Saw The New World on the big screen again last night, at Seattle’s Crest cinemas.
It was a terrible print. Muted colors. The sound of a needle scratching across an old LP ran through the whole film.
And yet, I feel even more deeply in love.
Behind me sat a family — mom, dad, and three kids. This had worried me as the film opened. Were young children up for such a long, slow-moving film? Could they quiet down and refrain from spoiling it for everyone?
Surprisingly, they were silent throughout the film. Aside from a belching grandmother on my right, and the usual cell-phone ringing somewhere, the screening ran without interruption.
As soon as it ended, and the credits rolled, the father of the family leaned forward and asked his young daughter, “So, what did you think?”
“Long,” she sighed wearily.
He nodded, and asked her if it had given her some idea about what life was like in the 1600s. I didn’t hear her reply.
Then he turned to his young son, who I guess was around seven years old.
“Devon, what did you think of it?”
The boy replied with great enthusiasm. “Daddy! I found a nickel on the floor!!“