I am not a great person to see films with. I'm fine to sit next to in the cinema if you don't know me, but if you're the person who came to see the film with me and I don't like it, then woe betide you. My ex nearly strangled me during Signs
(stupidest aliens on this or any other planet, and was that supposed to be a storyline?) and Matrix Reloaded
(insert your own reason for suckiness here - it's not like there aren't enough to go round). My father still speaks in anguished tones of the time he took me to see Care Bears: The Movie
when I was four or five, because I'd wanted to see Return of the Jedi
but was in hospital for an operation when the cinema was showing it, and of how I complained all. The. Way. Through. Very, very loudly.
This is a bad habit. I know that, and I feel truly sorry for anyone who tries to sit through a film I don't like with me, and these days I try my best to stay quiet and sit still until the credits start rolling. It's an effort, though.
And with that in mind, I have no idea whatsoever why two of my supposed best friends decided we should all go and see Van Helsing
last weekend, when both of them knew and freely admitted I was going to hate it. Obviously, they thought it was a good sign that I adored the LOTR films and didn't complain about the changes from canon (well, mostly, mumblemumblegrumpy!Elrondmumblemumble).
But I was good, and I didn't complain a tiny bit during the film itself. Only now I have all this grumbling worked out, and nowhere to grumble it. So...( lj-cut for spoilers, none of which aren't entirely predictable from the first eight minutes of the film anyway, but still )