365 True Things: 68/Movies

I like going to the movies. I like the big screen. I like the big sound. Certain movies really need to be on the big screen. Don't you think?

But I do not like going when everyone else goes. I always choose a weekday matinee. For one thing, it's cheaper. For another, you might have to put up with only three or four other popcorn crunchers. On the rarest of occasions, like after a movie has played awhile but is not quite in its last week, I am the only person in the theater. That, I love.

I do not buy movie theater food. It's a ripoff, and not good for you. I go for the movie alone.

Today, I saw Mad Max: Fury Road. You who know me might consider that an odd choice. And I suppose it is. But I liked the Mel Gibson movies back in the day, their wildness, and I was intrigued by Anthony Lane's review in the New Yorker of this newest installment. I usually trust Anthony Lane (except when it comes to comedy). And now, after having seen the movie, I've reread the review and I think it's right on.

Partway through the movie there is a snatch of, I think it was Wagner. And I was jolted: Yes, this movie is operatic! The story line is so simple, but so much happens, with so much drama—and so much feeling. And the bad guys are really really awfully evilly bad. So the good guys really have to win. And they do.

That's my kind of opera.

Or, on this occasion, movie.