Confessions
Last week, I went to see "Flyboys" with my two sons. We all thoroughly enjoyed the movie. My kids were surprised to find that I'd rated the movie a D+.
"I thought you liked it," my 14-year-old son Eli said.
There was a sense of betrayal in his tone.
OK, here's the deal. I love movies. I love good movies. I love bad movies. I had fun at "Battleship Earth," for heaven sake. I've even had fun sitting in a theater with nobody but a bunch of other film critics.
But I especially like going out to the movies with my family.
Even though I'm a critic, I don't watch movies with analytical detachment. I try to enjoy every movie as much as I can, and sitting there with my family and a bunch of popcorn, the odds are good I will.
It's only afterward, when I'm trying to compose my review, that I kick in my inner-critic. Then, I ask myself if I enjoyed it as much as I wanted to, and, if not, why not. I try to give readers the take on the movie that I would have liked a critic to give me.
I think that's a fair way to do it. I may be a critic, but that doesn't mean I'll sacrifice having a great time at the movies with my family.
1 Comments:
I can identify with your love of movies, especially movies you watch with your family. I will watch just about any movie with my sons, aged 14, 16, 19, and 21; however, like you, the "inner critic kicks in" after the viewing and the immediate response sharing. Like your son Eli, my sons express surprise with my later, more analytical and certainly more critical evaluations. Still, they understand (or maybe just chalk up my criticism as typical "momthink") and we still enjoy movies together.
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