Last Saturday, I took the family downtown for a joyous jaunt through our lovely sustainable city. We gazed in awe at Portland’s inarguably wonderful mass transit system, and our mouths watered when we walked past the city’s delightful and quirky food carts! YUM! Multiculturalism! Sadly the carts were closed for business on this Saturday night. (Oh no!)
As we continued winding our way through the tree-lined streets and pedestrian-friendly city blocks, we took in the obvious holiday cheer of our adopted hometown. True, you can never escape motorists in the city — even in a majestic frontier like Portland — but most drivers compensate for their greenhouse gas emissions with snappy bumper stickers that contain laugh-inducing quips about the political opposition! Yes!
O! The vibes were good were good this night. (When nobody was looking, I goosed my wife’s bottom! Ha! What fun!)
I did hear some salacious talk between profane thugs and a nearby street trollop. But that’s OK! On this night, all of Portland’s warts were as comely and delightful as its assets!
We soon made a beeline for the Pioneer Courthouse Square Starbucks, where we consumed Venti White Chocolate Mocas and Rice Krispie treats. At this lovely coffee shop, we engaged in some “people watching” (a spectator sport here in Portland!). My wife and I also discussed the myriad green attributes of our metro-hamlet. The boy listened on with curious ears, eager to know more about the utopia he calls home!
As we happily exited the cafe, we had a healthy spring in our step. A gallop enhanced by the invigorating cold air of November!
Oh! We knew joy. We knew it well that night!
We strolled through the cityscape a bit longer, marveling at the explosion of late autumn colors. Particularly striking in Portland this time of year are the local veganarchists, whose bodily orifices sprout spectactular, kaleidoscopic foliage. Magenta, silver, crimson, chartreuse — thrilling! Our eyes lit up even more when we walked by a local movie house and saw this fantastical site:
My goodness! It was Bob Zemeckis‘ 2009 take on the Charles Dickens classic! My heart started pounding with excitement! I felt as though a triphammer would rip through my breastplate!
The film was slated for a 7 p.m. start time, and by golly, it was quarter to! Such good fortune! We had more than enough time to purchase our tickets from the kempt young man at the box office, buy some popcorn and sit down to a time-tested classic! ”This will be fantastic!” I squealed. (My 5-year-old is a big fan of Zemeckis’ POLAR EXPRESS film, so I knew we were in for a wholesome evening of cinematic wonder and fun.)
Or so we thought!
As the film started, we saw actor/lunatic Jim Carrey pulling coins off a rotting corpse’s eyeballs in between breaths of cold, deathly air. “Daddy, is this a film for kids?” my 5-year-old asked. “Umm, yeah; you’ll see. It will be really cool!“ I chirped.
So…I waited for the wintry delights so ingrained and commonplace in the uncanny valley of Zemeckis’ POLAR EXPRESS. I waited SO long!
Yet I saw no winter cheer or holiday fun.
Instead, my family was “treated” to sad spirits draped in chains and agony! Terrifying ghouls! Eternal suffering! The glowing embers of Hell flickering beneath coffins. Satanic Old Testament images jizzing all over my face!!!!
????????? WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON ?????????????
I’m not joking when I say the film was an industrial accident away from equalling the mood of THE DARK KNIGHT. This would be OK if my child were not present. Most of my favorite films are a bit on the “dark” side, after all.
But for fuck’s sake, I didn’t know Zemeckis was shooting for a Cronenberg or Lynch aesthetic. Was a terrifying scene behind the dumpster at Winkies coming next??
My tough little guy looked on with no fear, though. In fact, he shocked me with his brave expressions. Even though the film played like a bad psilocybin trip, the boy had no desire to leave. He wanted to see if Ebenezer Scrooge was going to become a good man! That is intellectual courage, my friends! If only most adults could exhibit this lion-hearted worldview!
Still, the darkness was unrelenting. At one point, Carrey’s Scrooge character shrunk down to a helium-voiced mini-man and was chased through town by apocalyptic black horses, screeching evil spirits and a dirty sewer rat. This shrunken man aesthetic evoked memories of MULHOLLAND DRIVE and the elderly couple who inexplicably turn into nightmarish micro-people and prompt Naomi Watts to BLOW HER GODDAMN HEAD OFF.
YULETIDE MOTHERFUCKING FUN, ZEMECKIS!
Sometimes the creepiness hit an awfully sad note. In one scene, Scrooge noticed that the Ghost of Christmas Present had gnarled little claws emerging from his man-dress. The Ghost told Scrooge that the fleshy claws belonged to Ignorance and Want, i.e. two emaciated demon-waifs who grasped at the screen and twisted my soul into a pretzel-shaped urn. A pretzel-shaped urn of death!
GOOD GRIEF is what I was said! Immediately after the film ended, I scrawled an angry note to Bob Zemeckis on my popcorn napkin and presented it to the usher. The perplexed teen looked startled as I said “Give this to the director! ON BEHALF OF ME!”
The family and I then went home to sleep, perchance to dream…about SEWER RATS, DEATH…and rubber-faced Jim Carrey and his anti-vaccination rubbish.
EGAD!
To lessen my sorrows, I spent the rest of the night penning a love letter to the verdant chia people of Portland. I decided to call it “Portland: a Big City w/ Tiny Eco Footprints!” My carbon-neutral brothers and sisters deserved a shout-out, dammit. THEY are the true heroes of Christmas! A VERY GREEN CHRISTMAS!
