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Wednesday, December 18, 2002 Well, I hadn't planned any adventures when the day began, but this afternoon around a quarter to five I found myself suddenly smitten with the impulse to run out the door and down to the city center where I would try and weasel my way into the first Madrid-area showing of Lord of The Rings Round II. Got to the theater a few minutes after 5. Walked in, picked up a ticket -- no wait, price around $5.50. The theater was at 75% capacity when I sauntered in and picked up a second-row-center seat. (If I'd had my druthers I would have chosen the third or fourth rows, but they were jammed and I had the feeling I would have no success trying to persuade someone to vacate.) Sat myself down, sharing the row with one other person -- a college guy (Tulane U., New Orleans) of Indian descent two seats to my right. We co-existed peacefully, watching LOTR fanatics drift in and fill the rest of the theater. Off toward the rear of the space, a group of knuckleheads in jury-rigged hooded capes, wielding aluminum-foil swords and hobby-horses (I am not making that last detail up), chased each other around the theater in loud, flailing bouts of pre-film human-versus-orc warfare. A couple sat to my left, two American 30-somethings. Nice folks. Other people slowly dropped into nearby vacant seats until they were suddenly filled with humans, mostly college-age. In fact, far as I could tell I may have been the only 40-something in a theater weighted heavily toward the 20-something range. This happens a lot. I suspect my tastes are far younger than those of what some might call my, er, peers. The lights dimmed, the pre-film publicidad commenced. Ten or so minutes of ads, a heavy percentage of them shilling perfumes/colognes, this being the season to be jolly and wave your credit card around. Man, there are some terrible ads being inflicted on the general public over here. A few entertaining ones and a whole poopload of awful ones. And finally the film began. The verdict: it beats the pants off Harry P. #2. (Or would that be considered some particularly perverse form of pederasty?) In my humble, ignorant opinion, anyway. For what it's worth, please keep in mind this judgment is coming from someone who loves the Harry P. books (and just a bought a copy of H.P. #4 in Spanish). A genuinely Intense film. Epic in its sweep, in an immensely positive way -- you laugh, you cry, etc. -- building up to a long, astonishing rendering of the major battle scene that winds up book two of the trilogy. My only real reservation: I wish there were more women in the story, women in strong roles. LOTR Part I had enough major female characters to create more of what felt to me like a balance. I felt the lack in this one. I know this simply reflects the original text, which in turn reflects its time, so what are you gonna do? But there it is. I like women. In fact, I love women. Life is much more fun, I think, much more satisfying, when they're a solid 50% of the mix. Apart from that, this is my choice for the season's hot film ticket. Major body count, by the way. The final standings: elves -- quite a few dead; humans -- many hundreds, maybe thousands dead; orcs and other nasty, misshapen nonhumans -- thousands and thousands and thousands dead. After the film, as I sat and watched some of the longest credits in history, the male of the American couple next to me got up and took off, leaving the woman, who got a call on her cell phone and began speaking excellent Spanish. Reminded me all over again how sexy Spanish can sound when it's coming from a member of the female persuasion. Once her call was done, she also took off, leaving me and the credits, which took their sweet time finishing up. When they did, I pulled my coat on and headed toward the little boys room, which is located at the back of this theater. Standing near the door stood the American couple who had been my neighbors for the last three hours, deep in conversation with my friend David, one of the only Americans I know here in Madrid. Damn, it's a small world. ************************** Christmas entertainment, unearthed from my e-mail archives: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (Noo Yawk Style) 'Twas the night before Christmas, Da whole house was mellow, Not a creature was stirrin', I had a gun under my pillow. When up on da roof I heard somethin' pound, I sprung to da window To scream, "YO! KEEP IT DOWN!" When what to my Wanderin' eyes should appear But dat hairy elf Nickie And eight friggin' reindeer. Wit' a bad hackin' cough An' da stencha burped beer, I knew in a moment, Yo, da Kringle wuz here! Wit' a slap to dere snouts An' a yank on dere manes, He cursed and he shouted An' he called dem by name: "Yo, Tony! Yo, Frankie! Yo, Sally! Yo, Vito! Ay, Joey! Ay, Paulie! Ay, Pepe! Ay, Guido!" As I drew out my gun An' hid by da bed, Down came his friggin' boot On da top of my head. His eyes were all bloodshot, His b.o. was scary, His breath was like sewage, He had a mole dat wuz hairy. He spit in my eye An' he twisted my head, He soon let me know I should consider myself dead. Den pointin' a fat finga Right under my nose, He let out some gas An' up da chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, Obscenities screaming, An' away dey all flew, 'Fore he troo dem a beatin'. An' I heard him exclaim, Or better yet grump, "Merry Christmas to all, An' bite me, ya hump!" rws 4:45 PM [+]
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