Fresh Eyes

My dad once told me that he went to see E.T. in theaters knowing nothing about it.  He’d maybe seen a poster once.  Then the movie was all new to him, he got to see it with fresh eyes.

Just one of my many quirks is my manic, obsessive tendency to turn something as simple as watching movies into a ceremonial life event.  My dad did this with me and the classics like Citizen Kane and On the Waterfront.  He made sure the atmosphere was just right when I watched the Grapes of Wrath for the first time, when I finally heard Henry Fonda speak Steinbeck’s poetic words about the human soul.

For some reason my brain sponges up stories (and my reactions to them) better than just about anything else.  I remember the stoic, blown away, contemplative, almost reverent silence in the car on the way home as my brothers and I digested what we had just witnessed (The Dark Knight).  I remember when my wife started rejoicing that I was actually crying for once as we watched Schindler’s List til 3am on New Years.  I remember begging my dad to take me home when the Cave of Wonders roared to life at the beginning of Aladdin. 

I could blame it on my dad majoring in film and theatre.  I could say it’s just one of my myriad quirks and compulsions.  I’m not here to diagnose.  Suffice it to say:

Movies are memories and memories are movies in my mind.

I take this stuff way too seriously.  I realize that.  But there is an etiquette, a protocol that I follow when it comes to partaking of Hollywood's spectacles: 

Some trailers are trailers, but most trailers are spoilers. 

If it’s gonna be good, don’t watch too much prematurely or it’ll ruin the experience.  This has served me well in the past.  I didn’t know about Yoda’s crazy surprise flippage in Episode II until I saw it on the big screen.  I didn’t know about the army of metallic suits flying into battle in Iron Man 3 because of a commercial, I experienced it firsthand.  If I’m excited enough about a movie, I’ll plug my ears, shut my eyes and murmur to myself IN THE THEATER to avoid spoilers. (this has happened for the second Hobbit movie coming out this winter and B. won't forgive my freakish ways)

Now I realize this can backfire, and it has: Green Lantern, Spider Man 3, Snow White and the Huntsman, the latest attempt at The Three Musketeers with Logan Lerman.

But I stick to my protocol.

And now, after a year of waiting.

I have seen only one trailer. (which revealed nothing – thank you Mr. Nolan for your discretion)

I haven’t been able to escape the posters and promos. 

I’ve looked away from commercials and avoided more revealing trailers like the plague.

And now.

At long last.

We’re going to Man of Steel!

I am so ready.  Superman was always my favorite growing up, because he’s what I want to be.  He’s the moral backbone of manhood, defending truth, justice and the American way with an innocent simplicity that is oh so rare in any hero, fictional or non.  

Plus, growing up, I liked that we have the same first initial.

Some accuse the spit-curled alien clad in red underwear (although not this time!) as emotionally unapproachable and too perfect.  They berate him as a glorified Boy Scout, nothing more.  Some say his skewed value system is out of date and out of touch.  Others complain that the franchise is fraught with Judeo-Christian themes and images (the whole "Savior of the World" motif).

I’m glad my childhood hero is still celebrated.  I’m glad that something as ridiculous as a man from another planet in blue tights and a red cape flying around saving us is still globally recognizable by the big red “S” on his chest.

I’m glad I share his initial.

I’m excited to see my hero with fresh eyes.

Just please let it not suck...

Please Nolan...

S