Well, really for the pizza and beer.
When my husband offered to take the family to a movie last weekend, I was all for it. See, when my husband suggests a movie, it’s an evening event. Thanks to Alamo Drafthouse and Flix Brewhouse, a movie comes with craft beers and tavern food. Beats the hell out of Diet Coke and Raisinets.
As we gathered around the computer to select a movie – which usually leads to an argument that would send lesser families to Camp David – my daughter reminded us that she already had plans. She made us promise we wouldn’t see anything “good” without her. That was an easy promise, and not because I’m a thoughtful, selfless mother. No, I knew the “good” movie option was off the table as soon as I lost my romantic comedy ally. There was no hope for compromise when two violence-loving dudes (a.k.a. hubby and son) held the majority. I was stuck. But hey, I’d get to hang with my guys, I wouldn’t have to cook, and I knew there’d be Firemen’s #4.
As the lights went down for Thor: The Dark World, I ordered an amber ale and psyched myself for an entertaining show. After all, I’d really enjoyed Man of Steel. Granted, I would’ve cut forty minutes of fighting, but the story was interesting, there was romance, and Henry Cavill – a man I’ve loved/lusted after since The Tudors – headed up an all-star cast.
But back to Thor. The movie starts in a far-off galaxy, with some all-powerful rock that will determine whether good triumphs over evil. Blah, blah, blah. Your basic story, but Thor, played by Chris Hemsworth, has the fine-looking superhero factor in his favor. Add Sir Anthony Hopkins as Thor’s father, and you’re really upping the score. I’ve adored this actor since he introduced Hannibal Lecter and a new food pairing with Chianti. Despite this talent, I’m still not mesmerized. I turn to my husband. “Another beer, please.”
Thirty minutes later – even with a buzz and a much-too-short shot of Thor’s bare chest – I’m still not feeling it. I need something more. “Honey, please order me a pizza. Make it a supreme.”
TEN. HOURS. LATER.
Battles are still raging. I can’t tell the good guys from the bad. They all wear horns. (My husband later reminded me that Thor was a Viking.) The only clue is the color of their eyes. And I mean funky colors. Ninety percent of the cast wear contacts. I’m guessing Bausch and Lomb paid dearly for that product placement.
I try sleeping, but it’s too loud. Notice I didn’t say too bright. The whole movie is set in space. My dark-day depression has maxed out. I’ve got to get help. “Chicken wings, please.”
ONE. MILLION. HOURS. LATER.
Guess what? They’re still fighting. I’m biting my buffalo-wing-burning lips to keep from yelling in exasperation. I order a giant cookie. At this point, I’m not sure if I’m trying to suppress my anger or punish my husband by running up a huge bill. I just want it to end.
FINALLY, it’s over. Bloated and miserable, I roll out of my seat to find my guys high-fiving (their version of two thumbs up). I point at them. “You owe me four chick-flicks.”
My son shakes his head. “No. He took his shirt off once. We only owe you three.”
The kid’s taste in movies may stink, but he is a clever, clever boy.
I can relate to this! George loved explosions and breaking glass. Thanks for the laughs. The TEN HOUR mark was brilliant
Perhaps a line should be added to marriage vows: “With good movies and bad…..”
Not that I didn’t absolutely love (and drool) over the bare-chested scene, but it was too obvious. I’m sure there was some producer at a meeting that said, “We have to pity the poor wives, daughters, sisters, and other females that get dragged along…I know! *snaps fingers* We’ll throw in some random half-naked shot.” And what about Chris? Knowing that he’s just a slab of meat for us to chew on? It wasn’t quite as smooth (literally, that guy is man-scaped) as Chris Evans (Captain America). It was good seeing you at the Christmas party, Chris! I miss seeing you at the critique sessions.
Great seeing you too. I don’t feel too bad for Chris. Yes, he knows he’s capturing the female audience with his physical appearance, but we are an audience, and an actor’s got to love that.
Sorry, my schedule does not allow eleventy-billion hours for movie-viewing….and I was so looking forward to Thor.
Not to worry. For fans of these kinds of movies, I hear the length is actually much shorter. Why is my mind going in silly places after writing the last sentence?
Too funny, Chris! I haven’t seen it, nor will I – unless dragged by a member of the male species who I dearly love. 🙂 Congrats on your Emily final!!
Thanks, Jo Anne! I’m thrilled.
Chris, I loved your recount of your Thor experience. I LOVED the movie, but that’s me. I also love Chris Hemsworth so seeing him onscreen for 2 hours is a treat for me regardless of what else is happening on the screen. I would watch him read the ingredients for oatmeal.
Hilarious. And btw, I know of several women who loved this movie, and not just because of Chris.
Chris, your son obviously takes after you … smart mouth and all!
Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. With time, I’ll be in big trouble.
Chris, your son obviously takes after you …. smart mouth and all!
Thanks for stopping by!
Chris, thank you for giving me a game plan for getting through this movie when my testosterone-heavy household decides to see it. I’m making my beer selections now! Maybe I’ll run some laps, too.
Good luck, baby!
That was hilarious! And I was quite intrigued by the movie theaters you mentioned. I did a search to find out more about them and discovered the Alamo Drafthouse has a franchise about an hour away from here. Too far to really take advantage of it, but maybe it will be the catalyst for more of them to spring up in the area.
Oh, I love these theaters. They’ve changed my entire movie experience.
Wow that would be a great way to see a movie. I’ve never heard of them. But I loved your review of Thor anyway.
Oh, it’s the only way we see movies these days. Glad you enjoyed the review.