OK, so the kids and I had our weekly Family Movie Night tonight. I have been picking the movie since we started this little ritual because A. It’s extremely difficult to find a movie that we will all like with the fairly large age/gender ranges we have and B. If I don’t pick it, there will be arguments over what we watch that last the duration that an actual movie would. For now, it works.
My pick tonight: Labyrinth. I had vague fond memories of watching it at my friend Elisabeth’s house when I was 12 and, yes, I’m now embarrassed to admit, I LOVED this movie. Come on, I was 12.
Obviously I didn’t notice how weird and strange it was at that age.
My daughters, now almost-16, were giving me looks of reproach from the opening credits, which, of course, had the obligatory 80s electronic soundtrack. When the first horrifying David Bowie song came on, we girls rolled our eyes. “Yeah, the music is bad,” I said. “It was the 80s.”
The movie was mildly entertaining, despite the poor acting (I love Jennifer Connelly in, say, A Beautiful Mind, but her performance in this movie was stilted and robotic), until David Bowie, robed in all of his Goblin King glory, broke into gratuitous cheesy song with his goblin minions.
“Uh. UH,” I said. “If I had remembered this part, I would not have watched this movie ever again just BECAUSE of this part.”
“Seriously?” said Andie. “Just because of this part?”
I looked back at the screen and Bowie’s big hair and second-skin pants. “Oh, yeah. Seriously.”
From that point on, it went screaming downhill. We could not, nor did we ever, figure out the name of the big, hairy Muppet that Jennifer Connelly saved from the mob of biting stick wielders. Was it Luto? Bluto? Pluto? Gluto? We kept hearing all of these names. Even Jennifer herself didn’t seem to know. By the time Bowie showed up again with things ever so, um, NOT discreetly framed (did I mention the second-skin pants?), it was officially a 0-star in my personal movie world. And when, toward the end, he told the teenage Jennifer that all she had to do was “let me rule you,” I think I threw up a little. Ewww.
At the end, when the Muppet-esque weirdos showed up in Jennifer’s bedroom and they engaged in some unnatural, giant hug fest on her bed, I simply said, “I’m really sorry,” to the room in general.
“What? I LOVED it!” said Logan.
Evidently this movie’s suckage factor is in proportion to the viewer’s age.