The Following Showtimes Are Good For...

I am a movie theater; I present different shows at different times. Currently in queue are ten films, and they are as follows: The Child, The Memory Bank, The Bookworm, The Balloon Popper, The Wall, The New Girl, The Hermit Crab, The Lawyer, The Circuit Judge, and The Second Quixote. Each features the same main character with varying supporting cast members.

The Child is certainly feature-length, as I have been showing it my entire life. In it, I play hide-and-seek, red rover, and cartoon tag, and set aside a full day to watch Finding Nemo and Ice Age. I love climbing the ancient oak tree in my back yard. There is a branch that grew too heavy and sloped down to the ground, resting its weight for five feet then rising up again. I walk up the branch and into the tree where I spend the next three hours devising a pulley system with a rope and a bucket. Also in this film, I go to Chuck E. Cheese under the guise of my brother’s birthday parties. Sometimes, I have no excuse and I just go, bringing my friends along with me. I hold the monopoly on the pirate game the whole time we’re there. It is fantastic, with its wooden wheel and chance for thirty tickets. Before we leave, we cram into the tiny booth to have Chuck E. take our picture and sketch it onto paper with a purple border. I am a child.

In The Memory Bank, you will find that I tend to remember most of what goes on in my life, no matter how mundane. However, the more vivid recollections tend to be of turning points, or firsts. For example, in one scene, I recall the first time a boy told me he liked me. We were at church, in the balcony, on left side, and by the back row. We were best friends at the time, and thoughts of hand-holding and the like had never entered my head. Then he was sitting there, asking me if I felt the same way. Thankfully, church ended seconds after he broke the news to me and I grasped at the chance to escape the most awkward situation I had ever been in. As I went down the steps looking for my family, he followed me, asking for an answer. It was through this same friend (our friendship somehow managed to survive through years of such one-sided admiration) that I discovered my pennant for remembering things that happen in my life. I would tell him stories of things he had said to me a year or three ago, and he would never remember. I am a memory bank.

The Bookworm puts me on exhibit with the pocket of nerds in the corner laughing over jokes with perfect grammar. Likewise, I will be found too with the history film geeks giggling over gags about Napoleon in France. I am the girl with a membership to the public library of the city she has lived in for less than two weeks. It is also me sitting on the floor in the second-story stacks of the school library. I am the friend that drags anyone remotely interested to Barnes & Noble’s, where we stay for hours, sitting in the windows behind the card racks with our coffee and choice reads. When I was little, every Tuesday, my mom, brother and I would set off for the library where I would proceed to take out not only my limit of sixteen books, but to then put the remainder of my stack on my mom’s card. The next week, I would cart it all back, read, and start over. I am a bookworm.

A bit farther down on the charts, we find The Balloon Popper, in which I am the antagonist. As the ratings go down, I show this story of harsh practicality and sensibility less often. In the movie, you will see dream building sessions, where I am walking around the conference table popping people’s impractical balloons. When friends ask my advice on whether they will get the girl or guy, I simply cannot bring myself to give a blanket yes. Instead, I lay out the reasons for both why it may and may not work, and give an honest opinion. While I do try for optimism, I often end up abandoning my efforts for more realistic views. In my head, it is common sense. Preparing oneself for anything more than the realistic ending cannot be healthy. Should you get above and beyond what you hoped, then you have been pleasantly surprised; should you get less, you can hardly be disappointed. I am a balloon popper.

Similar to The Balloon Popper‘s decreasing showtimes, The Wall is shown only to those who require a special viewing. The conditions under which The Wall is shown include repetition of the following: arrogance, antagonizing, lying, and the insulting of others. In the movie, I consciously shut down the portals that receive what others think of me, while opening fully those portals through which I communicate what I think of others. In juvenile terms, “I’m rubber, and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.” While not only employing a burly defense, I also launch an offense; I become sarcastic in a strong sense of the word. In the end, there comes a certain satisfaction with being quick-witted and sharp-tongued. I am a wall.

