“Do I have to wear those crazy-ass glasses?!”
That’s all my Dad wanted to know when I suggested to see The Green Lantern in 3-D last night after our Fathers’ Day dinner as a family. I suggested he and I go see a movie, just us, and there weren’t many show times available. The only one that worked was in 3-D. We didn’t want to go to a late show.
“When’s the last time you saw a movie in 3-D, Dad, 25 years ago? C’mon.
So we made a deal.
No sitting in the front row. Done!
As is often the case, I couldn’t help but giggle.
The previews took forever, longer than it seemed they ever have.
I couldn’t help joking with him about the 3-D.
“Are you ready, Dad?”
He dutifully put the glasses on when the main feature was about to begin. He sighed.
The movie began, and immediately, I knew I would hate it.
He seemed non-plussed as well.
“Do you like this?” I asked. I was hoping we could just leave. The beginning was a lot of voice-overs and quiet conversation– I couldn’t hear. Too serious, too sci-fi, an alien council of elders in outer space. No!
But he wanted to stay.
A few times, I checked to make sure he wasn’t asleep– he was so quiet, so still. It’s not like him.
I felt kind of lame for not picking a better movie– but it was either this or Mr. Popper’s Penguins! I had wanted him to come sing karaoke with me, like he had done for my birthday. But no dice.
After the movie was over, we were both up and ready to go as soon as the credits rolled.
He said the 3-D wasn’t so bad– but it wasn’t too heavy in this movie. Good thing it hadn’t been “Avatar!”
Walking out of the theatre, I realized that it hadn’t been a waste at all.
His review of the movie was perfect: “It’s kinda horse shit. I wouldn’t recommend it. I don’t think it’s going to be a block buster.”
“That was awful!” I said.
“It was the worst,” he replied.
“EVER?” I was incredulous.
“I think so.”
Ha! I was there to witness the worst movie he’s EVER seen.
My Dad is great at making his point quickly, in a colorful way. To the point! That’s my Dad. I smiled.
Walking back to the car, I felt so happy. I’m only 4’11”, and my Dad is a lumberjack of a man. Six foot, broad shoulders, good posture, always walking swiftly. He takes long steps. As a little girl, I seemed to take four steps for every one of his giant ones.
“Daddy, slow down!” I’d say.
“Your legs work!” he’d say, with a wink.
I felt so much affection for my Dad, just walking back to the car.
“Once I start a movie, I finish it,” he said. “Just to see how bad it is!”
During the movie I had wished it was something funny, so we could interact more and enjoy it together. But it seemed that our mutual boredom and two-thumbs down review afterward was just as much of a bonding experience, if not more.
We’ve seen all three Lord of the Rings together. We typically see action movies, or comedies.
And I knew it would be another simple memory I’ll keep forever: his apprehension about the “crazy-ass glasses,” and blunt review afterward.
“Not such a good a movie, but good company,” as he said.
As he pulled up to the house, I thanked him for going with me.
“Happy Fathers’s Day, Dad.”
He smiled and said, “Thank you, honey. You’re the reason I’m a father.”