I want to drop what I'm doing and head on down to the local multiplex, because I'm in the mood for two and a half hours of big explosions, clichéd plots, gratuitous sex, and mindless violence. I want to blow ten bucks on a matinee and Coke and popcorn and sit in the seventh row, clogging my arteries with extra butter until the lights go down and the previews roll, telling me what I want to see two months from now. I want to see the kind of movie that critics hate and real people love, an adventure that makes judicious use of the Dolby Digital Surround Sound System, something with sexy heroes battling Commies or mobsters or aliens or just plain old rotten-to-the-core bad guys whose motives we don't have to question. I want to watch my heroes carry out their daring, improbable plan and make narrow escapes and speed through breathtaking chase scenes and fall in love along the way--of course. I want to come away from the exciting conclusion without having to wonder if my heroes will be content now that they've won the day--they'll live happily ever after and make beautiful babies and never be troubled by flashbacks or nightmares or old injuries. And when I walk out of the theatre with my heart pounding and my ears ringing, I want to feel as though I have been saved along with the rest of the world. And you know what? I can't wait for the sequel.

Copyright (c) 2000 by Beth Kinderman. This is my original work, so please respect it.