Posts Tagged ‘Movies’
Where’s the Baby, where did he go…
…to the movies?
Safehouse: (n) The R-Rated moving starring Denzel Washington and Ryan Reynolds that I spent 2+ hours gripping my husbands arm, wringing it out like a wet towel and slapping his shoulder just so he could UNDERSTAND how exciting and scary and adrenaline-fueled this movie was.
Safehouse: (n) The movie where I saw a mother take her THREE YEAR OLD SON.
Pardon my French, folks, but that is some fucked up shit.
Maybe I should be grateful that it wasn’t Halloween 3? Then again, I don’t ever go to horror movies, so for all I know, there are whole Kindergartens taking field trips to those types of movies.
My husband tried to give the mother the benefit of the doubt – he told me maybe the kid was four. I said, yeah – or, maybe he was two, since our two year old is about his height. (Granted, our 2 year old is an Amazon.)
Either way – WTF??????
It took ME a good 5-10 minutes after the movie just to calm down and remind myself that the movie was a movie and reality is reality. Our subconscious minds don’t know the difference. The subconscious mind of a 3 or 4 year old is about 1000 times more malleable.
And I promise you, I’m really not the kind of mother who rides around on her high horse all day, judging other parents. Granted, I USED to be that person… BEFORE I actually had my own kids.
I’d be at the grocery store or whatever, and when I’d see a mom wailing on her kid – screaming at them or even landing a solid whack on their behinds… And I would be SO self righteous and judgmental of that mom (in my head). Like, “I would NEVER lay a finger on my child!”
Cause then I had a child.
And then I had another child.
And, parents – you know that feeling, how you want to physically hurt any child who dares to lay a finger on your precious child? Yeah… now, imagine seeing your older child wail on your younger child. Suddenly, you want to go crazy on the child who hurt your child… but that is ALSO your child.
Uh-oh…. Exactly. My internal wires get all messed up and yes, I have wound up on more than one occasion (even in public) screaming at my kids or even giving one of them a pretty solid whack.
So it is from down here… very low to the ground, not anywhere NEAR a high horse, where I kneel down and plead to the mamas and papas taking their babies to R-Rated films…
Leave the baby home.
SPOILER ALERT: IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY SEEN THE FILM OR READ THE LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK, AND YOU ARE PLANNING TO SEE THE MOVIE, READING THIS BLOG MAY SPOIL THE ENDING FOR YOU! ON THE OTHER HAND, IF YOU ARE LIKE ME, AND YOU READ THE BOOK AND WERE SURE THAT HARRY POTTER DIED, PLAIN & SIMPLE & CLEAR AS DAY, READ ON, BECAUSE YOU WERE WRONG.
Whoops. Did I spill too much in that spoiler alert? Sorry…
I was out with some friends the other night when the subject turned to Harry Potter. My friend works at the studio that produced the movie, so she had seen it a bunch of times. I announced cockily that I would never see that horrible movie because “Who wants to see Harry Potter die? It’s depressing!” (If you’ve been faithfully reading my blogs, you know I never waste my time watching a movie that doesn’t have a happy ending.)
My friends looked at me strangely. “But – you know he doesn’t really die,” the one who works at the studio offered gently.
I stared at her blankly.
“BatSheva (BatSheva Vaknin). You really think that J.K Rowling would finish the whole series off with Harry Potter just dying and never coming back? Ten million kids would break down her door and murder her!”
“But I read the book. Harry Potter dies. So did Dumbledore.”
“Well, yeah, it seems like he dies. But then you read about him in the epilogue, how Harry is grown up with kids, and you realize he survived. You remember? The epilogue.”
Turns out, I realized when I got home and flipped through the book, I hadn’t really read the epilogue carefully. Or at all. Or – I think I was just so confused and mad at the book for killing off Dumbledore and Harry Potter, that I just didn’t even want to deal with understanding how an adult Harry was doing 10 years later. I tuned it out.
I’m a really fast reader. I can read a 500 page novel in a couple of days, tops. (Before I had kids I could do it in one or two days, but those rascally creatures really demand a lot of our downtime, don’t they?!) It served me well throughout life, reading this fast – especially at Yale, where most teachers assigned something like 10,000 books per week on top of papers and exams.
My problem is with absorption. I don’t remember anything! (For those of you who also don’t remember anything they’ve read past a minute ago, here is the blog where I wrote about my terrible memory.) If I race through a book I’m usually okay because I can recall a character or event from earlier in the book when it’s referred to later on. But if I’ve had to put the book down at some point, then pick it up days or weeks later? Forget it. I can still enjoy the read, but I won’t be able to put all the pieces together into a coherent picture.
As I mentioned in my Memory Loss blog, this is especially frustrating when it comes to politics or social issues – I read convincing arguments that completely back up my point of view, but when it comes time to defend my point of view, I usually can’t recall the details – only my general feeling that I know I’m right!
Saw the movie, enjoyed it. He doesn’t die. What else happened? Ummmmmm……
Sheva (BatSheva Vaknin)