The Cinema Challenge
In this era of initials, we need to add “A.C.” to the list: After Corona. I see groups of joggers on the streets once again. Restaurants in Jerusalem are once again full to capacity. Night spots that attract the younger set are teeming with excitement. We have all had enough and want our lives back!
Hubby wants to go to a movie. He is right. We need not sequester in our homes any longer with fears of catching the Covid virus or one of its cousins. Still, it seems that the cinemas are quite empty. A combination of the obscene cost of both the tickets and the snacks along with the amazing availability of films in the comfort of one’s home all contribute to this. Still, going to a movie is an experience which Hubby actually remembers enjoying. I am delighted that he is actually requesting an evening out.
A look into the cinematic offerings of our local multi-plex gave me an added sense of normalcy. Clicking on each of the trailers was not just to see which film I might enjoy, but which would be appropriate for Hubby.
Just as there is a “not suitable for ages under….” warning, I have my own “not suitable for Hubby” category: No films with complicated political themes. None with too much violence and gore. None with people suffering from terminal illnesses. None with too many flash-backs (if one is to know that ahead of time). The idea of going out to the cinema is to enjoy ourselves, not to add stress to our lives. A romantic comedy works best for Hubby, but spending the bucks to watch that kind of film, seems wasteful. We can do that for free at home. I selected the film Belfast hoping that it would be a quality experience. Hubby is very British… so it seemed like a subject to which he could connect.
It was the first time in two years that I had taken Hubby to a film. We are fortunate to have an aide who helps him with the physical side of things (like getting Hubby dressed, going up and down the stairs of our home and walkways, accompanying with him to the taxi, and getting in and out of the taxi safely, all quite exhausting for me.)
When purchasing the tickets upon our arrival, I discovered that there is a special (secret) entrance to each film, for wheelchairs or those who use walking frames to assist them. It required a private elevator and escort to take us into the bowels of the building which houses twenty viewing screens. We waited by the elevator for an usher to accompany us. Hubby began his proclamations:
“How long do we have to wait?”
“Where is this person?”
“Why can’t we go?”
“We will be late!”
Indeed, we waited a couple of minutes for the employee to arrive. As we walked down the long hallways, Hubby was again losing patience. He bellowed as only Hubby can:
“When in the hell are we going to get there!!”
Normally, I would have winced at his display of impatience, but as we were in these long corridors, quite alone, it really did not matter. Scream away.
We entered the screening room (my brain just flitted to the words “screaming room” for a bit of levity)… at the very top row by a private door and slipped easily into our seats adjacent. We got comfortable, and arranged our edibles in preparation for the film, as the lights went down.
I had watched the trailer ahead of time. It was primarily about the relationship between neighbors and family members and the difficulty facing the deterioration of an inflamed society, during the conflict between the Catholics and Protestants in Ireland. There were moments of violence, but very short, and not graphic. I took the risk that Hubby’s British roots would make the story about a little boy and his family, relatable. The little Irish boy looked just like Hubby when he was about ten years old – freckles, chubby face, sweet, and bright. As we watched the film, I could not but wonder if Hubby was seeing himself in the film, or perhaps his little brother whom he adored. His younger brother died at about the age of ten from an infection, and it broke Hubby’s heart. He always felt that he was responsible for his baby brother, just as his older brother had been responsible for Hubby. Thus, somehow, he always felt that his brother’s young passing must have been his fault.
The film’s theme is actually quite universal. People of all religions and ethnicities have had to leave the countries that they loved and the people they cherished, to find safety from evil forces beyond their control.
Hubby connected. His eyes were open for a full two hours. He was absorbed by the screen. When he watches television, he inevitably falls asleep. The large screen, the excellent acoustics, the volume, the lack of distraction in a dark theater, all worked like a charm. For those who feel that there is no purpose to taking a loved one with cognitive decline to a cinema, I must encourage them to re-think.
It was such a pleasure to be able to participate in a normal activity and expand Hubby’s experiences at the same time. Worth the overpriced popcorn, the watery drinks, the round-trip taxi fare and the junk-food calories consumed by me, (pretending that it was an even exchange for healthy food), as I had not had any dinner.
This was an excellent outing for us all. It almost felt like the days before dementia, Corona, and the life we shared… and took for granted. Worth every cent.
