepherd.

Oh, wait. I did say I would bold a section to let the spoiler-haters know when to tag back in. Here you go!

It was a mess of a film with everything and nothing going on at once. I know it was directed by an atheist. That doesn’t bother me. It could still have been a thought-provoking and engaging film without the religious aspect. But when the intent is to remove the religion from a religious story, it needs to be replaced with something else equally compelling and profound, more than just “eating meat makes you the devil.”

I can live with poor movie making, lazy plot and silly CGI, though. The deal breaker, what prompted us to get up and walk out of the theater, was the over-the-top violence that partially involved over-the-top cruelty to animals. When I buy a ticket for a movie rated PG-13, I should feel comfortable in knowing I am not about to be subjected to animals screaming while they are ripped apart  or have to watch them try to get away after their body is mangled. PG-13, huh? Is that the kind of thing you want your 13-year-old desensitized to? I don’t. When the violence is taken to that level, the film needs to be slapped with a big, fat R. It’s not a kid’s movie. It’s not a teenager’s move, either, in my opinion.

Was Aronofsky thumbing his nose at believers? “Here’s what I did to a favorite religious story! Neener-neener!” I don’t know. Maybe. But it reminds me of the time in an act of supreme defiance, one of my toddler children peed on the dog. Yes, the kid made their point and I had a bit of a mess to clean up, but the kid was the one who stooped to peeing on the dog. Which of us had the bigger problem? So Darren, dude, I hate to be the one to tell you, but you just peed on the dog.

So we walked out. And thanks to the smoker, we had a good enough reason to get our money back. Because that’s what we did. We could have gotten return tickets to come back when Smoky Joe wasn’t there anymore, but we didn’t. We got the refund. Because life is too short to sit through a pointless picture.

 

The Benefit of Second-hand Smoke

My husband and I decided to treat ourselves to a movie. Like, in a theater. I found one I wanted to see, and off we went.

About two minutes into the film, husband and I looked at each other and said “Is someone smoking?” And the answer was yes. Smoking. In a movie theater. The audience collectively waited for the miscreant to put the thing out. We couldn’t see the culprit, but it was pretty obvious to everyone that they were there. (Let me interject right here that I am not a “condemn smokers to hell” kind of gal. I am, however, asthmatic. And seriously. Smoking? In a movie theater? C’mon, kids!) It was like hanging out in a bar.

Don't smoke in the theater. Angry usher will get you! Or bring you pizza. Whatevs.

Don’t smoke in the theater. Angry usher will get you! Or bring you pizza. Whatevs.

One person left the theater and returned with an usher. She could not find the source of the smoke. My money was on the kid who said “F- you” repeatedly when she came up the steps toward him, but I am no Sherlock Holmes. Instead of ousting him, she brought him a pizza. No, I am not kidding. She did get another usher, however. The two of them scoured the place with no luck. After another complaint, a manager was brought in. She could smell the general direction the smoke was coming from, but she couldn’t catch anybody. Finally, we moved seats hoping that we could at least get away from the worst of it. After an hour, we left the theater and got our money back, and as we left, an officer of the law came in to try to sort it out.

My husband and I will be ever grateful to the individual who decided to flaunt social graces and light up illegally. In doing so, they saved us from perhaps the worst movie I have ever seen. And I even watched Dodgeball. Accidentally. The drama in the theater itself was more compelling than the action on screen. Yeah, I’m talking about Noah.

GIANT SPOILER ALERT. I know. You’ve already read the Bible story, so you know what happens. Trust me when I say you don’t.

I knew next to nothing about this movie going in, except that it was a retelling of the story of Noah’s Ark. And it starred Gladiator and Hermione Granger. And Hannibal Lechter as Grandpa. What else do you need to know, really?

So a few minutes in, I began to question the authenticity of the piece. The wheel hadn’t been invented yet, but we are shown a mine with some kind of wind-driven machinery. Okay, then. So it’s fantasy? I can live with that. Then the rock-Transformers show up.

Yeah. The Watchers were fallen angels (the Nephilim in the Old Testament. But instead of marrying the daughters of men, these guys helped build the ark. I know. And they looked pretty much like this, give or take a leg or two.

Yeah.So.  The Watchers. They looked pretty much like this, give or take a leg or two.

The Watchers were fallen angels. And boy did they fall far. Instead of looking all glam and naughty-angel-like, they looked like walking charcoal briquettes. Except they didn’t burn. And they could totally kick human tail, except for when they couldn’t. I don’t know. It didn’t make sense to me, either. There currently aren’t any images of them available because they’re pretty hilarious. Shh. They’re top secret.

