My wife is hosting some church ladies every month. I make it my movie night. Let’s just say I’ve been invited – to not stay. The problem this past Monday night was that there wasn’t really anything I wanted to see. I’ve been to “Lincoln” and “Django” (“The D is silent”) and “The Impossible.” I haven’t seen “The Hobbit,” but there wasn’t a night feature.
I decided on “He’s still dead but he’s getting warmer,” about a zombie with a conscience. Why not? I love “Dexter,” the hit series about a serial killer with a conscience, and “The Walking Dead,” about zombie killers, some with consciences and some not so much.
I got to Rave about 20 minutes early and, to avoid those awful commercials, I went into “Lincoln,” which had just begun. I almost stayed for the whole movie again. It’s my favorite this year. DD Lewis has no equal these days.
After a few minutes I headed over to the zombies, where I filmed a couple of minutes and texted it to Alexis. She texted back, “Cool, dad, but ur going to get arrested.”
This gave me the great idea of going in each movie and sending her a short clip, which of course I did.
The thing that was in my favor was that each theater was nearly empty. My next stop was “Les Miz,” where I caught Ann Hathaway singing, “I dreamed a dream,” and getting her head shaved. I also caught a lot of Russell Crowe singing. He’s had finer moments.
After that I ducked into “Mama,” where I stayed probably the longest. I’ve had two self-proclaimed horror movie experts, Fred and Alexis, both say that “Mama” was not horrifying, but horrible. However, in the 40 minutes or so that I watched, there was more than one good fright. Mama, who is supernatural, doesn’t walk, she slinks along the floor, like some kind of crab-like corpse.
The story is about these two little girls, now around the ages of six and ten, who survived alone in a cabin in the woods for the past five years. But were they really alone? Or was Mama there???
There are many other questions about Mama, but I was on a mission.
Last was “Django Unchained,” Tarantino’s return to his “paybacks are hell” genre. And who better to exact revenge better than a fast-on-the-draw bounty-hunting slave? Well, maybe a left-for-dead, pregnant, bride-to-be Samurai.
I joined Django just as (SPOILER ALERT!) Dr. King Schultz killed Calvin Candie. The next five minutes were similar to the “Kill Bill” scene with the Crazy 88’s. Get the picture?
Anyway, that was movie night. It was different and kind of fun, and I’ll never be a threat to our own creative critic, DLaprad (the D isn’t silent).
And so far, thankfully, Alexis is wrong: I haven’t been arrested.
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I’m writing this on Tuesday morning. This afternoon, Publisher Boss (PB) and I fly to Nashville for the Tennessee Press Association Winter Convention. These trips, more often than not, bring adventure not on the agenda. If anything, PB and I have learned to expect the unexpected. Stay tuned.
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It was a fun Sunday night at the judge’s home in NLR for the Super Bowl. Besides Randy, and me it was Kathy, Raina and KBD (aka Mark), who wore purple in homage to the winning team. The highlights of the evening were a 108-yard kick return, the judge’s new sausage-infused Queso and the Go-Daddy extended smooch.
David W., if you’re reading this, KBD, and I’ll replace the scotch.