It’s hard to believe that it has been thirty years since The Empire Strikes Back came out. Going to see it on opening night was one of the defining film-going moments of my childhood…and we didn’t even get in.
I was nine years old and we lived in Bolton, Massachusetts, a small suburban town without a movie theatre. Dad loaded up the whole family and we drove in to Boston to catch an evening show. There were certainly closer theatres we could have hit—Acton, Leominster, and Worcester were three of our usual go-tos at the time—but dad clearly knew that this was “An Event.” We parked in a big garage, walked to a busy downtown theatre…and got shut out about half a dozen spots before we were due to get our tickets. For some reason I don’t even remember being crushed about it, although I’m sure I was at the time. I’m not even positive when I finally did catch the movie, though I’m guessing it was on Saturday at one of those other theatres. But what I do remember is that Dad took me to Boston to see what ended up being one of the most important movies of my life.
My dad and I certainly have different movie-watching tastes. He is more discerning, and I’d guess that at this point he makes it out to a theatre maybe once a year. But he was a huge part of turning me into a movie fan as a kid, and I have vivid memories of many dad-related film experiences. We got a VCR very early on, and dad rented an additional one from the store on the same day that he came home with “Star Wars” and “Superman.” It was my first video piracy experience and nothing could have made me happier than having those two flicks at my disposal any time I wanted. This was shortly after our first video store rental experience: Dad came home with the classic (and recently reimagined) “Clash of the Titans.” My son A.J. is only three, and not quite ready for the full-on splash into big time action flicks yet, but I only hope that when the day comes he enjoys watching those kinds of movies with his dad as much as I did.
No comments:
Post a Comment