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Monday, May 2, 2011

Never Say Never

Never Say Never.jpg

While Navy Seals were busy killing Osama Bin Laden, I went to the cinema to watch Justin Bieber. I was completing my challenge. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who has taken me up on my challenge, but that's ok, I guess I'm just the only brave person who reads my blog. That's fine, you pansies, that's why I have a hairy chest and you don't.

I went to Event Maquarie. The first step was to go buy a ticket. I decided to go to the earliest session of the day. I figured 10:30am on a Monday was the time I was least likely to be stuck in a cinema full of Beiberised 12 year-old girls.

I lined up and spent the entire time in the line trying to figure out whether to ask for a ticket to just plain Never Say Never or to say something ironic and witty. I couldn't think of anything ironic and witty but I couldn't bring my self to call the movie by it's proper title just like I refuse to ask for a Brekky to GoGo at Boost juice. I ended up asking for "One to the Bieber movie."

I was expecting the woman to mock me or something but, like a true professional, she just gave me my ticket and asked where I'd like to sit. I said the middle, not that I was planning on sitting there. I had designated seating.

I took my ticket but no 3D glasses as I had my 3D glasses already in my pocket. Prepared like a scout, you wimps!

The next obstacle was getting past the ticket collector without being laughed at or jeered for being a grown man going to see Bieber in concert on a screen. The ticket collector, she was also very professional, didn't mock me once. I suspect it was all her experience collecting tickets for people going to see things like The Hottie of the Nottie and Sex and the City 2 which stopped her from grabbing her walkie talking and informing all her fellow staff members that there was creepy bearded man off to watch a tweenie girl's movie in 3D.

As I stood there embarrassed by my situation I realised that there is no ironic way to have your ticket ripped.

My last challenge was to make it into the cinema undetected. Happily I'd arrived late so the lights were already down and I could sneak in. As it turned out there was only one other person in the cinema. They were sitting right up the back. I pretended not to notice them and they pretended not to notice me. We had an unspoken agreement. We were like next-door neighbours passing in a porn shop.


Despite the rigmarole, I actually quite enjoyed the movie. I wasn't sure what I'd think of the movie. I never thought it'd be terrible. My embarrassment at seeing the movie had nothing really to do with the quality of the movie or Justin Bieber as a performer. It was only really that I was doing something that I really shouldn't be doing. I was doing something made for girls who are somewhere in-between ponies and vodka cruisers not for men who are somewhere in-between balding and a mortgage.

Anyway, it was an interesting movie. It gave me a good insight into Justin Bieber and what he's all about. From a youth ministry perspective it helped me understand teenage girl obsession a bit too. Also from a youth ministry perspective I left feeling pretty worried about what this life must be doing to the poor kid. To be literally worshipped by millions of girls must screw with the young man's head. From what I could see in the film, he has a solid bunch of people around him who keep in generally grounded. There seem to be some strong Christians there including his mum, so I'm hoping they work on him to keep him humble.

Bieber's music is pretty bland, but he is clearly pretty talented. The film itself is part concert film, part documentary about his rise to fame. The documentary bit was pretty interesting, the concert got a tad boring. I was ready for the film to end after about an hour.

Perhaps most interesting, and most embarrassing, is that the film did make me a tad emotional. Actually not a tad. I cried. Real tears. I know, it's terrible, and that's why I'm writing this so late in the post and hoping everyone has stopped reading by now.

There's a scene where Justin sings One Less Lonely Girl. During the concert the production team pick one girl out of the audience and invite her on to the stage with Bieber. She sits on a stool on the stage and he sings to her and gives her a bunch of flowers and dances around her. The scene in the film becomes a montage of girls getting given the chance to get sung to by their idol Justin Bieber, there is a lot of screaming and tears. And somehow, somehow in all that emotion, music, and in the joy of seeing all these young ones have their dreams come true, I got a lump in my throat and a few droplets of salt water trickled down from behind my 3D glasses into my lap. It was embarrassing and lovely all that same time. So emotionally confusing for a man like me.

I learnt then that there's no ironic way to cry during a Justin Bieber movie.

When the film was done, I left. I tried to sneak out without running into a cinema worker who might notice my puffy eyes. I think I was successful which is lucky, because despite all their professionalism and training I'm not sure they could have let that breach of manly conduct pass without out some public humiliation.

So did I learn from the experience? Yes I did. I learnt a lot. I learnt about Bieber. I learnt about the people who love Bieber. I learnt about facing your fears. And I learnt that if Beiber ever picks me out of the crowd for One Less Lonely Girl there is no way I'm going to be able to hold it together. I'm gonna be a blubbering mess.

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