Movie theater concessions and consuming them shamelessly

Gentle readers, last week I attended the "Back to the Future" marathon at my favorite movie theater. In addition to the swanky reclining seats and the proximity to my home and office, it's my favorite because it doesn't skimp on concessions. Sure, there's popcorn, candy, and soda. But they also serve 3 kinds of hot dogs, soft pretzel bites with nacho cheese, ice cream, lattes, alcoholic beverages, and more.

Growing up, I never had this many options when I attended - and later worked at - movie theaters. But if I had, I would've probably loaded trays with hot dogs, pop corn, candy and sodas...just like the teenager who sat in my neighboring seat.

I'll admit, my adult side was a little bit put off by the amount of food (and subsequent trash) this kid was collecting. But like I said, I understand the impulse. Especially in a 3-movie event, it's important to have some munchies handy.

However, this particular kid had attended the marathon with some other family members. And while they were happy to give him his space and let him and his buddy sit in a different section of the theater for the show, I witnessed an unfortunate and uncomfortable interaction during the intermission between film 1 and film 2.

An older relative (a young grandmother, older aunt, or possibly a family friend) came over to the kid's seat and seemed shocked by the amount of food he'd just brought back to his seat. "That's an awful lot of food!" she exclaimed.

The kid barely even made eye contact with her as he replied, "We've got another two movies to get through."

Aunt-grandma-friend repeated her exclamation that it sure was a lot, but he shrugged it off, ignoring what sounded like genuine concern for his well being. Instead, he flopped into his reclining chair and went about the arduous task of propping his feet up with the motorized leg rest.

Aunt-grandma-friend walked away.

I happened to be attending the marathon alone, and so I pondered the exchange in the few minutes remaining during intermission. I remember what it was like to be that kid. I used to love treating myself to nitrate-stuffed hot dogs and sugary soft drinks. I laughed at and rebelled against comments like, "Do you really need that refill?" or "Isn't that your third box of candy tonight?" But deep down, I resented the people who said those things to me, because even though they had my best interests at heart, they had chosen the worst possible moment to bring up the sensitive topic of health and wellness; moviegoing was supposed to be about entertainment and indulgence!

Even though I understood where she was coming from, I thought the aunt-grandma-friend was way out of line. Her comments sounded judgemental even to a casual listener, and she brought it up in front of the kid's friend, who was also consuming many concessions. That kid's indifference seemed cold, but probably hid a lot of contempt and guilt. His friend will probably feel judged by that aunt-grandma-friend every single time he interacts with her from that moment onward.

So where am I going with all of this?

First, I want to make it clear that there's no need to call out overeating at a movie theater. The moviegoing experience should be whatever the moviegoer wants it to be; stuffing their face as Doc Brown shatters the space-time continuum, or sipping a small bottle of water as Matt Damon outsmarts the Mars landscape. If you're concerned about a loved one's diet, find a time when they are not with their friends to suggest a few healthier habits. You'll do a lot less damage to them that way.

Second, if you're attending a movie marathon, get up and leave the theater in between films. Stretch your legs, visit the restroom, grab a refill, and don't come back to your seat until the next movie is starting. Other people can really kill the mood with their dumb personal crap.

Inside Out - Who sits at the center of your console?

Have you seen Inside Out yet, gentle reader?

I hope you have. I hope that, like me, it made you bawl your eyes out. I hope it reminded you of how complex the human mind is, and how important it is to have emotional balance.

Most of all, I hope it made you think; that's certainly what happened when I watched this film.

I could give you a plot synopsis, but that's not really important in following my train of thought here (choo choo).

As you probably know, a big chunk of this story takes place inside an 11-year-old girl's mind. "Headquarters" is populated by 5 emotions: Joy, Fear, Disgust, Sadness, and Anger. When the girl is young, they can only impact her by pressing a simple button on a console, but by the time she's 11, the console has expanded to include toggles, switches, light bulb fixtures, and other whirligigs. The various characters huddle around the console, loosely arranged, but Joy is often dead center; she's the emotion that has dominated the girl's thoughts over the years.

But we also get little peeks into the parents' minds, and their Headquarters are quite individualized. Their consoles are larger. Their surroundings are more functional and less whimsical than their daughter's. In both of their minds, their emotions are more tranquil, seated at their consoles in seemingly random order:

When I looked more closely, though, I began to wonder if the seating arrangements of the different emotions had anything to do with the parent's personality. For the mother, Sadness takes the middle seat. For the father, it's Anger. And while the mom didn't seem extremely sad, and the dad didn't seem extremely angry, I did begin to wonder: do our emotions become ranked as we age?

As I considered this, I became a little bit unsettled. I've never been the easiest person to get along with; I'm opinionated and like to play devil's advocate. I'm overly cautious and not particularly cheerful. Is it possible that Sadness or Disgust is my dominant emotion? Is Joy wayyyy out on the edge of my console, barely able to assert her influence on me?

Maybe it's silly to put so much stock in a movie concept. But then again, this movie has definitely helped others articulate their personal issues and detangle the complicated emotional threads that make up the fabric of themselves.

Inside Out may be a kid's movie, but as an adult, I found myself hoping that it wasn't too late. I want Joy to be my dominant emotion. Do you think it's possible to shuffle the rankings of your emotions? Or, once they take a seat at your console, is it just too late to change things up?

Twilight: Reimagined Indeed.

So I'm going to be totally up front with you, gentle reader.

I'm a Twilight fan.

No, I didn't scream when Edward appeared in each film. No, I didn't write any fan fiction. No, I don't have any Twilight tattoos.

But I have a long and unique history with the series, and I want to talk about it a little bit.

