Chick flicks aren’t a must-see for males, unless she says they
are
It has been nearly 20 years since my wife and I started dating.
During that time, as many men do, I have learned that sometimes a
guy needs to put pride aside and go see a chick flick
– a movie with obvious appeal for the fairer sex.
Chick flicks aren’t a must-see for males, unless she says they are
It has been nearly 20 years since my wife and I started dating. During that time, as many men do, I have learned that sometimes a guy needs to put pride aside and go see a chick flick – a movie with obvious appeal for the fairer sex.
Men know that by doing this, we can later convince our significant other to go see a guy movie (definition: crude humor, lots of explosions, or both if we’re lucky.) Or, if we’re lucky, perhaps we’ll be granted complete – if temporary – control of the remote control for the good TV when we get home after watching the chick flick.
The movie “New Moon,” the sequel to “Twilight,” is one of those movies that I knew would be a chick flick. The teenage girls at San Benito High School have been wearing their Team Jacob or Team Edward shirts and many of them camped out for hours last Thursday night just to get a ticket and a good seat for the midnight premiere of the movie.
Armed with this knowledge, I still agreed to accompany my wife to a Sunday matinee of “New Moon” this past weekend, even though it conflicted with the end of the 49ers’ game. I made this decision for various reasons: first, the Niners are frustrating to watch, so getting away from the TV was a good idea; second, I actually like hanging out with my wife; and third, I got roped into watching “Twilight” last year so I figured I might as well check out the sequel to see what all the fuss is about.
My wife, who has read the four-book Twilight series and couldn’t wait to see the movie, had me drop her off nearly an hour before show time so she could get a place at the front of the line. That was nice of her, especially since she didn’t expect me to join her until they let our line into the theater.
Once we got in, we staked our claim to seats in the back row, right behind some of my freshman students who probably were seeing the movie for the third time that weekend.
For the first 20 minutes or so of waiting, I’m pretty sure there was only one other male in the theater – though we didn’t want to make eye contact with each other because we thought the other guy probably either did something wrong or was too scared to tell his wife he didn’t want to see the movie.
The place was packed, even though it was a Sunday matinee. At one point, a group of five or six guys came into the theater and took a seat up front. They didn’t appear to have dates, so it was confusing to me. It was like we had all mistakenly walked into the ladies’ room. We were out of our element.
During the coming attractions before the main show, there were a couple of previews that my wife said looked like movies she’d want to attend.
“Oh, that looks good; I want to see that,” she said.
“Mmph,” I responded, which is code for, “I don’t want to see that.”
Having heard this before, my wife then says, “I’ll go see it with (insert female friend’s name here).”
When another trailer comes on showing a movie with crude, juvenile humor or lots of explosions or some such nonsense, I say, “Oh, that looks good; I want to see that.”
On cue, my wife responds, “Mmph,” and then adds, “You should take the boys to see that.”
We have an understanding.
So as “New Moon” played, I sat through the swooning of female teens and tweens – and some older women as well – who really liked when Jacob ran around without a shirt or Edward sullenly moved his white face and red lips tantalizingly close to the brooding Bella, whose love-struck visage bore a pained look. Yawn.
I actually liked “Twilight,” all things considered, but “New Moon” just didn’t shine for me. My wife and all the other females in the audience appeared pleased by the show, so the males who accompanied them scored points just for going.
And that’s worth sitting through a boring chick flick any time.
Adam Breen writes a blog at http://thebreenblog.blogspot.com and teaches newspaper and yearbook classes at San Benito High School. He is a reporter for The Pinnacle and is former editor of the Free Lance.
