The Moviegoer

I've been a moviegoer for as long as I can remember--and, yes, I've read Walker Percy's 1961 novel with that title: The Moviegoer. In Enid, Oklahoma, where I grew up, there were four movie theaters downtown (each with a single screen, by the way--multiplexes were an unimaginable heaven in the future) and two drive-ins (I remember seeing Brigadoon once--and the Disney cartoon of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow). My family went now and then; I liked to go on Saturday morning, when, for two Royal Crown bottlecaps (easily acquired in the unpaved parking lot at the J & J Grocery near our home) and a dime (nickel?) I could sit in the theater all morning on Saturday and see cartoons, the news-of-the-week (here's a link to an old one, if you want to check it out), a serial, a cowboy movie (the best kind, of course). And ... Coke, Snickers, popcorn, etc.

The movies were among the very few air-conditioned spots in Enid--and how about that great experience, afterward, of walking out into the sun and having your visual purple destroyed! (Oh, it's so bright out here!)

When we moved to Hiram, Ohio, it was a little sadder: Hiram College had a Sunday movie night (which I virtually never missed). The cost was 40 cents for adults, 15 for kids. The college screened recent Hollywood films; otherwise, the nearest theaters were in Ravenna and Kent (each a half-hour or so); the nearest drive-in, the Midway, between Kent and Ravenna (where I saw lots of films, including The Incredible Shrinking Man).

When I got married in late 1969, I found in Joyce an eager movie-going partner. On our honeymoon, in fact, we saw the latest James Bond film (On Her Majesty's Secret Service), a film which ends with the murder of Bond's new bride (played by Diana Rigg). (Not a good honeymoon choice.) Link to film trailer. Oh, Playing Bond (for the first and only time): George Lazenby.

Anyway, we went to movies all the time, and when our son was born, we were soon taking him along; he loved it from the git-go. And he would, in fact, cry when the films ended.

Time marched on, and Joyce and I continued going to films all the time--at least once a week, sometimes more (especially in the summer, those delightful days when There Were No Papers to Grade).

We frequently drove 45 min (or so) up to Cleveland Heights to the Cedar-Lee, which still is the best somewhat-nearby venue for independent and foreign films.

But ... Time Marched On. Health became an issue. We didn't go as often ...

Since July 6 this year we have seen only four films: Rocketman, Booksmart, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, and Ad Astra.

But only part of this has been due to health and energy. The main reason is this: There's just not a lot out there that we want to see.

Horror and superhero films, cartoons, naughty teenagers doing and saying naughty things, wildly violent films--these and similar genre just don't interest us anymore. Nor do the endless Star Wars sequels, though we might go see the one that's already being advertised: The Rise of Skywalker.

We took our young son to see the first Star Wars in the summer of 1977 (the summer he turned five)--and he has ever since been as addict to the series, as his sons now are.

So it's not as if Joyce and I are anti-video. Or snobs. We're not. We stream bits of shows each night, about an hour before Lights Out (won't tell you when that is: too embarrassing ... okay, it's 8:30), and we really enjoy the ones we've been watching: Line of Duty, Waking the Dead, Elementary, Doc Martin, Luther, etc.

But now, it seems, the movies are not exactly aimed at our demographic, and I understand now why my parents rarely went as they grew older. It wasn't because they were boring; no, it was because they were bored. And they could tell the films were not for them.