Benny Jay: Avatar

I finally see Avatar.

My younger daughter drags me to the 9:30 show on a Wednesday night – she’s got no school on Thursday cause she’s done with finals.

They charge us extra – $14 – cause it’s one of those 3-D shows and they give us the glasses at the door.

If you haven’t seen Avatar, here’s the deal: These bad guys fly to this distant planet where they make life miserable for the good guys, these blue-skinned natives. One of the bad guys joins the good guys and leads an uprising against the bad guys.

That’s pretty much all you need to know about Avatar other than the hero – the bad guy turned good guy – is a dead ringer for my nephew Ryan. Which, now that I think about it, you don’t really need to know at all….

Anyway, right in the middle of the movie, the theater door opens and this lady and a kid – no more than five, maybe six — walk up the aisle. They don’t have 3-D glasses.

Right away I get it. They saw a different movie that just let out and now she’s sneaking into Avatar cause she wants to see it without paying $14 like the rest of us chumps.

They sit directly behind us and start talking. Just carrying on a conversation like, you know, they’re on a playground or something.

I can’t hear everything they’re saying – more like a word here and there. But it’s enough to drive me crazy.

So I turn around and say — shh.

And the lady says to her kid, shh. And the kid says, what? And the lady says, shh. And they’re quiet for about ten seconds. And then the kid says, mommy, is this Avatar? And I think: No, kid, it’s Laurence of Arabia. And mommy says, yes. And the kid says, Mommy, is this the jungle? And I think – no, kid, it’s Brooklyn. And the lady says, yes. And the kid says….

On the screen a fight breaks out. Guns blazing and everything. The kid mimics the sound of the machine guns: Twi-twi-twi-twi—sheer. Or something like that.

That’s enough for my daughter. She moves to a seat in the back of the theater.

Then he starts mimicking the sound of the airplanes: Yearyahhh.

That’s enough for me.  I move further down the aisle.

Their voices disappear. I get back into the movie, when I hear a sound that’s hard to describe. Sort of like the faint murmuring of a babbling brook….

Oh, no, it’s the guy behind me. He’s talking and there’s no one responding. The lunatic is talking to himself!

Is this possible? First the kid, now this nutcase!

I take off my glasses and scan the theater. I get up and walk to an empty seat about ten rows up.

Finally. No muttering, no murmuring. No babbling brook. No kid talking to mommy. No mommy talking to kid. Just the movie. The guy who looks like Ryan’s making it with this beautiful native babe….

I feel something at my side. I look down. What the fu….

It’s the kid! He’s rolling down the aisle. He rolls past me and comes to the end of the stairs and just lies there talking to himself. Then he comes back rolling up the aisle. The little creep’s getting quite a workout. I’m thinking – it’s closing in on midnight on a Wednesday night – doesn’t the little shit have school in the morning?

Next thing I know here comes mommy. Marching up the aisle….

“C’mon,” she says.

“I don’t wanna go….”

“C’mon….”

“No, mommy, no….”

“Let’s go….”

“Waaaa….”

The little twerp’s wailing!

The mom walks out the door. Realizing his mommy can’t hear him, the kid stops wailing, gets up and walks out, the door slamming behind him.

Up on the screen, there’s a war going on:  Planes roaring, guns blazing, bombs exploding, mayhem, violence, death….

But in the theater, kid and mommy have left.

Ah, peace at last….