No Spoilers please

I had my spoilers when I was a child. Spoilers of another kind. They spoiled the cinema for me, and gave me a lifelong aversion to, especially, action films. Celebrations of jingositic bellicosity, thinly disguised as memorials to the fallen, have never sat comfortably. Action men had the latterly identified toxic masculinity biting at their heels. Misogynistic traits typically seen in James Bond and The Saint have become more obvious across the years. Wasn't that Roger bloke in both?: Roger by name, roger by ... I think we'll leave that one there. I was never comfortable with the ilk even then.

I was seven when I first went to the cinema. The film happened to have been Meredith Wilson's The Music Man (1962): 76 trombones, the Buffalo Bills and all that. Partly a celebration of close harmony singing, perhaps it was the notion of harmony in all its manifold meanings that has/have stayed with me.

But I also remember a film I never saw, ever.  I can still hear, from 54 years ago, the voice of a contemporary at school asking "Have you seen The Bridge at Remagen yet?". I still hear my reply: "What do you mean, 'yet'? I have no intention of ever seeing it". He also invited me to join his family in monthly re-enactments of the 1943 Dambusters raids on the Ruhr dams. Accompanied by an EP (remember those?) of Eric Coates' eponymous march, an Airfix Lancaster bomber was held above their dining room floor. Underneath was a hard rubber bouncy "super ball". On cue, it was dropped to the carpet where it bounced, before demolishing a makeshift dam put together from Nesquik milkshake boxes. Who was the odd one, me or him? Or non-binarily, both? He made German reservoir dams from the boxes, while I made spaceships for Dalek Rolykins (by Marx, but not Karl). I hear that, sadly, after all these years, my former friend still inhabits his same family home, alone. But I write these blogs.

I rarely go to the cinema these days. No need to apologise to the industry for any detriment to their business, as the few readers of this blog won't make an iota of difference. I'm grateful to be partnered with someone who shares my sentiments. She invariably, on those rare occasions, finds herself sitting behind a tall person with big hair, sandwiched between popcorn and burger eaters, and in front of someone talking smartly on their ignorant phone (or vice versa). And that's at a genteel gig by a symphony orchestra.

The last film we watched together at a matinee was Bohemian Rhapsody. Afterwards in the pub, before the train home, we met some people on their way to the evening screening. "Don't tell me he dies at the end" they said."No spoilers".

LINKS

The Bridge at Remagen (1969) - IMDb
Name-dropping on the edge of music. (cambriancrumbs.blogspot.com)
Super Ball - Wikipedia
Nesquik Milkshakes, Nesquik Cereals and Nesquik Desserts
A08013A Avro Lancaster B.III (airfix.com)
1965 Rolykins Box By Marx Toys - Retro Toy Revivals