Like all people who desire something besides re-runs on TV and are not willing to take a lengthy walk, we have been going to see the big name summer movies.
Some are worth the walk from the car to the theater. Some are not. Recently we found ourselves before the silver screen to watch “Snow White and the Huntsman”. All the actors are easy on the eyes and the action is fast. The special effects are effective.
After the movie we talked about how much we have changed. In our youth, we could identify with an actor on the screen.
My husband always felt pulled toward the warrior figure. Either the archer or the man fighting valiantly with a lethal sword—those were the characters to which he aligned himself.
I was never the heroine, but I was her darn cute friend, the spunky side-kick who supported the star and kept her safe.
But now? We looked at each other and burst out laughing.
I told my husband that we were one of the townspeople who lined the streets as the heroic figures rode by. He would a farmer bringing turnips into the village, holding onto the harness of the donkey pulling the cart. Or maybe he was the fishmonger. I don't know.
Me? I was the friendly baker’s wife or the grouchy woman tasked with scrubbing down the cobblestones.
We may stick to Pixar movies for a while. I hear “Madagascar 3” is okay.