This post became entirely too long and cumbersome for one sitting. Stay tuned tomorrow for the conclusion of “Why This Movie Was a Real Waste of Time.”

Have you seen it? Did the rock-Transformers make you giggle?

Is Everything REALLY Awesome? A Lego Movie Review

I have mixed feelings about my kids’ addictions to Lego bricks. I do love their educational value. The Padawan saves his money to buy sets that he likes, the more complicated, the better. He learned the value of following directions, and also not to pour all thousand pieces out on the table at once. Those who accuse sets of stifling a child’s creativity have never seen a ten year old redesign a space ship to give it more playability and durability. We have loose bricks, too. Very loose, under foot, even. I don’t mind. The boys love them, and they’ll spend hours building and creating. And we’re all hooked on the Mystery Mini Figures.

I hate the rampant commercialism. We went to a Lego Discovery Center a couple of summers ago. We’ll never go back. I looked into purchasing the Minecraft sets at Christmas. 469 micro bricks for a mere $35. Micro bricks. For $35, I can purchase a Lego set that is all of 3x3x3. Inches. $35 and Squish could hold the whole thing in his hand. No. Thanks.

When the Lego Movie was first advertised, I knew I would be dragged to see it. It’s PG, and ever since “Horton Hears a Who” introduced Squish to some fabulous new words, I’ve had a strict policy of prescreening anything rated higher than G. Last Sunday, I got up a wild hair to treat the Padawan to a movie, sans little brother.

I didn’t tell him where we were going, just that we had an appointment at 1:30. My secret scheme was almost blown at lunch when he said “I want to go see the new Lego movie.” I played it off by asking him if the movie was even out yet. Clever me. He had no clue about our destination until we stepped up to the ticket window. Apparently, he thought I had found him a therapist (I don’t even…), or maybe we had an appointment for a massage. Yes, that sounds like me.

We went full works. Popcorn, sodas so big we’d be peeing Pepsi for a week, enough candy to guarantee illness. It was a perfect set up.

Long story short, I knew I would hate it. I was wrong. I left the theater thinking that Lego Group deserves every penny they make on this film. It was delightful. The cast is star-studded. George Takei, anyone? There’s action, there are celebrities bringing back beloved roles (no spoilers here, folks), there’s earworm that I am still singing.

There’s plot, there’s silliness, and best of all, the Padawan and I both loved it, but neither of us felt compelled to go out and purchase any of the affiliated items. The sets they’ve come out with to go with the movie tend to be a mish-mash of bricks with limited use, and even some pink Duplo style blocks. They’re in keeping with the plot of the movie, but they all look like something a kid could make themselves. We will collect some of the mini figures, but we do that anyway.

I recommend the movie for ages 7 and up. There’s (surprisingly) nothing inappropriate that I could see (and you’d better believe I was looking). There are no snarky kids, no graphic anything,although a few characters are mistreated, and an important plot point is the main character’s friendlessness. The one thing that would make me hesitant to show it to Squish is the plethora of “butt” jokes. I don’t like that word. But that was the only thing. The only thing.

The reason I don’t recommend the movie for younger children is because it is plot-driven, not so much action-driven. There is action, to be sure, but without understanding some intricacies of plot and dialog, there are not enough explosions and car chases to keep many younger children engaged. I know. The theater was full of them, and they got kind of wiggly. My suggestion for those whose little ones are dying to see it is to wait for the DVD. Then buy it. And watch it until your ears fall off. Because they will. Everything is awesome.

The Padawan hasn't had the best luck with Mystery figures. Most of the ones he got at Christmas were girls. But I covet that chihuahua, don't you?

The Padawan hasn’t had the best luck with Mystery figures. Most of the ones he got at Christmas were girls. But I covet that chihuahua, don’t you?

Misery Loves A Little Company

Well, not misery so much as Les Miserables. Les Mis loves company. To the tune (see what I did there? Tune?  It’s a musical and all) of 600 people squashed into a theater the day after Christmas.

It’s our tradition. The girl-child and I go and see a movie on Christmas eve and leave the boys to fend for themselves. This year, though, the only movie she actually wanted to see opened on Christmas day. We went, but barely. By the time we got there, the line for the movie was out the door. As I stood waiting for the guy to ring up my tickets, he commented “I hope it doesn’t sell out before I can get this done.” Me, too, pal.

I know most of the people in the theater had already seen at least one stage production and probably owned a soundtrack or two, judging by their ability to sing along. Not me. I was a first timer, my experience limited to a reading of an abridged translation in the 8th grade. Or a speed-reading. Or a quick glance before the paper was due. I remember something about a sewer.

