A Night at the Movies

I remember that a few weeks ago a discussion was opened on CNN about whether or not late-night movies were appropriate for young children.  There were some who said that kids will sleep through it anyway, but the majority couldn't believe that children would be kept up "way past their bedtimes", "disturbing their natural sleep cycles". The reason I bring this up is because I can't help but imagine, with no little amusement, what these people would say upon realizing that the one showing of "We Bought a Zoo" (a children's movie) begins at nine-thirty.

Regardless of these people's good intentions, and my useless tangents, we set off at about 9:20 to purchase tickets. Fortunately, as those who followed our previous adventure may remember, my mother had already been through this process and as a result had some idea of what to do in what would otherwise have been a rather baffling experience. With her guidance we trekked all of two blocks to what looked for all the world like the back door to a house, and Florence walked up the steps to see if the door was unlocked. It wasn't.

So we went around the corner and down the block to the other entrance. There we met the ticket agent, sitting at a little table, who happily sold us the tickets and sat back looking pleased with herself. After a moment's hesitation, my mother inquired as to which direction we should walk, and the agent waved us through an open doorway on her left.
Walking through one room to the theater, we discovered a beautiful open-air courtyard not unlike ours. Laundry was hanging from one of the windows, and another was brightly lit. It was clear, however, that we had reached our destination; fold-up chairs were arranged in rows on the gravel and a large screen was hanging from one of the walls, directly above some steps and a sort of stage. After a deal of searching on my part, and pointing on Jeremy's, I sighted the projector hanging on the wall behind us. It was running reels.

At about 9:40 a man marched towards the projector, keys jangling, and started the movie. The picture was ever so slightly blurry, and there were little flashes and spots here and there due to impurities on the reel, but other than that the quality was excellent.

I did mention that this was an open-air theater, didn't I? Every so often, little distractions would present themselves, such as the stars twinkling a little too much or a young child gleefully picking a flower for her mother. We were most amused, however, when a cat decided to walk across the stage, directly in front of the screen. After a minute or so he lay down and we figured that was the end of it. Not so, for another cat was foolish enough to enter the picture, quite literally. Cat #1 stiffened, and Cat #2 pounced, and every eye in the theater was turned on them as they worked out their disagreement in a rather violent but entirely silent manner. After about three minutes, they reached a conclusion and parted, but thereafter the victor remained in the spotlight and the hapless loser wandered among the audience members as if to reconcile himself to them.

The scene finished, and the word "intervallo" appeared on the screen. I got up to stretch my legs-- I'd been sitting for all of an hour!-- and discovered to my astonishment a concessions stand in the adjacent courtyard. It consisted of a plastic table, a freezer, and a cooler. They sold a few drinks, popcorn, ice cream sandwiches, and Kit-Kats. That's it.

After purchasing a couple of waters, my dad and I headed back, just in time to see the "intervallo" sign disappear and the movie start again, as though there had been absolutely no interruption. By and by, the movie finished (at about 11:45) and we went on our way, led out of the theater by some poor children whose natural sleep cycles had been quite disrupted.

Eleanor