Ages past, on some northeastern island, before I traveled any of the world beyond the shores of New Jersey and Connecticut, a group of friends decided it was movie night. And the movie decided upon was The Prince of Darkness. I don’t remember the year (google it, if you’re curious), but I do remember being one of the few with a car at the time, so it was up to me to get Wendy home (for money, I believe) and then meet up with everyone else in time to get into the theatre.
Apparently, it didn’t go quite as well as expected. We ran a little late, rushed into the theatre, got our tickets, but the lights were already down and we couldn’t find any of our friends. So Wendy and I sat somewhere, watched a film she ended up hating (she was terrified pretty much the whole way through), and she’s never spoken a word to me since. As if it was my fault the group picked that film.
The group, however, had been slightly disorganized, and only three of us (one sitting solo) made it into the right film. Everyone else went to see The Princess Bride down the hall.
Today, of course, I’ve got a DVD of The Princess Bride, which nearly everyone in the world seems able to freely quote, and which I watch perhaps once a year or so. I remember Alice Cooper appearing in The Prince of Darkness, but when I saw it again more recently, it didn’t live up to the memory of it. I remember being scared, and enjoying it, and being thrilled by the dream message things, but it didn’t work quite the same way years later, without the big screen, and without the frightened Wendy. The Princess Bride, however, stands up to time.
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