It was on his hospital room TV last night.
“It was ingenious,” he says.
You nod and try not to say anything.
“So well thought out, the way it moved among all those levels within levels of consciousness,” he continues, rasping now.
Say, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“And just a riveting action movie to boot,” he adds. “Maybe the smartest, most exciting action movie ever.”
“Can I get you anything from the cafeteria?” you ask, trying to change the subject.
“You didn’t like it?” your Dad says.
You shrug coyly. He gets the picture.
“I can see why you might not have liked it,” your Dad says. “You were always a simpler kid. Never really interested in being challenged by a movie.”
That’s it.
“Look, I spent half of 2010 listening to idiots tell me that because I didn’t like a movie that had to use clumsy exposition to spell out what was happening in every goddam scene, I’m the one who’s not intelligent. Maybe people who liked Inception are the ones who aren’t smart because they’re so easily manipulated by a movie that’s more concerned with insisting to the audience how smart it is than with being entertaining.”
Your Dad is silent for a minute. Then…
“I’m on my fucking deathbed here.”
“I know, it’s just…”
“You tell me you don’t think I’m smart? When I’m on my deathbed? Just because I liked a movie I saw on TNT?”
You’re ashamed.
“I’ll admit all that snow shit looked like an assy Bond movie,” your Dad will say.
“Thank you!” you’ll shout. Then you’ll hug him. Everything will seem okay but he’ll die knowing what your opinion of him is.
Happy Your Dying Dad Wants To Talk About “Inception” Day!
