I do a vast majority of things alone. I dine alone, vacation alone, roam New York City alone. I really don’t mind it, in fact I find it necessary at times. This must be the only child in me. One thing I particularly enjoy doing alone is going to the movies. The bemused feedback I’ve received about this subject is particularly surprising given the fact that going to the movies is about the LEAST awkward thing you can do by yourself. Talking is the last thing you’re supposed to do at the movies! I’ve always thought that going to the movies on a date is almost an insult. How are you supposed to get to know someone while sitting next to them in silence for two hours? Anyway, back to my point, I encourage everyone to see a movie by themselves. Think about it – you get to chose the movie YOU want to see and eat the snacks of YOUR choice. No sharing. (Again, the only child in me comes out…)
Tonight I saw “Hello, My Name is Doris.” The Rotten Tomatoes generous tomatometer score was a major factor in this screening decision and I agree with the critics’ consensus. Sally Field gave us major grandma goals as she braved public transportation after hours like a true New Yorker, danced in a neon jumpsuit at a gritty Brooklyn concert hall, and fantasized over a handsome colleague some thirty years her junior. What struck me most about the storyline though was how relatable her character was. When you peel away the layers you’re left with a person who misread a relationship and mistook amicable gestures as signs of love. It was a bit heart wrenching to watch. Sal Gal, we’ve all been there!