After a year of waiting and about a week of hype, we managed to make it to the theatre for an afternoon showing of the final installment of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Return of the King. I had been quite eager to see this film since we had just managed to get through the extended version of The Two Towers, with all the extra footage and behind the scenes stuff. What I didn't know, is that the film was three and a half hours long, not counting the twenty minutes of trailers.
Let me start at the beginning. We planned on seeing the 2:00pm showing of the film so we arrived at around 1:30 to get some tickets. There was already a line outside, but it was for ticket holders only so Rosie went to get the tickets while I went to park the car. Upon my arrival, I learned that the movie actually was scheduled to start at 2:30pm and not 2:00pm, which wasn't really a big deal, it just meant standing outside the theatre, with a bunch of kids that should have been in school and a bunch of adults who should have been at work. After a short while we were allowed to enter and we went to get our seats. I was a little thirsty so I volunteered to get some beverages. I purchased a medium for myself because it looked big enough and I didn't have enough money for anything more. I returned to my seat and slowly sipped my beverage while being advertised to for at least half an hour. By the time the trailers started I had finished my drink and was ready to give the film my full attention.
The first hour was quite excellent, with lots of action and cool effects and stuff. I did, at this point, start to feel a slight amount of pressure in my bladder area but there was too much going on and I'd paid $10.50 for a matinee so I was going to try and wait it out, so as not to miss anything. What followed can only be described as an adventure all it's own, with dizzying highs and sorrowful lows. The movie was now locked in a fierce battle with me, and my will not to pee my pants. It kept throwing out spellbinding scene after scene in an attempt to keep me in my seat and, in all likelihood, rupture my bladder. We had reached the three hour point of the film when, realizing that the film still had thirty minutes to go, my resolve crumbled and my bloated midsection screamed in agony. I had to go, there was no stopping it. Damn you, Peter Jackson!
I was certain that I would have to urinate for the entire twenty five minutes that remained in the film and I would miss the conclusion I had waited so long to see. I was quite surprised to find myself on my way back in to the cinema after only a five minute absence. What did I miss? I guess I won't know until the DVD comes out. I didn't actually return to my seat however, as my abdomen was thoroughly aching, I decided to stand at the side to finish watching the film. As I stood there barely aware of the movie in front of me, I seriously thought that I had done some irreparable internal damage to myself. To this day I can honestly say that I have never held so much liquid within my person for so long.
So what did I think of the movie? It was okay. I think movies have the power to evoke a variety of emotions, to make you happy or sad, angry or hopeful. What I didn't expect was this movies ability to make me feel pain like I've never felt before. The film refused to end. Just when you thought, "Well, that about wraps that up!", it just kept on going. I joked later that if Peter Jackson really wanted to do me in he would have had most of the action at the end of the movie take place in front of a waterfall or a rushing river. Although, I expect that would have emptied the theatre. I don't think I was alone in my misery.