Bill's Movie Wars
Bill's Movie Wars
by Bill Knell
When I grew up and had children of my own, I promised myself that I would never make them go to see a movie (or watch one on video or online) because of what I experienced as a child.
Back in the 60s when I was growing up, there were two types of movies for kids under 12…
1. There were entertaining flicks that every kid wanted to see.
2. There were annoying, overly sentimental movies with bad or sad endings that parents wanted their children to see.
I usually got number two, which made me feel like it
Motion picture companies kept making new pictures, or re-releasing old ones, that were aimed at children and sometimes made me sick. I didn't like “mushy” films with a lot of totally unrealistic emotional exchanges and sad story plots. These weren't like chick flicks, which I sometimes enjoy; these were mega chick flicks on steroids with kid themes.
My mother was always very emotional and, at times, overly self absorbed. One day i came in from playing in the yard because it was lunch time. I saw my mom making a sandwich and assumed it was for me. That night I heard her tell my dad that she was making herself a sandwich and “he thought it was for HIM!” like I was a selfish jerk or something. The worst time was when she was going through menopause. She had me late in life, so I was still under ten when it began. That put her emotional state into hyperdrive.
During those days she dragged me to see movies like Old Yeller, Dumbo and Pinocchio to make herself feel better. I liked the newer ones like Mary Poppins and Jungle Book. Because I did, she initially found reasons for me not to go see them. She thought Mary Poppins was too British. Don't ask! She thought Jungle Book was too racy. Huh? Don't get me wrong. Despite her outbursts, saying NO mentality and bad taste in films, I loved and respected her. Over the years I was always there for her.
I watched old monster, sci-fi and horror films on TV. Thanks to my dad, I was allowed to watch those… and the Three Stooges shorts. Mom hated that and constantly complained. What saved me was that I liked to read and regularly brought home armfulls of books from the library. She loved that and encouraged it thinking it would take the edge off any possible negative affects that might come from too much TV watching and my viewing choices.
In order to give me more positive influences, Mom decided I should see the re-release of Bambi, instead of King Kong verses Godzilla; Pollyanna, instead of Children of the Damned. She said the 1964 film was “nasty and too British”. I was eight, so maybe she had a point about the content. But It was really a reasonable sci-fi film based on an excellent book. Those were just minor skirmishes compared to upcoming battles.
When I was just a kid, my cousin Ingrid came to live with us on Long Island after her folks both died. My parents kindly adopted her. That made all the difference because my mom finally had the daughter she always wanted. She miscarried a girl before me and it greatly affected her.
Ingrid was a couple or three (depending on what month it was) years older than me. Growing up in and just outside of New York City made both of us streetwise. We would go by train into the city to see performers like Pink Floyd, Janus Joplin, Joe Cocker and Aerosmith at the Fillmore East auditorium when they were first starting out. Tickets were just $5-$10. My folks were good with our outtings because Ingrid always watched after me and I knew how to look after myself. Then, the happy train came to a screeching stop.
Ingrid was a popular tween model. She got to know a lot of people and one of them was the manager of a theater in the City. His daughter was also a model and friend of Sis. While we enjoyed watching old Spaghetti Westerns on late night TV, we wanted to see the new ones. The problem was that most of the films we liked had ratings that kept us out of the theaters without our folks. Not a problem for Sis.
We both wanted to go see The Good, The Bad and The Ugly when it premiered in 1967. Ingrid got us in and it was terrific. We just told our folks we were “going to the movies in the City” and they were fine with that. They knew the theater and sometimes went there themselves. Later, mom heard Ingrid talking to one of her friends on the phone. She mentioned the movie we saw and it was on.
Mrs No got on us. Thankfully, my dad was a big western movies fan and pointed out that mom was making a big deal out of nothing. It was just another western to him, no better or worse than most others. We slid by on that one, but Ingrid and I were big movie fans and we were not going to let anything stop us.
By that time I began taking my first real, but unofficial, girlfriend Jayne to the movies. She had no siblings, so her folks were happy to see me acting like a brother and good friend. She joined us on several of our jaunts into the City, along with some of Ingrid's model friends. Psycho (1960) was re-released into theaters and we were all determined to see it. Jayne chickened out at the last minute, but I understood. She disliked really intense films.
School started up after summer break right around that time. I met my new teacher and had a few old friends in my class. We were talking in the classroom during free time after lunch. I told them how exciting Psycho was. My teacher heard me and sent me to the School Psychologist. He kept asking me why I wanted to see the movie in the first place hoping that I would reveal some deep seeded mental issue or disparity. I truthfully said that I read the book, enjoyed it and wanted to see the movie.
My busybody teacher called my mom. When I got home she had words (not good ones) with Ingrid and me. Somehow, Ingrid smoothed things over by explaining that the American version of the movie had no really bad naughty scenes or expletives. Mom said that we had better not go to any more movies made by that “English pervert” and left things at that.
I was a huge Ian Fleming fan. I read all his books by that time. Ingrid felt the same. We just had to go see Goldfinger. It was an amazing film. Once again I made the mistake of talking about our outting at school. Once again I was sent off to the school shrink. He, and some other people, thought the film had nudity. It did not. The girl who was painted all in gold had a swimsuit on, which was easy to see. Another problem was that one of the characters was named Pussy Galore.
Ingrid reminded mom that the Brits had different moral values and humor tastes than we did and stuff like that didn't bother them. I chimed in that a history book I read said that many early silent films had nude scenes featuring big stars like Mary Pickford. Some other stars got involved in huge scandals like Fatty Arbuckle, who was accused (though never convicted) of killing a girl by laying on top of her during sex. American public outrage caused the creation of the Hayes Code, in 1922, which allowed motion picture companies to police their own films and avoid government censorship.
I was surprised because my mom wasn't really as upset after our talk. I think it was mainly because she knew I had read all the Ian Fleming books featuring James Bond. She just wanted to be sure that the film didn't have a negative affect on me after her own experience... As a tween, she read Dracula. It frightened her, but she still went to see the movie with her older sister. She was so scared that she hung garlic strings all around her room and got small wooden crosses to put everywhere, especially by her window and door.
My final movie battle came when they played Rosemary's Baby on TV. The folks didn't want me watching it and I really didn't care if I watched it or not; but Ingrid really wanted to see it. The night it was on TV my folks were at a get together with friends. So, of course, we watched it. I wasn't affected by it because I had been watching horror movies for years.
Ingrid was freaked out by the movie and slept in my bed with me that night. When my parents came home, my mom saw Ingrid was in bed with me and asleep. I was still awake and watching my TV. She just said, “You watched it, didn't you?” I confessed, but made sure that mom knew Ingrid was the one upset by the weird film.
That ended my movie wars. I guess you could say my mom surrendered. She saw I was mature for my age and well behaved, not having been affected by what she considered to be my questionable motion picture choices. I also gave in a bit. My mom, Ingrid and I went to see a re-release of Gone With The Wind during a daytime showing. It was better than I expected, but moved slower than I hoped it would. Later, Disney won me back with fun flicks like The Parent Trap, That Darn Cat, The Barefoot Executive, The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes and so on.
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