Flocking to the Theater

Mom invited me to join the church ladies for their ritual Hen Night at the Movies. The drill: meet at Panda Express at 6:00 pm for dinner (arrive earlier to score the padded seats) and head to the 7:00 pm show.

Last night's selection was, of course, The Lake House with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves. I like Keanu; he was completely charming in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure and for this reason I'm willing to overlook his funny, pigeon-toed run and his wooden delivery.

I didn't have high expectations; I'd read a review beforehand. But still: what a stinker! There was the convoluted premise--would-be soulmates living two years apart communicating through a magic mailbox--which required more than the usual amount of suspended disbelief.

And dear Keanu was more wooden than usual (who'd have thought that possible). Other characters fared better with the clunky material, but not by much.

Unfortunately, the twist at the end puzzled the church ladies and we wandered out of the theater attempting to decipher what exactly happened during the last 10 minutes of the film.

Think of the twist in The Sixth Sense and imagine if that had been attempted by a less skilled group pf people, say a junior high drama club. That's the level of headscratching it inspired among the church ladies. And since I was "young," they kept trying to make me explain the ending to them. As if, in the midst of wedding planning, I had the mental capacity to do so.

First rule of chick flicks: don't confuse the flock.