A Night in Sin City

I went to see Sin City at the theater last weekend with Shawn, Eoin and Elizabeth (see her account here). It's always nice to have a night out without the kids and I did have a good time. No really, I did. Even though I cried, shook uncontrollably, and walked out of the movie. The last time I felt that disturbed at the theater was after I watched Silence of the Lambs.

But, it was a night out afterall. We did have drinks before at Don Pablos. We had popcorn and sodas. And we got to see the trailer for Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, which looks rad, by the way. Eoin and Shawn were trying to convince me that this movie was going to be good. I believe they even used the argument that it was like Pulp Fiction, only better, because it was based on a comic book. "Whee!" I responded in mock glee.

I was really trying to be a good sport about the whole thing. I knew the men's will to see this movie was too strong to bend towards another movie, say, Hitch. Afterall, anything comic book-driven is manna from heaven for these two. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I enjoy comic book capers as well. So I tried to embrace the artistry of the movie and disregard the corn of the omnipresent voice-over.

Alas, the subject matter was too strong for me. I don't even want to get into it because typing the words makes me want to cry. But any story involving harming a child makes me insane with sorrow and rage. It is not fair game for a plot device, as far as I'm concerned (yeah, I'm talking to you too, Oprah's book club). A high level of suffering of the innocent is not necessarily a hallmark of a quality story.

All the women in the story were prostitutes/dancers/waitresses and scantily clad. They were also ridiculously blood-thirsty. One was even called a Valkyrie Warrior Woman in voice over by her male love interest. Ick. I don't know if it was empowering or degrading. But by the time they showed up, I was too numb to have any feelings of feminist outrage.

I wanted to leave the theater. I left for a bathroom break and took as long as possible. I even dried my hands completely with the hand dryer. But the movie was still going. Then I sat there and tried to cover my eyes and ears and think about Colin Firth. Finally, I just whispered to Shawn that I was going to get the car and I'd meet them out front. It really was the best decision. I had a chance to get my bearings as I walked to the car in the early April snowstorm.

And then, the whole way home, Elizabeth and I got to torment them about how we would exact our revenge for this movie. We talked of many options, but I think my favorite was, "Aren't the Idols coming to town this summer?"