Well, although I had a wonderful time today, going to a movie matinee at 1 p.m. on a Tuesday afternoon, I stuck myself with a real dog, "The Hills Have Eyes," part II, if you can believe that. I stopped at a great coffee shop to get some studying done before the movie, and I wasn't sure what was playing at the Western Avenue theater. They have a $5 feature and small popcorn day each Tuesday (though they've eliminated the free parking, so I had to pay $2 for that...), which was my reason for going there today. So after I finished some great coffee and cranberry scone at a cute place called Ipsento Coffee, I headed up Western to see what movies would be playing around noon. The pickin's were pretty slim, and the only 12:30 p.m. was of 300, which Trevor and I had seen (and loved!) a few weeks ago. So I decided to wait until the 1 p.m. of "The Hills Have Eyes, II" after eliminating "I Think I Love My Wife" (which got bad reviews) and something called "Pride" which I didn't know anything about.

So I waited for about forty minutes, eating my free popcorn and reading up on Writing Across the Curriculum. I even splurged on a wild cherry icee; they offered free refills but I didn't take them up on it. Although I hadn't seen the remake of "The Hills Have Eyes" which came out last year (or the year before?), I'd seen the original Wes Craven movie, which is quite good. I had the feeling that this wouldn't be much more than an over-the-top bloodbath, and I was right! Gratuitous gore, axe-wielding mutations, and a none-too-subtle political message that maybe war is sometimes necessary after all, makeshift bayonets and nuclear freaks aside.

But it stunk. Sewer-worth stink. The cast was nicely diverse, but the pretty blonde soldier still ended up in a tank-top after twenty minutes of the movie (though it could have been a mid-drift tank-top and it wasn't). It opened with a tortured and bound woman giving birth to a still-born mutated baby, and getting killed for it by the mutators who'd impregnated her. That tipped me off that I might be in for a doozy. Aside from a few good jump-in-your-seat startlers, it was wholly disappointing. The bad guys were just bad, though there was a token kind-soul mutation (though he was still a cannibal) who jumped in to help out the group, then disappeared. And if the remake was supposed to have "toned down" the original's rape scene (as rumor had it), this sequel sure tried hard to out-do it. And I just won't say anything more about that.

What I can say is that the script wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been; there weren't any awful comebacks or tough-guy throwaway lines, and there easily could have been a script full of them for a movie like this. And the nicely diverse cast was a plus, although the two black soldiers were killed (though they were both commanding officers) and the hot-headed Latino blew himself up, and we ended up with the blonde in a tank-top, the pacifist-turned-First-Blood, and the Latina rape victim (of course it wouldn't have been the blonde...). But I've seen worse movies, and I've even seen worse movies in the theater. At least this one is laughably bad.

The best thing about the movie wasn't the film itself, it was the audience. I guess that Tuesday afternoon is a likely draw for the over seventy set, but I was surprised to see a lot of grandparently types at a grind-house horror movie. As we all left the theater, I walked behind a seventy-something woman chuckling about the awfulness of the movie to a dapper fellow in a nice, blue-striped suit, french cuffs and cuff links, and sporting a wooden cane that I suspected might have been a tad more fashion accessory than necessity. He agreed that the film was a stinker (though he was much more elegant than that), then tottered off down Western Avenue.

All in all, it was a very pleasant morning and afternoon, and once I got home Henry and I beat the rain and got some quick fetching done at the park (without the police surveillance this time). More to come!

Bork Power!