Mom called and said she wanted to “be spontaneous.”
It was Friday. I had a weekend planned of solitude, yardwork, and painting projects. I said it couldn’t possibly be before Sunday. I had every minute of Saturday planned.
She said she wanted to see “Rock of Ages.”
Hmm. That’s…. weird. But it’s only a movie and not time consuming and well – as far as ‘spontaneous’ goes, this is low end. We can do that. I mean, EW, WHAT? We don’t like ANYONE in that movie…? But yeah… okay.
THAT was my thought process. It was FLAWED. I SEE THAT NOW. The next time Mom says she wants to do something spontaneous that involves me, there will be a LOT of questions asked and research done. (the last time that I wanted to do something spontaneous, we ended up at a Willie Nelson concert for 11 hours and I ended up in VERY bad shape and forever after firmly against the legalization of certain substances, so I should probably give her a break.)
Mom does not read movie reviews. I think that’s because she doesn’t want to be “influenced.” I also do not read movie reviews. (Because I do not want to be someone who reads movie reviews.) And if just ONE of us were different about that, we could have had a very different evening last night.
Basically – and this is JUST me, I know – I really HATE musicals. I always have. As a young kid I remember telling my sister and mom that I think they’re “embarrassing.” They tried to tell me I was using that word incorrectly. BUT I WASN’T. I genuinely get very embarrassed whenever someone bursts into song in a musical. EVERY TIME. I cringe. I feel overwhelmingly, irrationally sorry for them about the life choices they made that led them to that moment. I want to look away and not see it. I’m exceptionally uncomfortable with the entire musical genre. I’m really probably more comfortable with stripping as a genre than musicals. Not that either one is great, but musicals in my opinion, are worse.
Rock of Ages is in that genre. (It qualifies for a few others, in my opinion, but that’s another post I won’t write)
The opening scene has the blonde girl bursting into song on a bus ride. And then the people on the bus, one by one, start singing. Every time someone bursts into song, I’m shocked. Embarrassed. Did NOT see that coming, oh my GOSH, STOPIT PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. So it was a LONG movie for me. It just KEPT happening.
By the end of the first song – the opening credits are STILL rolling – and I’m hiding behind my mother, slid down into my seat, stomach aching from silent laughing, CRYING, horrified, snotting, embarrassed to pieces. Mom is holding my hand, just like she did when I was four years old and very afraid of drive-through car washes.
No one else in the theatre shared that reaction. I know. Because when I got it together and sat up, I looked around. EVERYONE ELSE WAS FINE WITH THIS. It was BIZARRE to me. Didn’t they SEE that?!
That sequence of events repeated itself countless times.
But that, by comparison, was the OKAY part.
The movie was GRODY. I mean, I cannot UNSEE that nastiness. I wish I could. It was disgusting. I left and felt horrifically dirty. Like I needed a long shower. And a toothbrush. With bleach. And a lot of prayer and soft pajamas with little fluffy sheep and a million Bible verses embroidered on them. (I don’t actually own a pair of those.) ICK. Don’t see that movie. It gave me a disgusting dream I will not EVEN get into, but EWWW.
Mom was equally grossed out. She said that we should probably not tell anyone we actually saw that. And i was all, “TOO LATE, MOM!” At dinner before the movie, we ran into a friend from church and Mom told her what we were seeing. Then I told her I was getting divorced. Her reaction to the movie choice showed more horror than the reaction to the divorce news. We left, pondering how surprising that was. And then halfway through the movie, I leaned over and said, “KELLY’S REACTION TOTALLY MAKES SENSE NOW, RIGHT?!”
And it did.
Rock of Ages: worse than divorce.