Well, we had to go. Chuck had such a raving review for the flick, even paying to get his critique in an ad in the paper. And then we found out he had to practically beg his owners to get the film for his theater.

So.

It was good. Not great, mind you, but good. Certainly better than War of the Worlds. Which, I admit, isn't saying much.

Better than The Fantastic Four?

Well, probably, but if I had to choose between seeing either one again, I probably choose the Four. Just because I was such a fan growing up.

But don't let anyone tell you this isn't a "boxing" flick.

It is. Heavily, near the end. And the wife hates boxing movies (which is why we still haven't seen Million Dollar Baby). But this one, she didn't mind so much.

Now, if we could just get some people to realize watching a film in a theater with other viewers is not like watching it in your living room. The rest of us do not want to hear your thoughts on the plot, or guesses of what is coming up next, mister.

Since there was still one film running, Chuck was in his usually chatty mood when we came out of our theater (last, of course, since only we stayed for the credits). As we talked about Academy Awards and coming releases, the wife handed our friend two of her Junior Mints.

Which he gladly took, but then recoiled as soon as they touched his fingers.

"Didn't you just come from the toilet?" he asked, in real alarm.

"I washed my hands", the wife answered indignantly.

With soap, I'm sure, I added.

Oh, and should I mention the manager came into the only partially filled theater and asked a fellow if his group would mind shuffling down one seat?

Yeah, sure, I suppose all theater managers would do that so a handicapped person could sit on the aisle seat next to their escort.

But would he be able to ask the folks by name in your town?