City of Ember

Last month I drove in Arlington, a close-in suburb of Boston, to see this with my nine-year-old nephew. He had really wanted to see it, and I was pleased to have the opportunity to spend time with him. I think he made his friends in fourth grade jealous by getting to go.

Our target was the mighty old Capitol Theater (street view), an aging urban mutliplex that, like the West Newton Cinema, presents only a small frontage area to the street. Inside one finds a long hallway parallel to the street that leads to the doors of the auditoriums.

City of Ember was showing in one of the smaller auditoriums. As we walked down the hall, we passed the open door that lead to an alcove in what was obviously their flagship theater---the massive old opera house kind. It was empty and silent. My nephew was amazed. He'd never seen anything like it. He wanted to know why they weren't showing our movie in there. I explained to him that they probably use it only on special occasions, when they know that a lot of people are coming.

I'd seen this movie listed on MovieWeb for upcoming releases in limited markets, but by the time I got to Boston, it had developed a mini-cult status that was sustaining it in theaters. I could see why. It is very high concept, set in the post-post-apocalypse world, far into the future, when memories of the "before" time have been forgotten. Most of the action takes place underground.

One of my favorite scenes comes right at the beginning, showing the equivalent of the high school graduation ceremonies of the distant future, when teenagers are assigned their work roles for life. They draw their dreary jobs by lot out of a hat. The choices are fixed and permanent, and have nothing to do with their talents or desires.

The movie is not particularly deep, since it is meant primarily for children, but on that level, it succeeds wonderfully. The story is a Plato's Cave variation, where it is the innocence and curiosity of the children that allow them to see beyond the limits of the (literally) enclosed world in which everyone exists. The plot revolves around whether the hero and heroine will discover the secret of the city, as well as the exit to the above-ground world. The art direction is impeccable and deserving of award nominations. All in all, a very visually pleasing concept. Good and evil are portrayed in fairly obvious terms befitting a kid's movie. Bill Murray is funny in a comically non-demanding role as the villain. All in all, it was pretty cool.

My nephew really liked it and wanted to see it again.

Unfortunately for me, I let my nephew choose our seating at the beginning of the show at the Capitol Theater. He wanted to sit in the back row, where we subjected all during the showing to the loud obnoxious kid talking full-voice who seemed to need to comment on every action in the movie to his friends beside him. The mother of one of them sat in front of them and did nothing but jump up every five minutes like a business class flight attendant and ask if they wanted anything. She kept zipping in and out of the theater to get more goodies. The fucking kid was really cramping my style.

At some point he looked around and caught my cold steely gaze. Even in the dark from across the aisle, I could see that he understood my dark, dark thoughts about him. Although he didn't stop talking, he lowered his volume just a tad. He kept looking around nervously at me for the rest of movie. Whenever he caught my eye, I made sure to scowl with as mean an expression as I could muster.

Just doing my part for future generations of moviegoers.