This is the next entry in a Theatre… a Movie… and a Time, a series that was begun here. Since I am continuing my Versus AFI: 10 Top 10 arc, this time with Courtroom Dramas for February, it offers up an opportunity to chronicle a couple of them in this serial of posts. To be honest though, the paradox with this category of film is most of my tensome have only been seen by me on television, VHS, or DVD. Only two films were ever caught on the big screen. Coincidentally, they were seen in the same month, December, 10 years apart. This is the first of them.
“I changed my life today, what did you do?”
The Marina Del Rey Six:
December 1982: I recall seeing plenty of movies in this particular year. Across all kinds of films in various categories, too (no wonder author John Kenneth Muir is doing a series on this genre year). A good many of them with she-whose-name-is-not-to-be-uttered (or –mentioned or –spoken, or however I’ve previously denoted this one particular former girlfriend throughout this memoir series). It’s simply a point of fact.
Editor’s note: this is an attempt of mine to cover my rear end with my beautiful, loving, and patient wife of just about 23 years of marriage… did I happen to say she’s understanding beyond belief?
Okay, I tried. I believe it was also during the previous year, she (my old ex-girlfriend, not my wonderful spouse) and I had moved to an apartment in the neighborhood area in Culver City known as Fox Hills. When that happened, it began of a shift in our movie watching habit toward the nearby area of Marina Del Rey, via the nearby Marina Freeway. Once dubbed the Richard M. Nixon Freeway.
A freeway’s title dumped during the 70s (after the Watergate scandal, as a matter of fact), which is only about 1.5 miles long and happens to be the shortest one in the unofficial “freeway capital” of the U.S.
It was during this Christmas season not-to-be-uttered and I took in The Verdict. I don’t think it took much convincing on my part as you-know-who was well aware it starred her heart-throb Paul Newman, playing at the Marina Dey Rey Six. Besides having a compelling story, and the best performance ever by Newman in my opinion, the only other thing I recall was how mad the penultimate girlfriend of that time became afterward.
Did I mention she was a nurse by vocation? No? Okay. Was she angered by what writer David Mamet got wrong in the screenplay? Uh uh. If I remember correctly, she was rankled as a medical professional most by what the story got right.