Playing Hooky – Incredibles 2

The_Incredibles_2So yesterday, I played hooky with a friend of mine who lives in my apartment complex. We had found out through other seniors that the Regal Theater had a senior Wednesday.

Now that I am on a fixed income, I am more interested in “senior discounts.” The thing is there are not set “senior age” for most of these discounts. Sometimes it is 55 and sometimes it is 62. So I called Fiesta Casino that housed the Regal theater near my home and asked.

To my surprised “50” was the age for the senior discount. Since I am few years north of fifty, I was all set.

So yesterday, we braved the musty smell and tinkling noise of the casino floor. The light was dimmed to a twilight setting, which is normal in those environments. Men and women in their twilight years were smoking and pulling the slot handles. We kept looking up at the signs and going the wrong way. We circled around and around. I swear that the casinos are built in a different dimension. No matter how blocky the casinos look on the outside, in the inside everything looks about the same.

I was glad that I found the Regal theater. We had to walk right through the entire casino to find it. I will admit that I was disoriented by that time.

At the theater, I expected to wait for the tickets. I mean, the tickets were four dollars a piece. I haven’t spent that amount in years. I think there were only ten people who came to this showing.

If it was just the casino… I wouldn’t come here again. The place assaulted all of my five senses. However, the movie— I was really glad I came.

Possible Plotpoints:

In Incredibles 2, super-heroes are illegal. The family get arrested when they try to save the city from a villain who was bombing and undermining the city. So this is the set up for the real story.

Even though the mother’s job is to show that super-heroes are more helpful and less destructive, my favorite plot twist was when she left the Mr. Incredible home to raise the three children– one of whom is a demon multi-talented child.

I seriously laughed through the entire movie. Dah-ling

 

Advertisements

Repost from Jan 8, 2017: Love, loyalty, and grief

Last night when I should have been preparing for bed, I turned on the TV for some mindless noise and on the CW movie channel (33-2), Hachi, a story of an Akita and the man who found him at a train station. The reason I left the movie on as I dressed for bed, tucked in the dog, and played a game on my tablet was because it was a sweet slow story.

A young boy was asked to make a report about a hero in his life so he told about his grandfather’s dog, Hachi. There were no men trying to steal the dog. There were no car chases. In fact it was not my normal movie fare.

However, as I watched the man and dog interact through play. As I watched the dog escort him to the train station and then meet the professor when he got off the train, I started to get invested in the two of them. Yes, I waited for something to happen, but it was so quiet that I didn’t get the dramatic affect until later in the movie.

At this point, I am warning you– I will be revealing plot points–so if you don’t want to know, do not read further–

The professor dies. Hachi waits for him to come home for several years.

How can I explain the affect this part of the movie had on my emotions. The movie went from being a sweet story about a love between a man and his dog to a emotionally charged movie about a dog that waited for a man who would never come home again.

Of course I made the connection between this dog and my own circumstances. I lost a husband from cancer. I know in my mind that I will never see him again in the physical world– only through a few pictures and recordings. However, my emotions even after two years had not reached my thoughts. Last night, I knew through my body that my husband would never come home again.

I am told that it gets easier. I know it gets easier. I don’t get faced with these thoughts every hour of every day like the first year. I actually laughed a few months ago.

How long did I cry? Enough that my sinuses were clogged and I couldn’t breath. Enough that I was numb. Is this a catharsis?

“The movie was based on the real Hachikō, who was born in Ōdate in 1923. After the death of his owner, Hidesaburō Ueno in 1925, Hachikō returned to the Shibuya train station the next day and every day after that for the next nine years until he died in March 1935. A bronze statue of Hachikō is in front of the Shibuya train station in his honor.” Wikipedia

 

Love, loyalty, and grief

Last night when I should have been preparing for bed, I turned on the TV for some mindless noise and on the CW movie channel (33-2), Hachi, a story of an Akita and the man who found him at a train station. The reason I left the movie on as I dressed for bed, tucked in the dog, and played a game on my tablet was because it was a sweet slow story.

A young boy was asked to make a report about a hero in his life so he told about his grandfather’s dog, Hachi. There were no men trying to steal the dog. There were no car chases. In fact it was not my normal movie fare.

However, as I watched the man and dog interact through play. As I watched the dog escort him to the train station and then meet the professor when he got off the train, I started to get invested in the two of them. Yes, I waited for something to happen, but it was so quiet that I didn’t get the dramatic affect until later in the movie.

At this point, I am warning you– I will be revealing plot points–so if you don’t want to know, do not read further–

The professor dies. Hachi waits for him to come home for several years.

How can I explain the affect this part of the movie had on my emotions. The movie went from being a sweet story about a love between a man and his dog to a emotionally charged movie about a dog that waited for a man who would never come home again.

Of course I made the connection between this dog and my own circumstances. I lost a husband from cancer. I know in my mind that I will never see him again in the physical world– only through a few pictures and recordings. However, my emotions even after two years had not reached my thoughts. Last night, I knew through my body that my husband would never come home again.

I am told that it gets easier. I know it gets easier. I don’t get faced with these thoughts every hour of every day like the first year. I actually laughed a few months ago.

How long did I cry? Enough that my sinuses were clogged and I couldn’t breath. Enough that I was numb. Is this a catharsis?

“The movie was based on the real Hachikō, who was born in Ōdate in 1923. After the death of his owner, Hidesaburō Ueno in 1925, Hachikō returned to the Shibuya train station the next day and every day after that for the next nine years until he died in March 1935. A bronze statue of Hachikō is in front of the Shibuya train station in his honor.” Wikipedia