So last night we slipped into fancy pants, arm wrestled for the cozy corner of our almost V-shaped couch, and yanked the Steve Urkel sleeping bag into the optimal position of ironic 1990s comfort. But when the movie started, I was a little confused:
"I thought Johnny Depp was in this," I said to Chuck.
"Nah. He's in 'Alice in Wonderland,'" he answered, which seemed like a satisfying answer at the time. Of course I would get those two films confused.
I couldn't remember if people hated or liked "Sherlock Holmes," so in the opening scene when giant serpent arms pirate a ship in the middle of the ocean, and later when a cartoonish dinosaur hopped into the frame, I just went with it. Holmes and his doctor friend continued on their quest to follow monster tracks through the countryside, and we laughed. Oh how we laughed.
That's when Chuck realized we were watching "Holmes," not "Sherlock Holmes." The former being billed as a mock-buster, the latter starring Robert Downey, Jr. That preview for a movie about a woman from Mars, starring Traci Lords, was starting to make sense.
So ... "Holmes" is pretty comical. Robots. Dinosaurs. A man removes his mask and says to Sherlock "Helllooo, brother." When Chuck tweeted this, I laughed so hard that I cried.
This all reminded me of a time when Fannie and I were in high school and we decided to go to the Galleria for an international film festival. "Il Postino" was playing. Even attempting this kind of high culture in high school was laughable. I mean, we hung out at Baker's Square. We weren't like edgy teens these days with their impractical bangs draped like beaded curtains over their eyeballs.
We ran into my friend Nora's parents before the film. They had just come from "Il Postino," and I felt very ho-hum worldly telling them that we were going to see it, too. I mean, this was a movie you had to read, right? (Later in my life Nora's dad asked me if I read and Proust and I had no idea who the hell he was talking about, beyond the fact that I had stuffed some Proust onto the shelves at Barnes & Noble. He also didn't think that the oysters at my restaurant were very hot. I always liked Nora's dad and considered him a wealth of knowledge about things that happen outside of Rochester, Minn.)
Fannie and I went into the theater, crouched into our seats and started watching this dark film about a woman who makes caskets when she isn't busy trying to fall in love. Or something. "Il Postino" was hilarious!
With about 20 minutes left in the film, Fannie whispered: "There is still another character that we haven't seen yet."
She had seen an interview with him on something.
I nodded. We waited. What a trick! Saving the star for the final moments of a film. Foreign movies ... so neat!
I sat there. Thought a second. And said:
"Wait. Are we sure this is 'Il Postino'? I mean, isn't that about a postman or something?"
Fannie thought for a second.
"And isn't it in Italian?" she added.
"What language is this?" I asked her.
"I think it's German," she said.
So I have no idea what we saw that day, but it was pretty good.