I don’t ever remember not going to the movies. That means I must have been one of those noisy children, sitting up in the R rated movies. That means you’ve hated me before. Or I’ve hated me. Either way it goes, I have seen MOVIES. A LOT OF MOVIES. Very rarely did I take them for fact.

I bring this up because I was rehashing the film “The Passion of the Christ” with somebody who said they hadn’t seen it. “Not something you pop in the DVD over a bowl of popcorn,” I say because it really isn’t. It’s violence porn, IMO. But let’s continue. This conversation took me back to another conversation I had a while back (yes this is a double flashback—don’t die). When said movie first came out, there was a “minister” at my job (I’m not sure what kind of “minister” but the um, mall church comes to mind) who was obsessed with the movie. Like I think he mentioned his wife showed in bible study. Like one day he said, “The wife and I like to watch so we know what our Savior went through.” And I said, “Um, you do know it’s not a documentary, right? Because there were NO cameras back then..” I know. I’m a smart ass. BUT, this is a problem that somebody’s not addressing. There are some undercover naive people who believe some movies are REAL!

It’s crazy. I know. I’m about to blow your mind:

Hamlet did not look like Mel Gibson.
Malcolm X was taller than Denzel.
Billie Holiday was NOT as small as Diana Ross.
Sylvia Plath was not as cute as Gweneth Paltrow.

on the other side:

Sarah Michelle Gellar really isn’t Buffy.
Keifer Sutherland doesn’t work for any President.
Tyler Perry is not really a grandmother.

I just wanted to put these things out there. Just in case there’s any confusion. Because once upon a time there was confusion. For me.

That confusion was “Mahogany.”

I thought it was a true story! I thought Diana Ross really did design clothes and Tony Perkins really did go psycho and died in a car. I thought Billy Dee Williams and Diana were a couple. But listen. I didn’t write her asking for one of her strange kimono outfits she designed. I damn sure didn’t write and ask why she was wearing a mink at the unemployment office. Here’s my excuse: I was about five when I saw it. My only real connection to the movie was the fact that she and my Mom had the same fly wig (a la Kelly from Charlie’s Angels–FIERCE).

Nowadays we’ve got another epidemic. We’ve got films that a video games that are films that are video games that are films. Confused? Me too. So too are the kids who really think they are “smokin fools” on the PSP, then go see 50 Cent do what they did on their PSP, then maybe think they can do it at the concession stand.

OR…

There are people who boycott movies because they don’t like what they stand for. Munich. People boycotted Munich. Um…It’s a movie. We are not asking to rewrite history so that anybody else’s version of the story is eradicated. It’s entertainment. It’s drama. Nail biting. Uh oh…My other personality is stepping in….

I can see the point of the protestors ONLY because in this country we don’t read books anymore. We only see movies and of course we believe them so therefore anything that comes to the screen with the “based on a true story” replaces the four hundred books on the subject. Gone. Dead. Everything gets all screwy and you hear people saying “Denzel barely even cried when he got beat in Glory! He’s strong!” Uh…He’s an actor. He didn’t get beat. He played someone who got beat. Further, there ain’t NO way I’m going to see United 93. None. Zip. I saw the trailer and I convulsed. I was in New York on 9/11. I walked home. I couldn’t reach my family. I saw the second plane. I didn’t sleep for four days. I breathed in dust of human remains that traveled across Manhattan. I counted my blessings. I cried. I already know how awful it was. I already know that those people on that plane demonstrated a courage that cannot be put into words. And I’m a writer. We don’t need movies to tell us the weight of some things. Word of mouth does just fine.

She told me! My other personality is pretty cool sometimes. By the way, my Mom is the one who told me that Mahogany wasn’t real. I recovered fairly well after a few years of being obsessed with Diana Ross records. You see how resilient we are?