A debate in the lobby on Adaptation

I was pleasantly surprised to find that Adaptation was playing at a theater in the suburbs and not just in the urban art houses of the city. Eager to see the latest creation from director Spike Jonze, who could be described as David Lynch on his meds, I tried to spread my enthusiasm to my friends. After some cajoling and a little pleading I was able to convince my four closest friends from home to go with me.

Unlike most of the other theaters on a Saturday night, Adaptation's was almost empty. There were approximately ten people in the theater, showing exactly why this type of film wasn't screened in most neighborhood multiplexes. Within the first half hour, the guy who had decided to start talking on his cell phone had left (no great loss there) and, later, the jean-jacketed family in the top row who had been making witless cracks throughout the film also left. The youngest member dismissed the movie as "The stupidest movie I'd ever seen."

I, however, was of a completely different opinion. The movie had been funny, touching and clever. As the house lights began to rise and the credits were rolling, I cried out "Yea!" and began to applaud. Suddenly my clapping was impeded by two firm hands grasping my wrists.

Katie: Stop clapping!

Me: I liked that movie. I'm clapping!

I wrenched my hands out of her grasp and resumed my applause, the older couple in the row ahead chuckled, apparently amused by our exchange. Katie would have none of it.

Katie: That was a bad movie!

I gasped. Were we in the same theater? She continued.

Katie: What was with that ending?

Siana: I know! It had me until then.

Katie: That was no conclusion. He didn't do anything that guy said. He said you're supposed to wow the audience at the end. He didn't wow us.

Me: Of course not, that guy was what's bad about screenwriting.

We gathered our coats and began to exit the theater.

Me: It was realistic.

Katie: It would have been realistic if she broke his heart.

Kim (the calmest among us): It wasn't about them; it was about him relating to his brother.

Me: Exactly! If she had broken his heart it didn't matter. What mattered is that he stopped being afraid to love. That was the whole point of the scene in the swamp.

Katie: I still say it was a bad movie.

As I brushed past the older couple, the wife said to her spouse, "Look! They're still arguing." Sparing her a glare, I turned back to Katie.

Me: I just don't understand how you can say that.

Katie: I just didn't enjoy it that much. I really didn't need to see him masturbating.

I conceded that point and went to get one of the plentiful promotional posters for the movie. Upon returning I asked a question to get to the root of the debate.

Me: What kind of movies do you like? What was the last movie you saw that you enjoyed?

In the midst of our discussion, two of college-age guys were having their own argument about the film.

Katie: Two Weeks Notice, it was cute.

Me: You see, I would sooner eat the promotional poster for Two Weeks Notice than see it.

Katie: But it has Sandra Bullock.

Me: I can't stand Sandra Bullock.

She looked as wounded as I did when she said she thought Adaptation was a bad movie. I sighed.

Me: We obviously have completely different tastes in film. Let's just agree to disagree.

Katie: Okay.

Me: (to Siana) You didn't like it at all?

Siana: No, I liked everything but the ending, it was just weird.

I conceded this flaw, and things were peaceful for a bit. Then we started discussing the purpose of film, then the acting credentials of Nicholas Cage. Our exchange attracted the attention of passers-by, some who stopped and listened to us until there was a lull in the conversation. By the time we'd started picking apart the flaws in Moulin Rouge, our ride arrived.

It's always nice to see a movie with friends.