Chapter Two: My Origin Story

Grease 2 and Return from Witch Mountain

By Brett Beach

July 8, 2009

I so badly want to Cool Ride-her. This only makes sense if you've seen it and it's still not funny

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My parents have recollections of me at age three chiding them and my older siblings (and any friends of the family/invited guests unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire) for watching movies upon which the sage critics at TV Guide had bestowed two stars or less. Even from an early age, it appears, I took my movie going seriously. By extension, it was suggested that those in my orbit would be wise to do the same. Mom and Dad might be exaggerating, but it wouldn't surprise me if I had already designated myself the arbiter of household tastes at that young age. A love of movies was in my blood (quite literally - my great-grandfather on my dad's side was a projectionist at a film palace in Portland, OR called the Hollywood Theater that operates to this day.)

Now that I have gotten settled in at BOP, I figured that the time was right for a closer look at some items from my formative years that, if they didn't quite shape me into the discerning critic I am today, definitely tilled large tracts of psychic space in my brain. In the grand tradition of comic book limited edition mini-series and movie franchise re-launchings, I present my origin story. Beware, there may be more tangents and spurts of too much information than normal this week!




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It became quickly obvious to me after hitting upon the idea of a column about sequels that there were at least two significant reasons for my interest in the topic. The first, oddly enough, is that in many instances, I have seen the sequel to a film before seeing the original. That's been true of several of the films I have discussed already (Aliens and The Great Muppet Caper chief among them) and will no doubt remain a recurring theme during the foreseeable future. The second has to do with a pair of films that I watched incessantly on HBO in the early ‘80s, before moving from the comfortable plugged-in suburbs of northeastern New Jersey (approx. 36 channels of programming) to a tiny resort community tucked away in the woods of central Oregon (four channels of varying qualities of reception). Yes, as luck would have it, both films are part twos. One of them was until recently the second and final installment of a Disney series. The other is most certainly one of the most reviled sequels ever. Let's begin with the last part first.

Grease 2 (1982)

As I have noted in earlier columns, my parents were very encouraging in regards to my cinematic education throughout my childhood and adolescence. Basically, it was up to me to create my own pop culture celluloid universe with them as benevolent gatekeepers and chaperones. Some notable exceptions are worth discussing. Monty Python and The Holy Grail, despite its PG rating, did not make the grade (when I was six.) Having tried and failed on numerous occasions to get permission, I took to asking my parents early one Saturday morning when they were both still half asleep and susceptible to answering "Yes," no matter what the question may have been. I was able to get over an hour into the most quotable movie of all time before consciousness subsumed grogginess and mother came down and gave me what for.


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