Garnering the most showings is The New Girl. It has of late become quite popular, even earning itself the nickname of Casey as the result of a repartee with a new friend. The New Girl has become so well admired that it has nearly drowned out the others in the line-up, save one to be expounded upon later. Here, when thrust into unfamiliar surroundings, I become outgoing, cheery, teasing, and otherwise sanguine. Within a group, I find things to comment on to the person next to me, and then introduce myself. When with friends, I find it especially easy to strike up conversation with those around me, with light sarcasm and smiles. This ease around others is less than two years old and I have my best friend, Jessica, to thank for it. When we met, I was quite shy and she was overly outgoing. After some embarrassing walks around the mall in which Jess stopped to chat with workers selling cell phones in the kiosks and kids with mohawks on the steps, we evened each other out. I am the new girl.

The Hermit Crab is the aforementioned film that’s popularity did not diminish in the rise of The New Girl. The Hermit Crab portrays me as someone who likes to be alone. Being alone can mean wandering stores, driving crowded roads, and perusing my campus by myself. It can also mean sitting by a lake or taking a walk, preferably away from the city and under stars. I am melancholy and introspective. It is renewing to just be quiet, and to let worry fall away for a while. I am unlike many girls who need companionship with them wherever they go. I prefer to do the mundane tasks alone, so that I can put myself on autopilot and free my mind to rest or to work through current events. This movie is the opposite of The New Girl in that instead of becoming an active, social part of the environment, I withdraw and instead become part of the woodwork, watch and take everything in. I am a hermit crab.

In The Lawyer, you will find I love to debate, both the light and heavy topics. I’m well known among my friends for arguing trivial points, a reputation I dislike and so make efforts to minimize unnecessary disputes. In one example, a friend and I carry a row about the flavor of a certain brand of chapstick well into two weeks. Her argument is that the original smells like vanilla. Mine is that they also have a vanilla flavor, so why would they flavor both the original and vanilla the same? In college, I love criminal justice class because we discuss the death penalty, prostitution, and marijuana. I revel in philosophy, admiring Descartes’ proof of existence and Aquinas’ proof of God. I pull over to argue theology with the street preachers, and answer the door to spar with Jehovah’s witnesses. I am a lawyer.

The Circuit Judge demonstrates my zeal for justice, in different places and situations. I cannot abide anything less. The film, set partly in Australia, tells of a study abroad trip gone unpleasantly wrong. The sum of paltry accommodations, repulsive meals, and leaders who lose our respect steadily as the trip progresses make for a short-fused and volatile group of young men and women considered to possess leadership qualities. Eventually I, along with a few others, speak up against what is happening, to the leaders, to our parents, and finally to the president of the organization. In the end, every student is given the option of a partial refund or a free study abroad trip the next year. Another illustration uses my brother, David, who has Down’s syndrome. From the time that we are young, I am very protective of him, especially around other children. This continues through to the present as I watch to be sure that he is not mistreated by anyone. In the last case of my crusade against injustice, I abhor racism. Few things are harder for me to stomach, and my sympathies for those who hate others because of the pigmentation of their skin do not extend far. I am a circuit judge.

My chimerical fancies are revealed in The Second Quixote. Watch me as I grow up on Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. Remember The Bookworm? This movie is based off my incessant reading of the previously mentioned detectives, along with the Bobbsey Twins, Boxcar Children, Trixie Beldon, and Encyclopedia Brown. As a result I concoct a notional dream house. It will certainly have a basement, bricked. One wall will have a brick that can be depressed, causing the wall to shift, revealing an underground tunnel leading out into the barn’s false floor. The house will have a secret staircase (spiral of course) accessible from the library and my room, a hidden room in the attic, and a passageway from the living room to the kitchen. The fireplace simply must have a false back behind which to keep valuables, and there will be plenty of wooden boxes with springs to activate false bottoms spread around the house for amusement. I am a second Quixote.

As you can see through these brief synopses, this theater offers a multiplicity for your enjoyment. Hopefully, one or more of the films will amuse you in the near future. I am conveniently located on a small college campus. Once again, your selections are The Child, The Memory Bank, The Bookworm, The Balloon Popper, The Wall, The New Girl, The Hermit Crab, The Lawyer, The Circuit Judge, and The Second Quixote. Please call ahead for showtimes.