It’s not uncommon then I find myself waiting for a specific movie to arrive in the mailbox in that bright red envelope that’s now almost as familiar as the back of my own hand. Looper was one such movie. This business, unfortunately, happens to me often, probably owing to the fact that Netflix likes to punish “frequent flyers” by making them wait longer for high-interest, recently released films than for users that don’t take quite so much advantage of the as-many-discs-per-month-as-can-physically-be-shipped-to-you-and-back-for-one-fee model.
It’s hell being a consumer these days.
So, yes, unfortunately, whenever there’s a sci-Fi action-y kinda flick just out that’s right, smack in the power zone of my wheelhouse, it can sometimes takes months before it finally makes its way to my mailbox.
But that’s okay, because usually they tend toward they mediocre to disappointing anyway. I mean, I enjoy them well enough to keep trying them, much the way I enjoy a good club sandwich. I mean, turkey, bacon, lettuce, tomato…what’s not to like? But do you truly every really love a club sandwich? No, I’m afraid they’re typically either okay enough to be, well, okay, or they just flat-out disappoint.
Wow, am I comparing things to club sandwiches, now? Is that where this has gone. Next I’ll be relating things to playing bridge at the club on Sunday’s with the ladies of the Rotary Tea. Sweet hairy jeebus, I gotta get a grip on myself before they take away my web address.
Anyway. I (sadly, for many reasons) expected Looper to be that perfectly serviceable club sandwich. But what did I actually think?
Looper threw me for, well, a loop. I expected a guy not shooting his future self while also trying not to get shot*. There’d be standoffs, chases (possibly via rooftop), explosions, quick thinking, and gunfire. Eventually, the selves would team up against The Bigger Bad Guy, Happily Ever After, Amen. I was SO wrong. Sure, there’s some of that, but the real story is much more original and unexpected. And the “Amen” isn’t Happily Ever After. Admittedly, it isn’t perfect; Looper’s real story develops too slowly. But still, it surprised the hell out of me**, and I flat-out enjoyed it.
So, see, it turns out Looper isn’t actually your grandmother’s Bridge-club club sandwich after all. It’s more like that “special” club at the gastro place with the fried egg, the pork belly, and mango-sriracha-chutney or something. Which, you know, damn, sounds pretty good.
Seriously, there any chefs reading this that’d make me one of those? We’ll call it the Puddin Club or something.
You’ll get full credit. I just want to eat the thing.
Anyway, while I’m trying to blaze a path to club sandwich glory, you go watch Looper. It’s worth it.
*If you shoot your future self, or your future self shoots you, is it still suicide? Are we still talking eternal damnation? If only we had a Pope right now to tell us!
**Surprising me with plot is no easy feat. I’ve seen a lot of movies in my time.