Let me begin by acknowledging that these aren't particularly good books. The prose is terrible (17-year-old narrators are boring), the themes are half-baked, the plot structure leaves a whole lot to be desired. The books manage to be both conservative and liberal, racy and chaste, religious and sacrilegious. Natalie Wilson wrote an intriguing blog and book on the many contradictions in the texts.

There are three major redeeming qualities in the books/movies for me. Well, maybe four:

1) The disregard for traditional vampire mythos. I LOVE that Stephenie Meyer chose to rewrite how vampires are made, how they live, how they look, how they sleep (or rather, don't sleep), and especially how they love. The stuffy rules of nighttime only, grotesque fangs, aversion to garlic, etc. are completely rewritten. That was a bold choice, and if I had to be any kind of vampire, I'd choose Meyer's kind over Stoker's kind any day.

2) I genuinely respond to Bella and Edward's love story. I really do. I love that his first impulse is to kill her, and that he's able to choke it back. I love that she is drawn to him and completely ignores other suitors. I love their weird, adversarial courtship and their declarations of affection and fear in that damn meadow. I love that things don't go the way they expected, and somehow they still get their little piece of forever. Is he a bit of a stalker? Yeah, and if he was a human that shit might be weird, but he's superhuman and sexy as hell so he gets a pass. Is she an idiot for loving something that could kill her in a heartbeat? Yeah, but people have those kinds of relationships with drugs, alcohol, driving fast, and a million other dangerous obsessions...I'd say a sparkly vampire is as good a vice as any.

3) The movie version of "Eclipse" did a better job explaining this than Meyer ever did, but this story isn't a love story. It's a coming-of-age story with a love story in it. Something that a lot of critics refuse to acknowledge is how hard Bella fought to become the best version of herself. Yes, it was a version of herself with Edward, and yes, it was a version of herself as a vampire. But that's what she wanted, and it's the version of herself that felt right. When I think about how I want to be like Bella, it isn't because of her hubby or her vampy powers. It's because she has discovered the person who she has always wanted to be. I wish we were all so lucky.

4) Have you guys heard the soundtracks of these films? Damn. Florence and the Machine, Paramore, The Belle Brigade, OK GO, St. Vincent, Iron and Wine, The Black Keys...there is so much talent in the soundtracks! Music is a vital part of the books, as well as the films, and every director brought a unique musical sensibility to their work. You can hate the story and disagree with me on the interpretation of the text, but there's no getting around how fantastic the music is.

But here's the thing: on the tenth anniversary of Twilight's release, in response to critiques that Bella is too passive and falls into the worst representations of women in decades, Stephenie Meyer decided to release a "Reimagined" version of the Twilight tale. Only this time, NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF THE CHARACTERS' GENDERS WERE REVERSED.

Meyer hoped to reinforce the point that Bella wasn't weak because she was a girl; she was weak because she was surrounded by superhuman characters.

It's an argument I've made myself.

So I got a copy on audiobook and checked it out.

Many things were familiar. Beau was a bookish teen who loved his mom but moved in with his dad to make his mom's life easier. His dad, Charlie, was the sheriff of Forks. School mates immediately befriended him and flirted with him, and a strange family of students sat apart from everyone else in the lunchroom, piquing his curiosity. The mysterious Edythe seemed repulsed, disappeared for weeks, returned, saved his life, and then treated him with equal parts begrudging irritation and coy fascination.

And then they fell in love.

But - SPOILER ALERT - here's where Meyer lost my support: she rewrote the ending of the first book. Instead of being saved by Edythe, Beau receives a bite from the tracker vampire, and it's too late to get the venom out of his system. So Edythe gives him a choice. Die, or become a vampire. He chooses the latter.

I actually loved this ending, and would have preferred if Bella had been given the same option. It would have saved her (and Twilight readers) from nearly THREE FULL BOOKS of emotional drama, love triangle bullshit, and one very gruesome birth scene.

But Bella didn't get the same choice that Beau got. She had to wear Edward down, book after book. She had to suffer through his absence in New Moon, suffer through his abstinence in Eclipse, and suffer through childbirth in Breaking Dawn. That's a pretty far cry from Meyer's alleged intentions with the gender switcheroo.

The main lesson I have come away from this series with has been an unexpected one: women suffer more. They're denied choices that men are given. They have to fight harder to get what they want. They have to endure when men would surrender. And even though that sucks, and it isn't fair, and it isn't what the author intended to teach me...it's an empowering message. I'm a woman. I can stand the pain. I can stand the heartache. I can stand the labor. And one day, I will dazzle you.

Suck it, Lestat.

What the hell is Ki Witness?

Hello, gentle reader.

I'm thrilled that you've stopped by.

This blog is called Ki Witness. I'm Ki (pronounced "key"), and the posts that I intend to produce on this little bit of internet will be centered around the things that I witness.

Like Anne of Green Gables, I spent a lot of time talking as a kid. But as an adult, I've discovered a penchant for observing. It's what I do for work (I'm a UX Researcher - I watch people interact with digital products like apps and web sites and note when they stumble), it's what I do for fun (I'm an avid TV/movie buff), and it's often what I do when I'm with others (I tend to listen more than speak, especially in bigger groups).

There's another, more fun reason why I chose this title. At one of my jobs, there was a running joke about incorporating your name into funny TV/movie titles. For example, a guy named Sam would have a voice competition show called "Sam Sung".

So one night some coworkers and I are unwinding, and suddenly it hits one of my friends; my show would be called Ki Witness. From across the room, I watched the silly pun dawn on her, and then we both began to laugh hysterically. It's one of the most pure moments of humor and friendship that I have ever experienced, and I'm pleased to give that title new meaning with this blog.

More to come.