The Warriors
Let me take you back to 1979. I was a sophomore in high school. This movie called "The Warriors" came out. It was the most bad ass movie any of us have ever seen. I watched it a zillion times. We quoted phrases from it constantly. We dreamed of what it might be like to be in a New York Gang and have to fight our way back to our home turf. When The Warriors finally made it back to Coney Island and stood at the surf's edge and "the song"(somewhere out on that horizon, way beyond the neon signs) played, we felt we had fought every fight right along with them. Truly it went down in history as the most kick ass piece of film ever created.
Now, let me bring you to 2007. I have been thinking about that movie for about a year. After it came up in conversation again today, I had to go rent it. I was so excited. I was going to watch the most kick ass movie ever created. I I settled in for what I just knew was going to be a great hour and a half of movie watching.
After the movie ended, I thought to myself, "that was one crappy movie". What were we thinking? I had to laugh that it really was a great movie in 1979. In 2007 it sucked. It got me thinking how times change. What we consider kick ass today, dosn't quite compare to then.
I must say I felt a little cheesy for a minute.
Pop Culture changes with the years and some things are just better left alone.
It's like when you see Cheap Trick at the county fair. You shouldn't have done it. You want them to be as great as they were at the Paramount 20 years ago, but they arn't. This can become your last memory of them, and that is sad.
I think the next time I want a kick ass movie, it will have Wil Smith or Bruce Willis in it.
So sad, 1979 is gone. 2007 is here. The trick is to embrace the times you are in and not try to relive things gone by. You can't go back.
jb
1 Comments:
I was a changed girl after I saw the movie Fame. From the moment my mom picked us up at the mall, I had big plans to attend Performing Arts High in New York City where I'd regularly dance atop lunch tables and cars, and maybe even fall in love with a rebelious black dancer. Of course, the closest I ever came was an East Village comedy club for which I got paid $75 a show and slept in a friend's van with six other performers, and yet years later when I saw Fame again (which I shouldn't have done) I couldn't help but feel like I might have been able to dance on tables and cars if I'd worked just a little bit harder!
Recently, I've been thinking of Little Darlings. In light of your post, I'll leave that one alone.
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