I was going to write my review of The Dark Knight Rises until I saw what happened in Colorado. Now, my critique on a movie seems somewhat insignificant. Before my movie started a guy came in dressed up like Bane. His costume was authentic enough that people in the theater wondered if he was a fan or someone sent by the studio. Some people cheered as he walked in, but I immediately started counting the number of stairs to the exit.
Back in 1990 when The Godfather Part III came out there was a string of incidents where people were opening fire inside movie theaters. It happened three or four times, so at eight years old I added "getting shot" to my list of things that could happen at the movies.
When I got home and saw what happened in Colorado I was saddened by it for a number of reasons, some less obvious than others. I've always acknowledged that maybe I'm a bit paranoid when it comes to the amount of thought I put into personal safety, but I took it in good humor. An overzealous fan comes into a theater dressed like a movie character and I just naturally assume he's a lunatic who could shoot up the place at any minute. Yeah, I'm nuts.
But when I turn on the television and see that a man came in through the emergency exits with a gas mask on and tossed tear gas into the crowd and pulled out an assault rifle and a lot of people just thought it was part of the show...I don't get that sensation of vindication. I don't feel any of the joy that's supposed to come with See, I told you so! Instead I feel deeply disturbed that my most outlandish fears are grounded in reality. I'm saddened that the nightmares of my childhood are real.
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