Movie Review
On the opening day of the newest DC comics extravaganza, “Wonka Forever: Black Panther Vol 2,” I went to a movie theater to see it with my social media coach and her kin. Not having been to a movie theater since they introduced talkies, it was quite an experience for me. Is anyone else shocked by the price of popcorn in a movie theater???
As for the movie, it was a cross between “The Lion King,” and “The Little Mermaid.” Typical for Disney, it had a happy ever after (HEA) ending. Oops, I forgot to warn: “spoiler alert.” Better late than never. It was HEA, but Ursula may appear in the Vol 3 movie. The central conflict in the movie is over vibratorium, a precious metal used in sex toys.
Through no fault of my own, they forced me to leave the theater before the end. As most of you know, I’m very sensitive. Indeed, so sensitive that I could marry three times. Sensitivity has been very good to me, at least until this movie.
Spoiler alert! (Again): There was a lot of noise in this movie. And a lot of fast-moving action. My perception nerves are better attuned to a civilized Jane Austen movie. During some particularly auditory and visual sequences that threatened my sensitivities, it forced me to shut my eyes and hold fingers in my ears.
To better explain my trauma, here is some deep background. On this opening day of the movie, the theater was densely populated. Many of the population were children in the 10 to 16 demographic range. One specimen of the male variety was seated next to me. I guess maybe 12 y.o. I had a large bag of popcorn and noticed him eyeing my huge popcorn inventory enviously. Most of you can already guess what happened next.
When I was forced to shut my eyes and cover my ears during loud active sequences, my popcorn supply fell precipitously. And for further verification, I heard him chewing popcorn when he had no visible popcorn inventory.
“Hey, you little asshole!” I yelled at him, “Stop stealing my fuckin’ popcorn! Dickwad!”
You would think that his supervisor would have admonished him as well. But nooo. This nondescript old person - one of those very old people where you can no longer discern gender - has the unmitigated gall to yell at me, “Don’t you talk to my grandchild that way!” Several empty suits and strap hangers in the audience joined the fray, yelling, “Yeah, don’t abuse the kid.”
Obviously, a witty response was called for. “Fuck you and the horses you rode in on! You shithead snowflakes wanna take it outside?!?” I spoke metaphorically. How the heck was I supposed to know the theater help would take me literally and unceremoniously bounce me from the theater? I am a victim of woke!
Go to the movie, get a bear-proof cover for your popcorn bag, and don’t sit next to any little shits. Just sayin’…