Not until you pry it ‘from my cold, dead hands’
Our Rating: 1 Star
Recently deceased actor Charlton Heston and I have few things in common, most notably his famous “from my cold, dead hands” quote.
Heston was, of course, speaking of the rifle he held proudly in his outstretched hand.
I quoted him when I told then-Plainsman editor Niki “Crash” Doyle I would be taking the movie review with me when I was kicked upstairs to my current position, Opinions Editor.
She let me keep it, partly because I think killing me could have been problematic for her.
Maybe not; I don’t know. Ask her.
This review has been like a child to me since October 2005.
I was a volunteer for the Intrigue section when overheard them arguing one Wednesday evening about who had to do the review that week. It was a pain to all of them, and they really didn’t enjoy doing it.
Truth be told, I can’t really write anything without giving my opinion, so I jumped up and offered to do the review that week. The Intrigue Editor, Matt Strother, laughed and said “OK, but you have to review ‘March of the Penguins’.”
I went to the movie, fell asleep halfway through and wrote a scathing review of that film.
Truth be told, I think my career peaked that first week.
I’ve been told there was more hate mail about that review than there was about anything else that year.
There were meetings between Intrigue and Editor April Love (now April Love Booth) about whether I should be able to write for the paper any more.
Thankfully, April Love Booth was a kind and benevolent leader, or this writing certainly would not be here today.
It’s been a long two and a half years since then, and this review has been one of the great joys of my college career.
After all, it gave me an excuse to go to the movies every week.
This is my final chance to talk about movies in this paper, so I want to thank a few folks who were with me in the theater over the years.
First and foremost, I suppose I should finally out the identity of Amber, my constant movie-going companion.
I slyly gave her the code name of “Amber,” but in actuality, her true name is, in fact, Amber Harris.
Clever, I know. I’m certain you were all searching for some crazy girl with no last name, as if she were a Cher or a Bono.
Amber, thank you for allowing me to drag you to movies you hated week after week.
Thank you for putting up with me when you dragged me to movies I hated.
Those outings with you were the reason why Sundays were always my favorite day of the week.
I highly value your wonderful friendship, and I shall greatly miss our afternoon outings.
Any time I had to see a movie targeted at 18 to 24-year-old males, I knew my 73-year-old soul wouldn’t be the best judge of these films.
Many thanks to former SGA Vice President Matthew James Ulmer for being my focus group for the frat films, especially during “Superbad,” a film we both agreed was awful.
Amy Gordon, you got me started at this paper, and for that I am eternally grateful. Words cannot express what your friendship has meant to me.
Kendra Carter, I don’t know how you talked me into seeing the “Hannah Montana” movie, but that review, the “lost” review, was probably the best one I’ve ever written, and that experience will not be soon forgotten.
Auburn, I hope you’ve enjoyed my odd ramblings.
I don’t really care if you did, but I’d like to think some of you actually enjoyed them.
Kevin Saucier will be taking over this space now, and I wish him the best of luck.
He’s a great guy, and I have the highest faith in his abilities to sit in an uncomfortable chair, eat popcorn and watch a film.
Thanks for your time, Auburn, and go enjoy the shows.