Anyway, I didn’t have a lot of preconceived ideas like I did for The Hobbit, or even actually remember what the thing was about. I knew there would be a little singing here and there, and no overdubbing or flying monkeys (don’t ask!). That’s all a body needs to know before seeing a film, really.

I can’t totally decide how I rate this movie. It’s either a 3 1/2 or 4 1/2 stars.

The music was incredible. Mind, my knowledge of the soundtrack is limited to Susan Boyle’s audition for Britain’s Got Talent, so I have little to compare it to, but I loved the music.

The singing was 75% really good, 15% spectacular, and 10% painful. Hugh Jackman’s first few songs made me want to crawl under my seat, but he did get better. Anne Hathaway was so good that I almost forgave her for being such a worm in Brokeback Mountain. Almost. And Amanda whats-her-face was stellar as Cosette.

The acting was superb. Every single actor committed to their performance in a way I’ve never quite experienced before. Maybe it had something to do with the powerful music.

So if I loved the music, the singing, and the acting, what’s left? Um, the cinematography. Dear heavens. I am praying that the film isn’t nominated for an academy award for cinematography because we do not want to encourage this kind of behavior.

I know the bouncy footage is supposed to make me feel like I’m there. It didn’t. It made me feel like someone had just handed the camera to their five year old nephew and told him that there was a Ninja Turtle around the corner. And some of the shots are retained in the movie because the actor nailed the song, but the cameraman didn’t. There were many shots that were totally out of focus, or focused on weird things. And not in an artsy kind of way. In one scene, the only parts of Marius’ face that were in focus were his right ear and his left cheek, and he was the only one in the shot. That was some cinematic magic right there. How they pulled that off, I will never know.

And what is with the tight shots? And I do mean tight. Close ups take on a whole new meaning here. Hugh Jackman’s head took up 2/3 of the movie screen. His Michael Landon/Pa Ingalls hairdo was a bit distracting at 20 feet tall.

A dramatic scene loses some of its impact when the actor has nasal leakage larger than the average preschooler hanging off their face. I didn’t weep over Fantine’s lost innocence because I was too concerned she was going to drop a snot-runner on my new purse. The people on the front row should have been issued umbrellas. How could I focus on Marius’ incredible voice when his Adam’s apple was the size of my dining room table?

The movie was haunting and beautiful in so many respects, but I don’t think I can watch it in a theater again. Given that a good 70% of the filming consisted of super-tight closeups, I think it will actually look better on my $10 yard sale television than it does on the big screen. It was off-putting enough to cost the movie a star in rating. I think. I can’t decide if the actors make up for the lousy camera work.

I would like to watch the movie a second time and a third, and a fourth (all on a smaller screen, of course), so I will likely buy it when it goes on sale, but I can’t see it in the theater. I can’t look up Russell Crowe’s nostrils again. I could see his brain.

An Unexpected Something

The Padawan and I have been reading The Hobbit together in anticipation of the movie’s release. Is there anything better than curling up on the couch under a blanket and sharing a delicious adventure with someone you love? I think not. We went last night to see the movie.

It was the Padawan’s first Opening Weekend, and we were both so excited! We’ve been looking forward to it for months. MONTHS! I’m a cheapskate by nature, but for this event I loosened the purse strings and bought the popcorn and the candy. And let the kid stay up hours past his bedtime. We were so ready to love this movie!

And we didn’t.

Howard Shore worked his magic with the score. Themes, both new and familiar, were exquisite. In this movie, we are treated to Shore’s interpretations of the songs that were so integral to Tolkien’s work. The soundtrack is a must-have. The deluxe edition, if you please.

The cinematography was simply gorgeous. Some shots were even more dramatic and lovely than the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

The acting was stellar, the cast spot-on.

But without the story, all of the above are worthless. Peter Jackson took a beloved tale of high adventure and turned it into a bar-room brawl.

The characters were unrecognizable. The Bilbo Baggins I grew up with charmed me with his delightful manners, no matter how absurd the situation. I loved him so because, though a party of ravenous dwarves appeared on his doorstep and proceeded to empty his larder, he was ever so polite. Though confused by their demands for cakes and ale, he complied. These simple acts set the tone for the story, both courtly and romantic.

The character on screen last night was rude and selfish, a hobbit from the 21st century. In his heart, Tolkien’s Bilbo wanted the dwarves to leave him to his peace (and his food), but he would not dishonor his guests or his heritage by saying so. The 21st century Bilbo told them to give him back his tomatoes.

Jackson’s rough treatment wasn’t limited to Bilbo. Radagast the Brown was a wizard in my mind akin to St. Francis of Assisi. The person we were subjected to last night was a buffoon with bird turds plastering his hair.

