Last night I made the decision to go to the movie theater with my dear friend, Serena. Since kindergarten, Serena and I have been kicking it side by side. I shared my first sleepover with her, which technically might not count since I grew tired of her jokes and forced my mother to tell her to leave early. (Ah, some things do not change.) Naturally, eleven years of friendship must mean the two people are not terribly close, or else they would have ripped each other’s hair out by then. Serena and I barely see each other every two months, which keeps the balance alive. I suggested we see a movie, and she desperately wanted to see the new documentary on Amy Winehouse: Amy. I agreed to her suggestion, and we were off. Her mother dropped us off at the theater around 7:10 for the 7:20 screening. As we went to purchase our tickets, there was one minor problem. Amy has not released yet. Serena had mixed up the dates, so we had to settle for another film. Minions and Transformers were out of the question, so I suggested The Gallows, a typical modern horror film. The man did give us a look of suspicion, since neither of us were old enough to buy tickets for a rated R film. However, he seemed to care even less than we did, and let us go. It wasn’t playing until 7:50, so we made a trip to the nearby Trader Joes, bought a box of Mochi, and headed into the theater.
As the actual movie begun, after minutes of pain wrenching trailers, only 12 other people were in the theater. A group of four tweens sharing one bag of popcorn, a couple in the farthest corner who clearly did not want any company, two girls whispering about soft drinks, another couple who decided this was the best place for a tickle fight, and two gentlemen talking with their outside voices. Serena and I did not seem to mind though, since we were very focused on our Mochi.
Now, I am no movie critique, but there was nothing special about this movie. It was about teenagers who were stuck in their high school at night and spent the whole movie trying to escape the ghost of Charlie, a kid who died there many years earlier. After many pot holes and ridiculously weak dialogue, practically every character died. After this mockumentary ended, I overheard nearly every one in the theater raving about how terrible the film was. I promise you, it was not great. It barely qualified as good. Before I could say anything, Serena stated her opposing opinion. She thought it was quality, and I silently let her believe so. Perhaps I was the one in the wrong. However, the statistics were on my side. Currently, it sat at 13 against 1. I went home and looked at the online ratings. Now the statistics shifted to 13-plus-nearly-every-critic-out-there against one.
“This movie is crap.”
User Ernieluna1007 went as far as to say: “Worst movie ever made.”
Serena stayed firm with her opinion, and tried to back up her defense by arguing it was “fun to watch”. Then I considered something else: Perhaps Serena did not fully enjoy the movie, but she enjoyed watching the movie. I can not remember the last time we went to see a movie together, and thinking back, it was really fun. I had missed Serena, no matter how different we have become. We laughed at the terribly cliche trailers and horrible fashion choices of those poor tweens. Then I changed my mind on The Gallows. It was in fact very fun to watch.