Despite having all this week off from school, my daughter and I have yet to go see The Secret World of Arrietty, which was the one thing I wanted to do. I’m still not exactly sure what it’s about, but if it involves little people living under the floorboards and comes from the same people that did Ponyo, then I’m all in. I can’t wait.
And yet … I am. Waiting, that is.
It’s just been one of those incredibly fun, busy weeks where we’re having too much of a good time just messing around. But the theater beckons. I can feel it. It’s calling to me, pulling at me, saying, “Over here. I have popcorn. Come sit down and take a load off.”
I love movies and used to see just about anything that showed up, when I was young and single and had a ton of time. But now, with limited time to hit the theater, I have become much more critical, only going to those I think might actually be good. And when my daughter’s involved, that critical component is multiplied to the 90th degree. I don’t want her to watch all the crap that comes out — the sequels and prequels and obvious mind-sucking money trolls catering to those who have nothing better to due than be suckered in by the promise of CGI and to hell with the story or characters.
So I was pleased to see this essay in the National Catholic Register by Steven Greydanus, talking about how amazing The Secret World of Arrietty is and how … not awesome all those three-peat sequels are.
“What possesses parents to take their kids to a third Chipmunks movie? Did the first two really instill such confidence?”
Look, it’s a small, First World Problem, I get that. And who am I to talk, considering I used to go see anything that came out? But is it possible — or even necessary? — to raise little movie buffs who demand better?
Now it’s off to the movies, because I’ve got to see if the Secret World lives up to the hype.
Photo: National Catholic Register