So, went to see Sicko with Friend #3, also known as Marcia, Marcia, Marcia Cohen-Leibowitz-Rothschild-Guilerstein, my friend who is incidentally of the Jewish Persuasion.
I feel I need to mention Marcia is an Individual of the Jewish Persuasion, because after this story you might think she's African-American and escaped another type of ghetto entirely. This is because Marcia seems to believe in the African-American tradition of Talking Back to The Movie Screen.
I think Talking Back to The Movie Screen started in the eighties, or else perhaps I just visited the dollar cinema in my home suburb of Florissant in the eighties. I was with a friend, and some girl on-screen decided to talk to some dirtbag of a man, and someone in the audience ROARED at the screen, "Nuh-unh, girl, don't you fall for that!" And others chimed in! "Whoo, he's a dog!" "Don't go there!" - It was quite surprising. I didn't care if I experienced that movie in my little self-absorbed shell, so it was pretty entertaining, but I think my equally white girlfriend was taken aback. I visited the theater down by Union Station once, and found the same experience, but that's the only other time. Still, I generally don't go to the movies because of the noise, even the white-bread-topped-with-crushed-soul suburban level of noise. Even if one white whisper in the silence hits my ears it is deafening to me.
I think Marcia usually has had the same movie experiences, because a few people sitting behind us talked during the previews and she announced "Oh, give it a rest." Pointedly. I leaned forward and scoped out alternate seats. The cinema put up its "Please be quiet and respectful of others during the movie" and if I recall correctly, Marcia said "Amen!" loudly. Poin.Ted.Lyyyyyyyyy.
Now, before you make any assumptions, don't think the Talkers Behind Us were of any interesting ethnic variety. I didn't see them, but I doubt they were, because we were in croquet-mallet-up-your-ass-West County. If they were it was immaterial, because they stayed pretty quiet. Until partway through the movie -- when Marcia saw Dick Cheney.
"HHHHIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Marcia hissed.
"Heh" said the people behind us, quietly.
Then Marcia saw G.W.Bush.
"ASSHOLE," Marcia barked, loudly, even louder than she had previously Hissed or given up her Amen.
"Rrraararararr" grumbled the others in the cinema. "RARARRARARARARRARRararararar!"
By the end of the movie, everyone was following Marcia's lead and talking back to the screen. I don't know if Marcia noticed, because she was having her own exclusive in-depth conversation with Michael Moore by that time.
Michael said, "They want us to fear -"
"Mm-hmm. Yup" Marcia agreed.
"And they want us to keep silent - " Michael tried to add.
"Mnmmm-hmmn. That's right!" Sistah Marcia muttered.
And she kept agreeing with Michael, not that I wasn't agreeing with Michael, but I knew Michael wasn't there and that he could not hear me. A detail. This escaped everyone else. By the time they got to Cuba everyone was talking amongst themselves and at the screen.
I whooped it up a little, but I couldn't keep up with the disgust the People Behind Us expressed when Michael Moore showed the excellent free health care the Guantanamo Bay prisoners are granted.
"RAArarararRRRAARRARArr!" the People Behind Us grumbled, "No!" "Give me a break!" "Disgusting!" "RARRARArr!"
"Geneva Convention?" I thought quietly, "Have you not heard of it? Are you too young? RARArr!"
At any rate, I really enjoyed the movie. And if you haven't seen it, be sure to stay for the credits. It inspired me to call up Cigna tomorrow and question their claim that my pharmacy was out-of-network, I can tell you that. And it made me very, very happy my MS flared up for the first time five days after I started with an insurance company. I don't think I'd even made my first payment and I hit them up for a hospital bill and my first of many years of injectables. Bwhahaha!