Joyfully shameless

I've had my doubts about how big of a film fan my older son is likely to become.

I don't worry quite so much about the six-year-old as the nine-year-old. The younger one has always gravitated a bit more toward long-form content, while his older brother tends to prefer video games during so-called "quiet time" -- the time each day that Mummy and Daddy take for themselves.

But a movie about a kid going up against adult professional wrestlers taught me I may not have anything worry about.

The Main Event on Netflix had been on our radar for a couple months now. My wife told me I recommended it as an option for a sleepover at their auntie's house, but I don't remember that. That viewing didn't happen, but the kids put it on yesterday when we gave them some "quiet time" on a Thursday afternoon after school got out.

I was, of course, not watching with them -- though I suppose I could have been, given my vacuum cleaner mentality toward all movies I haven't seen. I was, however, in the room as the film was reaching its climax, as I was folding laundry while my wife prepared dinner.

The younger one had actually lost interest on this one and was griping about it being "his choose," which is a problematic scenario when you are watching a movie -- one person's "choose," in this case, lasts upwards of 90 minutes.

But the older one was rapt, deeply involved in the story of a very young kid (like, probably my son's age) wrestling someone who was literally five times his weight and twice his height. The visual was so funny that I laughed, thinking it had to be intended as a joke (and Ken Marino was in the scene on the sidelines, increasing the association with comedy). But my son wasn't laughing as he remained deeply invested in the film's climax.

There were three things I took from observing my son during the last 15 minutes of this film:

1) Even though I was laughing, and even though that was not apparently the correct reaction to the material, my son didn't shoosh me or tell me I was ruining the viewing. And believe me, he's capable of that. No, he just continued watching.

2) He similarly was not bothered by my hovering. You can't fold laundry without hovering, and I know it would drive me to distraction if my wife were doing that while I was watching a movie, especially its ending. (Or if my kids were doing it, but ... that would never happen.)

3) When the inevitable triumphant finish arrived, my son yelled out "Yes!!" and had a big goofy grin on his face. He didn't look around to notice who had caught him out getting caught up in the big climax. He was just joyfully shameless.

Any time you can become so transported by the ending of a movie like The Main Event, there's no end to the possibilities for your future as a cinephile.

I hope he maintains this joyful shamelessness throughout the rest of his viewing career.