The script was toyed with until it was no longer the story I love. Where there wasn’t enough excitement, Jackson interjected some trumped up drama, twisting the tale and its inhabitants into caricatures of themselves. And there’s falling. Entirely too much falling.

There is no room for graphic violence in Tolkien’s story, but Jackson fixes that. Where the book depicts clean kills, Jackson creates torture and brutality, a goblin king eviscerated in front of the audience, a pale goblin’s arm severed and spurting blood, later replaced by a claw skewered through the flesh of his upper arm.

This movie should never have been rated PG-13. I’d have given it a solid R, and I never would have taken my son. By comparison, many of the Harry Potter movies were rated PG-13. I let the Padawan watch them after he had read the books because those, at least, were fairly true to their original source. I no longer trust Peter Jackson.

My joy for today is the sweet innocence I rediscovered in my Padawan. I think of him as nearly a pre-teen. Last night, my little boy was returned to me, bouncing in his seat with childish enthusiasm and anticipation, reaching for my hand to cover his eyes in the scary parts, delighting in the enormous container of candy in his possession. I treasure last night, regardless of the quality of the movie.

Happy weekend!

Know Before You Go: Legoland Discovery Center

When we got home from our vacation, I wrote two letters. One, a letter to the Fairview Inn and Suites thanking them for an amazing stay. Seriously. The best part of the trip! Indoor pool, clean room, unbelievably courteous and helpful staff (one person offered to bring us more popcorn to our room if we ran out), fitness center with state of the art equipment, continental breakfast that included a make-your-own-waffle bar and fresh fruit. We’d go back again just to stay at the hotel.

The second letter was not as happy. It was to the Legoland Discovery Center in Atlanta, the biggest disappointment of our trip. If you’ve got a  Lego fan in your life, here’s what you need to know before you pay a visit.

It’s expensive. Tickets for the five of us set us back about $80. The site encourages visitors to order tickets online in order to receive priority, so we did. We learned that “priority” doesn’t mean that you get to the head of the line at anything. It means that you get in the door. And if you arrive an hour after your scheduled time, they don’t actually have to let you in if it’s busy.

It’s poorly laid out. After getting our ticket, we were sent into a room that measured about 20×30. Maybe less. It contained five or six large elements and some Lego statuary and was apparently their “factory.” A guide explained how Lego bricks are made, which was interesting. The problem was that the doors on either side closed on us, essentially trapping us in the room, as both sets of doors were automatic and had no handles on the inside. They allow 25 people in this room at a time, which is too many to move comfortably.

When the doors finally opened, we were walked toward a rats’ maze where we were to stand in line for the shoot ’em up game. Except that the line actually blocked the exit from the factory completely. In order to get out, we had to walk through the wall of people waiting in line. I was claustrophobic and ready to leave at that point.

Duplos rule the day. In the whole facility, there were only two areas to build with actual Lego bricks. There was a master builder classroom that can hold a max of about 20 people. Classes were held about every half-hour. The instructor taught them how to build a cube. The other Lego construction area was a build-your-own-race-car area. Builders could test their constructions on two five-foot “J” shaped ramps. Sadly, every single car flew up at the end of its run and either hit someone or left the area completely and became a tripping hazard. There were no attendants at this element. Squish was hit in the head twice.

If your kid considers Duplos  to be beneath them, there won’t be a whole lot for them to do.

There are height restrictions and requirements. The informational map you can pick up at rest stops and restaurants is actually the same one you get at Legoland. It indicates there are such restrictions, but it doesn’t tell you what they are. The soft play area (what my son considered to be the only decent element in the place) is for 54 inches and under. The wizard ride is for 36 inches and above.

caveat: Height restriction applies to parents, too. Unless parents are smaller than 54 inches, they are not allowed to accompany their child into the soft-play area. This means that younger children may not be able to navigate the climbing portion of the structure unless they have an older child to help them. It also means that your toddler may get stuck in a high elements with much bigger and rougher kids, and you can’t see them at all from the ground.

There are lines for almost everything. Lines were shorter at Dollywood. There’s a section where kids can create a construction out of Duplos and see if it withstands an earthquake. There were stations for five or six kids at a time. There were at least 150 kids there that day.

The Lego store has no exclusive items, and their prices are very high .  For the die-hard collector, there’s nothing better than laying hands on something you can’t get anywhere else.  Look elsewhere. Everything in the store can be purchased at Target or Wal-mart for a much lower price. One set we saw was 50% more expensive than it is at Wal-mart.

