Flash tale - "Première"

A little pretentious, attending a movie premiere.

Okay, more than a little.

John and Cindy won the tickets when they donated to their local public radio, succumbing after a week of pleading during the shared drive home.

“It’s like the Italy trip they keep talking about,” said Cindy as they sat at a red light. “No one ever actually wins this stuff.”

Her comment is mixed into the anecdote John delivers on Friday at the office. “My wife said there was no way, and so of course the universe listens, and we got the tickets!”

His colleagues do their best to look impressed. VIP seat at the arthouse theater, for the premiere of a movie starring pretty much no one famous, directed by someone no one has ever heard of.

Still, John and Cindy are happy enough. Their seats are front and center in the smallest screening room of the theater. They got the red-carpet treatment as they arrived, a sea of clicking and flashing cameras. Good thing they got dressed up, good thing they made the effort.

John flicks through the glossy program. “Director’s here, going to do a live Q&A after the movie.” He smiles – this is the real deal, like a film festival, like a change from slumming it on the couch and watching another direct to HBO Max superhero mess – but he does wonder what types of questions are appropriate for a Q&A. He doesn’t want to sound stupid; he doesn’t want to panic and blurt. He would Google the director, but they had to give up their phones when the entered the theater. That’s just how serious they are here. That’s how big a deal this is.

Same reason why they couldn’t buy popcorn or drinks, much to Cindy’s disappointment. No crunching allowed, no slurping through straws. The focus is on high art, there must be no lowbrow distractions. And Cindy’s on board with that, except it does feel strange,

Cindy looks around just before the lights do down. “Are we the only ones here?” she asks in a whisper.

John shrugs, makes a hushing gesture. Eyes front, no fidgeting. They’d better pay attention, because that Q&A is looming in his mind, and now this movie might as well feel like a lecture with a quiz at the end.

He sighs. The screen is black, and he strains to make out the picture and sound. Is that faint crackle part of the movie? And is that a shadow, is that hint of –

And then it’s everything. A cascade of color and sound that causes John to lean back in his seat, almost as if he’s been pushed back, like the force felt on a rollercoaster, and he forgets about being quiet, about being still. He yells with delight, with a sense of free exhilaration.

He is embarrassing Cindy. This will become a very different story to tell their friends. The time John acted like an idiot during a fancy movie premiere.

No worries. Cindy smiles open-mouthed at the screen. For just the first moment of brightness, Cindy was sure that they needed special sunglasses, because it was too bright, it was overwhelming.  The flashing colors are like a rainbow, aren’t they? The prettiest of rainbows, and she thinks of something from a long time ago, a long-forgotten toy. She clasps her hands together, imagining that she’s holding her rainbow pony, the one with the flowing mane that she would spend forever brushing, the one she insisted Daddy kiss goodnight before she went to sleep.

Such a long time ago.

Even if it feels like right now.

Immersive. That’s the word John will use when the movie is over. He will shout it out, a declaration.

It’s the right word, isn’t it? Because they are being immersed, they are inside the experience. John riding the rollercoaster, Cindy bathed in rainbows.

There is movement around them. They are being undressed; they are being changed. It would seem strange, it would be cause for anxiety and protest, if the people weren’t speaking with such soothing voices. They are helpers, and they coddle and cajole John and Cindy into relaxing, enjoying, and of course continuing to watch the pretty pictures. Because there’s a story. Can they see the story? Do they like stories?

John and Cindy nod their heads, their eyes still locked on the screen, as the helpers change their clothes. The pulling up of zippers and tightening of Velcro straps on sneakers. The brushing of hair and fussing with bows.

John and Cindy are being so good, they are perfect, and the story is easy, they can watch and learn, and there are characters on screen now, replacing the flashing colors, basic dialogue and music replacing the wall of sound, and John and Cindy know this is their favorite, their perfect movie.

The helpers sit on either side, and they let John and Cindy have snacks after all. Special movie snacks, like their very own servings of popcorn and their very own sodas. Because this is a special movie and because John and Cindy are being so very good.

John and Cindy relax into the story, they relax into the seats, almost as if they are sinking into the plush velvet, and they can swing their feet, and they can laugh out loud – because the story is so funny! - and they can be careless with the popcorn, they can be greedy, because the helpers will take care of them, they will take care of everything.

Before the movie takes too long, just as John and Cindy start to fidget and fuss, the characters on the screen talk straight to camera, straight to them. A blue character and a pink one, and John and Cindy listen intently, nodding their heads, grinning at the news, swinging their legs.

And what the characters promise can’t be true, because it’s like the promise of Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, and then the screen fades out, and two people in costumes arrive on stage, and the helpers prompt the children to meet Skye and Chase.

The helpers walk the children down the aisle and then lift them on to the stage.

John and Cindy look up at the costumed people with wide-eyed awe. It can’t be real, but it is.

The sense of intimidation, of thrilled uncertainty, is broken when Skye and Chase open their arms and crouch down. It’s a perfectly clear invitation.

“Poh-patole!” John blurts gleefully. “Poh-patole!” He toddles into Skye’s embrace, and Cindy does the same with Skye.

They are hugged, they are surrounded by a sense of reassurance and happiness that only children can enjoy, and when asked on the drive home, secure in their booster seats, before they drift off to sleep, but John and Cindy will agree that PAW Patrol is the bestest movie ever.

The End

"John and Cindy are enjoying an arthouse movie premiere, but as the show goes on, they get increasingly confused and distracted." - Joseph