For the past few years, Samith and various other guys that we know have been going to see a movie once a month. Originally these were “Any Movie Our Wives Wouldn’t See With Us”, but as that almost universally means that it’s a bad movie, the vernacular became “Bad Movie Night”. Now we actively search out movies for which the theatre will be nearly empty. You and pretty much guarrantee that we’ll be at any movie that is (a) based on a
comic book graphic novel, (b) based on a video game or (c) features lots of things blowing up.
This month’s movie was Casino Royale. It was actually a good movie, and so we had to fall back on the original Bad Movie Night charter to justify seeing it. It also happens to be one of maybe three James Bond books that I read when I was maybe 14 years old. As this isn’t actually a review of the movie as much as a review of Bad Movie Night, I won’t say more about it except that they new Bond didn’t look much like Bond at the start, but did at the end.
The theatre was pretty full this time, but usually we’re about half of the audience and thrice we’ve been the only people in the theatre. Once they held the movie for us because Samith (or maybe it was me) was running late. After the movie we go out to eat and talk about the movie and other manly things that our women folk wouldn’t understand –and by that I mean, “wouldn’t be remotely interested in”.