This post contains spoilers of the movie Tron: Legacy. Do not come up in here if you don’t want it spoiled. Additionally there is some R-rated language ahead. You have been warned.
Dear beloved Hypertransitory readers, I’ve just come back from watching Tron: Legacy. As I was watching it something was bothering me, something in the back of my mind. It was a sour feeling that kind of tainted the movie, because I could see where it was going.
The lesson is this: I’m a crotchety old man, and I MUST LIVE.
Getting Older is a Bitch
You know, it’s funny how your perspectives change as you get older. Back in the days I would watch these horror movies or disaster movies and I’d see how the older people always got churned up into a million pieces and left to die while the young people rode off into the sunset.
When I was in my teens and twenties, well yeah it just seemed like it was only right. The circle of life, right? Damn you old fools, make way so I can LIVE. Right?
Well, no. Actually, let me say this in negro-speak: HELL NO. Hell to the naw.
I’ll be forty in a couple of years and I’m not going out that way. Not the kid. Not me, man. Nope.
What’s even worse than all the old folks being slaughtered is that most of the time they sacrifice themselves for the sake of the young people. More specifically, the young couple in love.
Let me make this clear: all you people in love, that’s great and everything, but I’m not sacrificing a DAMN thing for someone else’s young love.
Straight to HELL with young love. I must LIVE.
It’s your duty to die, old man
Usually the old man or woman (usually old man -maybe in his 50’s or something -but these days anyone over 30 is old in Hollywood) looks on wistfully at the young couple as he knows he’s about to eat it big time. You know how it goes, like he’s trapped himself in the room with the bomb so they can live, or he’s given up his spot on the helicopter so they can fly off while they look down on him like “thanks you old useless bow-legged hunchback snaggle-tooth FOOL.”
That’s when they high-five each other like “damn I can’t believe that old fool did that! YES!”
No wait, what’s even better is when the old person throws themselves in the path of the monster or killer to be ripped apart and devoured so their old and tired (but still delectable) bones can buy the young lovers a few extra seconds to escape death.
AWWWW. How touching.
Man. That was then. I’m not going for this shit anymore. Not anymore.
Time to change it up, Hollywood!
They’ve gotta change it up a little, at least so it’s not so mind-numbingly predictable. You already know who’s gonna die as soon as you get the shake-out of the characters. Just start counting, ok here’s the young lovers, and here’s some moderately young folks that *might* survive, and the rest of these old asses will be getting killed at 10 minute intervals throughout the last half of the film.
See I just wouldn’t let it go down like that. There’s always a choice, like when the old guy is dangling from a cliff, but the young hot chick is also dangling. There’s only seconds to act and the young hero can only save one. What to do? WHAT TO DO??
Well, any respectful old person will just let go and sacrifice himself to spare the young hero this horrible decision, and so they can go on and live their wonderful lives, made all the more poignant by the awful tragedy they have endured…together.
It’s not as awful as the tragedy the old man endured as his bones shattered and broke and his skin ripped off as he screamed like a byatch when he hit the bottom of the cliff when he fell. You can rest assured that the young couple have moved on to the next plot point (or the credits) by the time he hits ground.
If I was in those movies it would go down a little bit different:
Dangling from cliff…
Young Hero: Oh my god, I can’t save you both!!
Young Heroine: I love you so much!!
Me: Hey man, FUCK HER!! Get over here and pull me up, goddamit!!
Young Hero: But John, I have to save her!
Me: I repeat…FUCK…HER!! Now pull me the fuck up! I’m not playin’ around here, man!
Young Heroine: (Breathlessly) I don’t care what happens, as long as YOU live. I love you so much, I remember the first time we kissed..!
Me: Whatever, beotch! You heard her, man, she don’t care what happens, now PULL! ME! UP!!
Look, sorry. I know it’s not very heroic of me, but I’m not very gracious and polite when I’m under duress so you’ll have to forgive me.
Scene change -the aftermath. Me sitting around with my (old) buddies playing cards:
Me: (laughing) Yeah man, he didn’t want to make the choice and pull me up, so I had to lean over and kick that byatch off the side of the cliff.
(everyone laughs, drinks beer)
Me: Yeah he had to pull me up after that. (swigs beer) Young punk.
Friend: Damn, man. Wasn’t he mad?
Me: Yeah he was mad, looking all sad and pouty and shit, so I ended up kicking him down the cliff, too. Put him out of his misery. You know, showed him some mercy.
Friend: You’re a good man, JG.
Me: Yeah, I know. Normally that goes without saying, but it’s nice to hear.
I don’t think we’ll ever see my kind of ending in the Hollywood movies.
Man, I don’t care if I’m 99 years old, can barely see, talk, walk or clean myself – I’m not sacrificing a damn thing. I might have one good year of life left.
Now get over here and change my diaper, already. I just messed myself.