Going to the Moving Picture

Sunday I was out at the mall; I had to return some stuff. And while I was there, I thought, "Why not make a day of it?"

So I treated myself to lunch at the Mexican restaurant, bought myself a book at Barnes&Noble (it was in the bargain section), picked out a new vacuum cleaner at Target, and wandered around the Walgreens looking at all the weird stuff they have there (pinworm medication anyone?).

And then I got this great idea that I would go to a movie. I knew exactly which movie I wanted to see, too, but the only problem was that it was playing in only one theater, right in the Heart of The Metropolis. I'd never been to the theater, and had in fact only driven to the Heart once, and that was with Kay, on the phone, giving me turn by turn directions.

I called my dad, because he lived over there about a billion years ago, to get directions.

"Are you sure you want to go there?" he asked. "You know it's not the safest place."

"I'm sure," I said.

He gave me my directions and I drove off with far more confidence than I should have. Suffice it to say that I got to the theater on time, but not without first taking a trip to another state. Yeah, that's right. I crossed the river and headed into No Man's Land, otherwise known as West Metropolis, encountering on my journey a bridge that was shut down yesterday because it sunk four inches overnight. Good times.

The movie started at 2:40, which is right when I got there. I paid for my ticket and went to the bathroom, because that's my movie routine. I went into the theater and found it packed, which I wasn't expecting for a relatively small film. I sat down in the mid-front and settled in, ready for a good time. Only ...

Okay, I know this is not a unique complaint, but I totally hate it when commercials play before a movie starts. It's not that I have anything against materialism, per se, but the Randomville theater doesn't do this and I've gotten used to that. My main complaint about the huge number of advertisements is this: they mess up my Pee Timing.

See, I've got a bladder that looks like this: . (shown actual size)

So I have created a very precise pre-movie schedule in which I stop all liquids at least two hours before the start time, and then I go to the bathroom one minute before the movie is scheduled to begin. That is Pee Timing. But those commercials throw me all out of whack, and then I have to sit with my legs crossed AROUND MY BODY during the last hour of the film so that I don't embarrass myself.

Listed start time: 2:40
Actual start time: 2:56

You might think those sixteen minutes don't make a difference, but you would be wrong.

Anyway, the movie I saw was called Death at a Funeral. I first saw a preview for it during the summer when I saw Hot Fuzz (from the geniuses behind Shaun of the Dead) so I have been psyched to see it for a while.

It's one of those British ensemble comedies with all these fantastic actors whom I love (including Matthew McFayden, from MI-5 and Kris Marshall, from Murder City, WHOSE TALENT I ADMIRE NOT BECAUSE THEY'RE CUTE [EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE]). MM's dad dies and all sorts of hijinks ensue, including a secret gay lover, extortion, a naked man on drugs, poo, and another death.

A movie's always a thousand times better when the audience gets into it, and my audience was fantastic, laughing hysterically throughout the film.

Plus, I found out today that a teacher on my hall had been there too, but neither of us knew it, and she loved it too.

So ... there you go. Death at a Funeral. Watch it.

(but work out your Pee Timing accordingly)