Dont worry. Jude Law totally has a license for slicing people open in graphic, graphic detail.
  • Don't worry. Jude Law totally has a license for slicing people open in graphic, graphic detail.

Back to the Future is wrapping up its run at the Laurelhurst this week—it plays tonight, tomorrow, and Thursday at 9:40, and then that's it. Go while you can—because, as I discovered last night, it's every bit as awesome as I thought it was when I was a kid.

A small and unasked-for glimpse into what made me the man I am today: Both Back to the Future and Teen Wolf came out in '85, and both films led my five-year-old self to boldly proclaim to my mother, with utter earnestness, "Michael J. Fox is my hero." Not Marty McFly, and not Scott Howard, but Michael J. Fox, because this guy was somehow both of them: This was one man who was, apparently, a time-traveling, skateboarding, basketball-playing werewolf. My point is this: Go see Back to the Future while it's still on the big screen, 'cause seeing it big and with a happy crowd is a total blast, and also because it will remind you of the inspiring heroicness that is Michael J. Fox.

Another point: DO NOT TAKE YOUR MOTHER TO REPO MEN. I saw Repo Men at Pioneer Place on Sunday afternoon (Ned reviewed it here), and I was kind of meh on it for its first two thirds, during which it mostly just feels like a retread of Minority Report. But then the film's final third kicked in, and... well, not to give anything away, but holy shit. It gets so insanely bloody and creepy and funny and weird and balls out, mashing up ludicrous action and creepy body horror and dark comedy and weird sex stuff into a jaw-dropping climax. It's the sort of film that's crazy to watch at a corporate megaplex, because you're bewildered that anyone at a major studio greenlit it. After that final-act chaos, I walked out surprised and happy and creeped out—but the best part, after all of that, was walking into the theater lobby and seeing a shaken, shell-shocked sixtysomething woman and her sheepish thirtysomething daughter also leaving the Repo Men auditorium, with the daughter simply saying:

I'm so sorry, mommy. I didn't know.

So yeah. Sunday afternoon matinees with your mother? Delightful! Good on you. Taking her to see Repo Men? Probably not the best idea. That's what they made The Blind Side for.