Walk the Line (4April06)

This week, we experienced another first -- we left for The Cheap Theater without a clue as to which movie we were going to see.

It had been...a Tuesday. I had an outstanding amount of work to do -- and I worked frantically for most of the day, followed by a brief zone-out phase in the afternoon (as is the case every Tuesday). Then I suddenly looked up to realize that it was after five, I had laundry that needed to go in the dryer, and I still had no clue what we were going to have for dinner. So I got up and spent the next 45 minutes or so running from my office to the kitchen to the laundry room, trying to do everything at once. It's a miracle that I didn't end up putting the chicken in the dryer.

So dinner was late -- and as we ate it, we discussed our movie options. But we couldn't seem to come to a conclusion.

We finally got it down to two: Syriana and Walk the Line. Syriana was one that Paul really wanted to see -- and I'd agreed to see it, out of payment for the number of chick flicks he's seen without complaint. Walk the Line was one that we both were interested in seeing -- yet, in the weeks and weeks and weeks that it had been playing at The Cheap Theater, we'd never really been in the mood to see it. They both started at around the same time. They were around the same length. They were both well-ranked on IMDb. And, since I was actually more in the mood for a goofball comedy (as is usually the case after a long Tuesday of work), I didn't care either way. In fact, I was pretty close to staying home and curling up on the couch in my jammies. But I didn't. Instead, I got ready to go and see...some movie, yet to be named.

When we walked up to the box office, we still hadn't chosen a movie.

"What are we seeing?" Paul asked.

"I don't know. Pick one," I replied.

Typically, if we're in this situation, we'll end up flipping a coin or something. If we're trying to pick out a DVD to watch, Paul will put them behind his back, and I'll have to pick a hand. But this time Paul ended up making the decision (based, I assume, on some computer-programmer-logic in his head -- which occasionally comes in handy). And Walk the Line it was. We got our ticket from the cheery box office girl, who told us to enjoy the show like she actually meant it. We passed by the ticket-ripper, whose mind was obviously elsewhere. And we happily found our way to the back row of the theater.

I've got to say that I was pretty amazed by the number of people who were still coming to see Walk the Line -- after several weeks in the theater, followed by several weeks in The Cheap Theater. It's still playing four times a day, and the theater was still pretty full. That's not to say that I didn't like the movie (for a full review, see this one). I was just surprised that there were that many people who were still going to the theater to see it.

Anyway...back to the theater....

If you've ever seen the Monty Python sketches featuring the Pepper Pots, you've seen the two women who were seated across the aisle from me. In case you didn't go to Blockbuster after school and rent The Flying Circus tapes to watch with your friends, as I did, the Pepper Pots were shrill and rather roly-poly older women, played by the Pythons in drag. In one particular sketch, the ladies went to the movies, where they sat in the back of the theater and repeatedly shrieked, "OOH! ...AAH! ...WELL, I NEVAH!" to the great annoyance of everyone else in the theater.

That was almost exactly how the two women in the theater behaved. In fact, when the credits rolled, I almost expected to find that the two women were actually John Cleese and Michael Palin in disguise.

Throughout the movie, these two women (who were, in fact, shaped much like pepper pots) tittered and howled. They shrieked, "Ooh!" as if they were shocked and appalled by the grittier parts of the movie. They giggled nervously as if laughing at something amusing yet naughty. And, the rest of the time, they chattered loudly to each other.

While I enjoyed the movie itself, the Pepper Pots were, hands down, the best part. Still, though I didn't get a really good look at them, they were just a little too Mrs. Doubtfire to be real. I really wouldn't be surprised if they were actually men in old-lady drag. I have, after all, seen stranger things at The Cheap Theater...