In Which I Review The Movie "Rent"
I went to see the rock-opera "Rent" tonight. It was my payback to Melissa for her sitting through "Walk The Line" last week.
I had a really difficult time entering the theater. Even though the concession stand prices are outrageous, even though we paid $8.75 a piece to get in and bought a $3.50 "junior" sized popcorn, and even though absolutely everyone on the face of God's good earth does it, I still feel like scum for sneaking cans of soda into the theater. I can just feel the accusing eyes of the nineteen-year-old minimum wage earner as he stands there and tears my ticket. I just know he can see the aluminum can-shaped bulge in the interior breast pocket of my ski jacket. It's not worth his time to single me out, but oh yes, he knows.
The guilt makes it very difficult for me to just crack the can open, even in a darkened theater. The noise of a pop-top soda can is a dead giveaway. Not that anyone is going to stand up and make a citizen's arrest or anything, but they'll know, they'll all KNOW, don't you see? Often I have listened with envy as a fellow smuggler has popped open his contraband can with reckless abandon, obviously secure in the knowledge that no one in the theater cares that he is putting himself above the rules. Oh how freeing such confidence would be. As a strategy this devil-may-care style of opening up your illegal soda can doesn't do much to hide the crime, but it is at least better than the tortuous, guilt-wracked method of trying to open the can slowly, carefully, one creaking and aluminum-twisting millimeter at a time. I often hear it in the darkness. This slow-motion method, employed in the hope of making the sound less noticeable, only succeeds in making the noise of the top being popped that much more painfully audible for a much longer period of time, turning the ill-gotten soda into a veritable telltale aluminum heart.
No, the only method that I am truly comfortable with is the ever-popular "wait until the crescendo of the always overly-loud coming attraction, then dive into your dirty filthy business under the cover of crushing waves of sound and get it done as quickly as possible" method. And yet, even when I am sure that no one but me and my better half is aware of my crime, the cool, reasonably priced carbonated beverage offers no real comfort. Verily, the taste is as ash upon my tongue. No, my conscience just won't let me enjoy my forbidden Diet Coke. Such is the dilemma of the moral man.
Oh, the movie "Rent?" It sucked.
I had a really difficult time entering the theater. Even though the concession stand prices are outrageous, even though we paid $8.75 a piece to get in and bought a $3.50 "junior" sized popcorn, and even though absolutely everyone on the face of God's good earth does it, I still feel like scum for sneaking cans of soda into the theater. I can just feel the accusing eyes of the nineteen-year-old minimum wage earner as he stands there and tears my ticket. I just know he can see the aluminum can-shaped bulge in the interior breast pocket of my ski jacket. It's not worth his time to single me out, but oh yes, he knows.
The guilt makes it very difficult for me to just crack the can open, even in a darkened theater. The noise of a pop-top soda can is a dead giveaway. Not that anyone is going to stand up and make a citizen's arrest or anything, but they'll know, they'll all KNOW, don't you see? Often I have listened with envy as a fellow smuggler has popped open his contraband can with reckless abandon, obviously secure in the knowledge that no one in the theater cares that he is putting himself above the rules. Oh how freeing such confidence would be. As a strategy this devil-may-care style of opening up your illegal soda can doesn't do much to hide the crime, but it is at least better than the tortuous, guilt-wracked method of trying to open the can slowly, carefully, one creaking and aluminum-twisting millimeter at a time. I often hear it in the darkness. This slow-motion method, employed in the hope of making the sound less noticeable, only succeeds in making the noise of the top being popped that much more painfully audible for a much longer period of time, turning the ill-gotten soda into a veritable telltale aluminum heart.
No, the only method that I am truly comfortable with is the ever-popular "wait until the crescendo of the always overly-loud coming attraction, then dive into your dirty filthy business under the cover of crushing waves of sound and get it done as quickly as possible" method. And yet, even when I am sure that no one but me and my better half is aware of my crime, the cool, reasonably priced carbonated beverage offers no real comfort. Verily, the taste is as ash upon my tongue. No, my conscience just won't let me enjoy my forbidden Diet Coke. Such is the dilemma of the moral man.
Oh, the movie "Rent?" It sucked.
posted by Yukon Sully | 11:19 PM
5 Comments:
Fact of the matter is no 16 year old kid getting paid minimum wage is going to attack you for your contraband soda, they barely point you in the direction of your movie. Hell, I’ve seen people being in full meals from McDonalds, in plain sight, without a word mentioned, so open in load and proud…Also, I would rather lick the floor of the movie theater then see "Rent".
I don't know why you disliked rent. It had great plot lines.
Yeah, you're right. And what an amazing dream world the movie creates, where the only crimes are getting a job and earning a living, and the greatest thing a person can do in life is sit around, mock people who work, and make bad art.
I have a large purse that I use only when I go to movies. In it I can fit my bike's small water bottle, which I fill with a wine cooler. I don't feel guilty about doing this, although I do hide it, because they don't serve my beverage of choice at the theater, and I never become an obnoxious drunk or leave garbage on the floor.
Yukon, does the world know that your sister was in the opening shot of "Rent," the one with the flaming pieces of paper coming out of every window in an apartment building? And yet you say it sucked??? She would never do the same to you.
My sister was in the opening scene, although we're going to have to wait until the DVD comes out and we can freeze-frame it to find her. As for my criticism of the movie, I think that as an artist she can appreciate the fact that I can be supportive of her work individually and yet I can dislike a movie she's in. At least I hope so.
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