I have to say that the name of this movie is difficult to remember, much less say. I told the guy at the ticket booth that I wanted "two for Extremely" and that sufficed.
The youngsters sitting around us were too young to appreciate the flick. No idea why they came when there was a man on the ledge next door. I ended up scolding them for chatting and joking, talking on their cell phones and being generally a pain in the ass while Tom Hanks is trying to reach his son for the last time. When I look in the mirror, I don't see old and grumpy, but maybe I am. I hate being that guy, but I paid good money to see this movie. More than the money, the development of the story's mood was very important.
No doubt my aisle mates were only 3-4 years old when the Towers went down, but that's really no excuse. I can remember being moved by Tora! Tora! Tora! and Patton when they came out, and WWII was from my parents' generation, not mine. I don't recall acting like a mindless brat at the theater. When I was 6-7, yes. Oh, my God yes. But not at 14.
I guess compassion and sensitivity aren't being graded on standardized tests, and there are no good multiple choice questions that will demonstrate a student's appreciation for the human struggle. They should at least understand what it means to waste twenty bucks at the movies. If they didn't before, they know how I feel about it now. We had a momentary human struggle of our own.
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