Warning: The following contains spoilers that may ruin forever the way you view certain movies.Or maybe you won't care, but either way you have been warned so read on at your own risk.Since I was a kid I have been drawn to the escapism of a theatrical adventure – in other words, I was (and still am) substituting my pathetic version of reality for the fantasy of a pretend life that is always better than my own.
But sometimes I will watch a great movie and one thing will happen that will forever cloud the shining light of fun the show used to be.A prime example is the 1930s version of King Kong.
It is a really cool movie and I love the overacting of the era and the groundbreaking claymation special effects, however it was part of the actual story line that diverted my attention.Between chomps of popcorn, a question formed in the far reaches of my cranium, the area of my brain that is typically reserved for truly baffling questions like, ‘Why do they call pants a pair when there is only one of them?Some people say it is because we have two legs, thus the plural reference.A fine argument indeed, but do we not also have two arms and we don’t call it a pair of shirts. It is just a shirt, singular.
They also don’t call it a pair of bras.Anyway, mysteries of the universe aside, I was watching the old black-and-white flick when this question leapt from the darkness: Why did they have a huge gate the same height as the wall?The people were of normal size, so why build a giant gate which would be a weak spot in their static defense against the Kong-meister?Technically, all they needed was a little door they could run out of and yell, "Hey King Kong, I got your banana right here buddy," and then jump back inside and close the door.It could have been a game where they would jump outside of their little door, throw a couple of insults at the gigantic one, like ‘Your mom was an orangutan,’ and go back inside for a lager and a laugh.
Instead, they go and build a full-size gate the Kong-inator can smash his way through.Which he does of course, and all the little people run around screaming, except for one guy who is calmly leaning up against a tree saying, "A little door. I told you, all we needed was a little door. But did you listen to me? Noooooo, you gotta go and build this great big gate. Well, I hate to say I told you so, but…"Another movie that caused me distress (which gives you some idea just how sad my life really is) was the Lord of the Rings.It is by far one of my most favourite movies, but once again the deep, dark reaches of my brain barfed out a thought that would forever taint the way I watch the moving picture version of J.R. Tolkien’s literary masterpiece.
LOTR is a noble tale of good and evil, where just like in real life, good triumphs and all the hero types slap each other on the back for a job well done, while the bad guys go back to their day jobs as lawyers and politicians.
The main characters are Frodo and Sam, Hobbits from the Shire who take the Ring of Power from their quaint little home to the ominous Mount Doom, which is a far more intimidating name than Mount Unpleasant, or Mount Not a Very Nice Place to Visit.The heroes fight their way through a massive army of some seriously ugly critters, a few flying lizard thingies and a spider large enough to beat Elvis in a doughnut-eating contest. Well, the spider would give the King a good run for his money anyway.The trek takes who knows how long and they pay a heavy emotional and physical price.So what is my problem with the 95-hour long movie epic?Why didn't they just fly?Gandalf, the resident wizard and one of the chief back slappers, called upon the giant eagles a couple of times to help out in a tight spot.
It was part way through my second watching of part one of the trilogy when the idea exploded in my brain, why not simply give the birds a call, or even a text message, and ask if they wouldn’t mind giving Frodo and Sam a ride to Mount Doom?
To me, that makes way more sense than hiking the entire distance and having to use leaves and who knows what else for personal use.
They could have even flown around the tower a couple of times yelling, "Hey look what I got. It's your ring. Here, do you want it? Oops, that's right, I forgot, you don't have any hands because you are just a giant eye. Oh well, sucks to be you. Later dork."The entire trip would have taken a few hours.
They hitch a ride with their fine feathered friends, run into the cave, drop the ring in the lava, run back to the birds and still be back home in time for dinner and a movie.Piece of cake.Or, they could spend days hiking through the woods eating dirt, dodging bad guys and, I am sure, building up a case of body odor that would make even the nastiest of Orcs cringe.I'm just saying, perhaps they should have thought it through, but then again, where’s the fun in that.