Hints and Guesses

Today was the Big Day. Last week I had the bright idea to take it off and head to Chicago in order to see movies I couldn’t get (at least right now) around here.

On the schedule were The Host, Pan’s Labyrinth, and Children of Men. The first two were at one theater, and the third was at another. I planned to eat at a Middle Eastern restaurant in between.

I got up just a little later than I should have, so I hit the road with just enough time to get there, as long as I exceeded the speed limit and didn’t make any wrong turns. I did the first exceptionally well, but I missed a turn onto North Clark and suddenly found myself on Lakeshore Drive. The lake was beautiful, but I missed the opening scene of The Host. I hate missing the first part of a movie. The last time I did that was for As Good as It Gets, and some punk theater employee wouldn’t let me stick around for the first part of the next showing. She claimed that if the theater were audited that very night, something bad would happen.

I had better luck this time. After making a quick call to hear my five-year-old niece count sweetly to twenty in French (her birthday gift to me) and picking up some lunch from a deli, I bought my ticket for Pan’s Labyrinth but headed for the first few minutes of The Host. I had a lovely lunch during Pan’s Labyrinth which would have been even lovelier had I been able to see my food while eating it.

I had counted on having enough time between the first and second theaters to eat at the Middle Eastern restaurant, but traffic and parking got in the way (every time I go to Chicago I’m reminded that I really need to learn how to parallel park). By the time I got the theater, I had twenty minutes to wait.

In the end, I should have gone to the restaurant. I re-read Children of Men a couple of weeks ago, and I am baffled as to why they chose to make this particular movie. It’s not a simple case of “the book was better than the movie.” The movie was almost entirely different than the book, except for the central premise, a couple of scenes that were reminiscent of the book, and a couple of lines of dialogue. Poor P. D. James. No amount of money could make up for this travesty. A long list of writers got a writing credit for this movie, which partially explains this train wreck. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been that hard to make a movie that was more faithful to the subtle intimacies of the original story.

I thoroughly enjoyed The Host (and not just because it was Korean), and I liked Pan’s Labyrinth. The Host was the only movie that hasn’t come here, but I missed the other two when they were here, and I really wanted to see them.

In all, however, it was a good day. I didn’t mind the driving and the weather was sunny. If I had to make one new resolution for this new year, it would be to learn how to parallel park.

(The film festival actually started Thursday evening with a local screening of Little Children. While I haven’t yet decided what I think about the movie, I will never again look at a Hummel figurine in the same way. Who knew they were so creepy?)

The festivities continue this evening with Jojo and Nacho at a restaurant I have yet to choose (Polo is on his first no-grownups road trip). There may be a movie if there is time. There will certainly be more movies tomorrow.