This is the next entry in a Theatre… a Movie… and a Time, a series that was begun here. In staying with the unexpected film theme I find myself in this week, I offer up another related post for a certain 2004 Michael Mann work.
“Did you join Amnesty International, Oxfam, Save the Whales, Greenpeace, or something? No. I off one fat Angeleno and you throw a hissy fit.”
August 8, 2004: some years ago, my long-time friend and work colleague suggested we getaway after a round of golf to see a movie together, one our wives had no interest whatsoever in watching. We’ve routinely repeated this practice to this very day, at least once a summer. As stated, this implementation of a ‘guys gone golf & movie-going’ includes cinema fare our spouses, in unison, customarily respond to when invited:
“No, you go.”
Not surprisingly, these have included loud, explosion-filled summer blockbusters, R-rated comedies and horror film, or gun-toting thrillers of all sorts. What can I say but, “¿Quien es mas macho?”
Director Michael Mann’s return to the urban crime genre in the decade of the 00s with the stellar Collateral, itself another work of his laid out across the L.A. sprawl the two of us know only too well, turned out to be one of those films. For the sole reason that we played the links in the South Bay area of Los Angeles on that particular Sunday, we struck out to the nearby AMC Rolling Hills 20 cineplex. Turned out to be the first of only two times I ever visited this cineplex. It’s become a standard for the utilitarian stadium seat movie theaters in that part of town. More’s the pity.
However, the film was exactly to our Y-chromosome expectations. And each year since, we’ve only sought to find similar experiences. I think our wives coin it as “testosterone poisoning“. Go figure.