I am not often willing to spend the money to see a movie in theaters when I feel the movie is likely to suck. I’ve written before that “it’s all about expectations” and if I expect a movie to be bad, why would I put my $10 (or $15, as the case may be these days) into helping said bad movie make bank? But there are rare occasions when common sense is trumped by a Voice and the Voice leads me into the lion’s den, so to speak. Sometimes the Voice is that of my wife. Did I think “Bride Wars” would be terrible? Yes. Did I see it anyway? Yes. Did I want to kill myself afterward or halfway through? A little bit, yes. But the Voice took me there anyway. Sometimes the Voice is that of The Nerd Inside. Did I see all the terrible signs leading up to “Terminator: Salvation?” Yup. Did I let that stop me? No, I was there at Midnight and yes, the warning signs were correct.
Sometimes, however, the Voice takes on the form of Childishness. Full of precociousness and wonderment, the Voice of Childishness calls out, “Come on…come on…come on…” until I give in and find myself doing something stupid. In this case, Childishness sparked when a Thursday email reminded me that the next day was Good Friday and I didn’t have to go to work. What shall I do with my new found freedom, I asked myself. Immediately I realized what I must do: assemble a group to recreate the magical Summer of the Nerd and see a sure-to-be-terrible nerdy movie. And so, at 10:45 (because there were no Midnight showings that weren’t in 3D and weren’t at the Rave where even Childishness couldn’t drag me), two friends and I found ourselves in a theater watching “Clash of the Titans.”