When I was 3-years old my mother took me to the movies to see One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. That might make one question her parenting skills, but in her defense it was the 70’s, she really wanted to see the movie and she assumed I’d be asleep within the first 10 minutes. She was wrong. I watched the whole movie on the edge of my seat, panicked every time Nurse Ratchet came on the screen. Although my feet didn’t touch the floor, I was emotionally long enough to burst into tears when Chief met his fate. My love of cinema was born…
I went on to absorb movies, developing obsessions with the works of John Hughes and Spike Lee. In college I watched Casablanca over and over like a prisoner reads Bible scriptures. I screamed like they called my name when Silence of the Lambs won the Best Picture Oscar, and when I found out that film critic Gene Siskel died, I started sobbing as if we were related.
So I was kind of disturbed by the advice my uncle gave me about having kids: “See as many movies as you can before you have the baby because after kids, you’ll rarely get to see movies.” Beg your pardon? I won’t get to see movies? I know kids change your lifestyle, but come on! My uncle was an “older” first time parent, so I assumed he was way off base. You know what they say about making assumptions…
Unless Pixar or DreamWorks Animation made it, I can count on one hand how many movies with an R rating I’ve seen in the last 5 years. Two hands for PG-13 movies. I use to have a knack for quoting all the movie classics. Now I can recite all of Mater’s lines from Cars and I’ve kind of perfected Dory’s voice from Nemo. Hours have been spent dissecting the character structure of Horton Hears a Who. I crack up when Chubba starts dancing to “I Like to Move It” at the beginning of Act Two in Madagascar and Snickiedoo has perfected Marty’s “That was Crack-a-lackin!” Thanks for that one Chris Rock.
But out of all of the animated DVD’s that line our shelves, there is nothing I love as much as the Toy Story trilogy. It has all the makings of a great American classic. How could a movie about a stuttering king top this masterpiece? Maybe I’m just out of touch…
I had the opening date of Toy Story 3 marked on my calendar for months. I wasn’t sure of it was my son or me who was more excited to catch up with Buzz and the gang. When the toys were in peril during the last scenes, Snickiedoo reached for my hand with a look of anxiety across his face. I smiled, wondering if this was his One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest moment. Sheriff Woody is no Chief, but I did cry just the same when Molly tried to take him from Andy. And that Lotso and Nurse Ratchet have a whole lot in common…
6ouncesofsanity 