Other Lego stores are better stocked. They have a little bin where visitors can build three mini-figures for  a set price. At other stores, you get a body, head, hat or hair, and an accessory. At this store, there were no accessories at all, and only  couple of kinds of hair, three different hats, and four bodies. They  also have a small section of “pick a brick” where you can buy Lego bricks by the ounce. The selection of bricks, though, is poor.

My son had been saving his money for months for this trip. He ended up buying nothing. His assessment of the store was “I can get it for less somewhere else.” Dear Lego store, when a 10-year-old Lego freak with a pocket full of cash refuses to spend any of it in your store, you’ve missed the mark somewhere.

You can’t get real reviews on their website. In addition to picking only positive reviews to post (they’ve only got two reviews up at the moment), they reserve the right to edit your post. I would expect that they would only pick the good ones since it’s their site, but it’s creepy that they can edit your post.

One positive: The one thing in the facility that isn’t exorbitantly expensive is the food. The larger combos are for a family of 4, but individual portions weren’t that costly.

My advice: If your child is between the ages of 4-8, it is not a weekend, the tickets are free, and you’re in the Atlanta area anyway, it might be worth visiting Legoland Discovery Center. Otherwise, take the money you would have spent and buy a really, really cool Lego set. You’ll have something to show for it, and you may not lose your faith in the Lego company.

***Update: I did get an email response from someone at Legoland. He assured me that right after our visit, the Lego store restocked their merchandise and now has exclusive items. It’s not worth my money to travel back down there to verify. It appears, also, that all exclusive items can be found on the website. Save a trip and order online.

A Day Late and a Dollar Short Movie Reviews: The Avengers

I am well aware that every other human being on the planet has already seen this movie. Twice. Thanks for pointing it out. I’m a little behind, but does that statement surprise anyone? Yeah, probably not.

Husband and I celebrated our anniversary with a big pizza, a long walk, and a movie. I let him pick. Sort of. I did not want to spend my one movie date a year watching Prometheus (Sue me. It looks too much like Avatar, and I didn’t like that one, either. Or Smurfs. I guess I have a thing about blue movies.), so I narrowed it down to three. The other options were Snow White and one I have since forgotten and therefore must not have wanted to watch in the first place. Husband chose The Avengers.

Let the record show that I’ve never been one for super heroes. Not since the rabies scare when Wonder Woman let me down, and I landed in the emergency room. There’s a blog in there somewhere, but the pain is just too real right now. Wonder Woman’s complete absence from The Avengers along with a recommendation from my daughter, who also eschews hero movies, was enough to get me in line to buy a ticket. It was a good choice.

There’s enough action to make it exciting, but not so much blood that I was totally grossed out. I have low tolerance for graphic violence. I don’t like to pay $10 to sit with my eyes covered through half the film. The special effects were great without being over-the-top. I have little patience with “Hey, look what we can do!” CGI. Transformers, I’m talking to you, here.My dog could have kicked Big Bad Guy’s (see how little of an impression the movie made on me? I can’t remember the villain-bot’s name!) tail in the time that it took for him to completely transform. *yawn* 

Anyway, back to our show. The dialog in The Avengers is pretty funny without being totally cheesy, and best of all, I didn’t have to see any of the tie-in movies in order to understand what was going on. Score! I’m a fan now, though, and I’m catching up as fast as the library can get me the others. I’ve got Hulk in my hot little hands, but at the moment he’s competing with the Olympics for my attention. (I now invite you to imagine Hulk competing in the Olympics. Wasn’t that fun?) And then I have to get on the waiting list for Iron Man 2. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.

I loved the movie. But I still have some questions.

Why does anyone think that a coffee shop with glass walls is a good place to hide from alien invaders who are clearly hell-bent for tesseract, as though they  become suddenly invisible with a cup of Pike’s Place in their hands. Maybe they do. I don’t know. I gave up coffee, and I’m as bitter about it as day old grinds.

Why do alien invaders always head for New York City? Is it the whole Ellis Island thing? Granted there’s a huge concentration of human-kind for those whose ultimate goal is world domination, but there’s no place to land, New Mexico is prettier, and face it, it’s not that much of a coup. Those people are hiding in coffee shops, so they weren’t that hard to out-think in the first place.

Why were there only three fat people in the whole movie? We’re a bigger chunk (yeah, I get it) of the population than that, and the movie is in New York City. There are bakeries on every corner, and yet most of the people in the movie including the extras have clearly never eaten at one. Mmm-hmmm.

Whatever. Those are minor things, and I can get over them. I’ll be anxiously awaiting the sequel next summer. Will you?

 

I don’t understand him, but I heart him.