Edge of Tomorrow - A Movie Review...sort of

I don't get to the movies often. This past week I randomly barked out "Who wants to go see a movie with me?" Apparently, when children turn 15 they no longer hear their parents. I'm kind of like the bell in Polar Express. My four kids, ages 21, 18, 18, and 15 seem to actually hide in the house rather than be seen in public with me. I know it's just a phase and they'll realize how cool old Dad is, again, one day, I hope. My wife, God bless her, asked what we would be going to see. "The new Tom Cruise movie," I replied. She said she had to wash clothes and clean horse stalls. So, a couple of days later, when the kids were all doing their thing and Nancy was at Supper Club (It should be called "Wine Club"), I went to the Pinnacle 18 IMAX theater and bought my $17 ticket, picked up my 3D glasses, and went in to see Edge of Tomorrow.

I know you are asking, "Why that movie?" Like most men, I like futuristic, alien inhabited thrillers with blood and guts. Alien changed my life when a friend rented it in 1981. It was my second rated R movie (my first was 1980's Dressed to Kill with Angie Dickenson, but that is the subject of another essay...or two). I didn't know much about it, but I knew Tom Cruise was in it. I don't particularly like Tom. The whole Scientology-jumping-on-Oprah's-couch-Matt-Lauer-interview madness made me wary. After he locked up that cute little Katie Holmes and held her hostage as depicted on South Park, I swore him off altogether. But, I can't help it - I still pull for Tom. I do. I pull for him in the way I still want to see Def Leppard and Motley Crue make records. I wanted the Twinkie to survive. It's the same reason I will dismember Ashton Kucher with a fork for hurting my Demi. If Molly Ringwald is interviewed, I'm watching. That little morsel of allegiance rose from and is born of the same emotion that makes me care when there is a "Where are they Now?" article. Does anyone know where Julie from the Love Boat is? Tom was a hero of my youth. He's had staying power. I'm not talking about Mission Impossible Tom, but Top Gun, All the Right Moves and, more importantly, Risky Business Tom. These movies had a big impact on my life. Men wanted to be him and women, real live grown ones, wanted to be with me in my imagination when I was him. Women my age and at least one of my male friends still pause the volleyball scene in Top Gun. I have friends who can quote the entire dialogue from All the Right Moves. Joel Goodsen from Risky Business was simply the man.  Jimmy Johnston and I modeled our entire adolescence after that character, and though we drove our Dad's cars without permission, we never could get the older women to our parties. I pull for him in every role, because if he is too old, and he can't pull it off, then perhaps I'll have to look inward. If he is too old, maybe I can no longer drink real coke or eat a whole box of Sweetarts, like I did in the IMAX last Thursday. Sidebar (I'm a lawyer): When is one of these silicon valley geniuses going to invent cool 3D glasses? I'm not saying the early days of our courtship were tenuous, but if I'd taken Nancy to a 3D movie for one of those first 3 dates, it would have been over.

So, I was a few minutes late last Thursday. I was concerned it might be sold out given it was in the main theater and was the seven o'clock show on a summer night. I was one of five people in the 300 seat arena. Five. There was an older couple, the husband wearing his 3D glasses over his bifocals, and 2 other men. Right then and there I knew what it must feel like to walk into a porn theater. I started to wonder how sad the lives of these people were when I realized I was one of them. The movie sucks (that is the legal term). Tom Cruise keeps dying over and over. 20 minutes in I wanted to kill him and the guy who sold me the $15 coke and box of Sweetarts. The special effects are cool, but I can only find 2 good things about my experience - Nancy didn't know about the Sweetarts and Emily Blunt. These aliens were really hard to beat. We lost a lot of good men. The story line was truly maddening. Mostly, it just made me sad. Sure, Tommy Boy still looks young. Hell, he looks younger than me. Though he is 6 years my senior there is not any nose hair, ear hair or gray hair to be seen. I learned that I need plastic surgery, electrolysis, and Tom can no longer pull off the action hero. Sorry ladies, there were no shirtless scenes, so I suspect a man bra. I'm just not buying it anymore. Remember Chet from Weird Science (Bill Paxton)?  He played an older Master Sargeant with a beer belly - realistic casting. Bottom line, skip it. I'm now officially old. Tom needs to review the career of Jack Nicholson to see how to age appropriately on screen, and I'm buying a bike. I rushed home and rented Risky Business on Netflix to soothe my pain. It turns out, Rebecca De Mornay was the real inspiration in that film. Is she in anything coming out soon?

One Last Song...

I was waiting in line at the convenient store on Saturday watching as people continue to buy more lottery tickets than they ever did before the big ticket was sold on Clinton Highway, as if ours is the chosen town. Just as I was about to explain how the lottery was a tax on people bad at math, the beautiful piano introduction of "Don't Stop Believin" by Journey began to leak from the store speakers. A hush fell over the busy store. A trance came over the man in front of me and the woman behind me. They began to stare into the distance as we all will when the Zombie apocalypse is upon us, and, right on cue, all three of us sang the first line "Just a small town girl..." We laughed. Upon further investigation, which I do well, I discovered all three of us were in our mid to late 40's. We talked about the song and what it meant to each of us. Invariably, we agreed the song took us to a place, a time and a member of the opposite sex. The lady blushed, the man smiled and I delighted in the stories of school dances, acne, flirtations, and first kisses. Keep in mind, I didn't know these people. The conversation continued into the parking lot where the three of us had mysteriously become 13 years old.  For a minute, I thought we were going to go have a drink at Irish Times. Thank you Steve Perry for the song and for the moment at Pilot in the Summer of my 45th year. The power of a song.

I have a dear friend who has written many songs. Some of them have been hits. I'm amazed at the volume of high-quality songs he writes and envious of his ability to form the words and music that move people. Of course, I have my favorites. One such favorite is called "One Last Song." It is about the magic and power of music in our lives (see above). In particular, it is about a guy and girl meeting in a bar and the guy holding on, knowing that he'll have one last song to get the girl. I like the sentiment of knowing that it's never too late, believing there is one last song that might help deliver your last desire. Of course, it's never too late to get the girl, and the power of a song can convince you it's never too late to change your life.

I'm a lawyer, a father, a husband, a basketball coach, and a wanna-be-writer. I write because I love to. Most writers write for themselves. I'm that way. I've written for years and published to no one except my editor and chief critic, my wife, Nancy, who seems to be a bit biased. I write emails to a large number of friends who attend a golf tournament I run, but they are a captive audience. They've all encouraged me to write. I've decided now is the time to give writing more importance, give it the place in my life it deserves. Sure, I hope for an audience. My family carries the "I-want-an-audience" gene. This dominant gene drives us, regardless of talent, to the dance floor, any place there is a microphone, and the courtroom.  Generations of Pryor's have taken to the stage, usually resulting in humiliation, but it seems to be our destiny. Like Steve Perry and my dear friend, I've always wanted to move people; to entertain, enlighten, educate or, in the very least, make people think. I'm working on larger works, but in this forum I'll write about things that interest me. I'll write short stories or essays, and I'll take positions on issues. It's never too late to make a change. There's always one last song. What do you want to do? Don't stop believin.