Not only did I lose 45 minutes of my life (and, since I am in my mid-50s, every minute counts), now I have some deeply disturbing images and dialogue in my head. I may never be able to forget it.
It all started innocently enough.
The Fourth of July holiday week has been hot and humid here in the upper Midwest. A movie seemed to be our best option for staying cool and enjoying some entertainment. Which movie? Searching online, I found what looked like a fun summer romp: Ted, starring Mark Wahlberg and Mila Kunis. Currently tops at the box office, Ted is about a grown man whose best friend since childhood is a talking teddy bear.
I'll admit, the reviews were mixed with some critics giving it only two stars. Yet, other reviewers, like Besty Sharkey of the Los Angeles Times, thought Ted was great, and the Minneapolis Star Tribune gave it a glowing review.
So did Roger Ebert.
Roger wrote, "The funniest movie character so far this year is a stuffed teddy bear. And the best comedy screenplay so far is Ted, the saga of the bear's friendship with a 35-year-old man child."
I should note that I greatly admire Roger Ebert, and have found his movie critiques to be spot-on over the years. With Roger's endorsement, our little trio trundled off to see Ted. Everything was great at the beginning. While the theater seats are circa 1950, the air conditioning was cranked up high and the popcorn was tasty. As the movie opened, we chuckled as the teddy bear that came alive -- this movie was clever! Could this flick be in the same league as The Hangover?
After 20 minutes, we knew it wasn't. As an adult bear, Ted, was downright nasty. The jokes were vile and disgusting. It had to get better, right? After all, Roger sang its praises.
It didn't get better.
Ted is rude, crude and lewd. Actually, that can be a great combination and make for a really funny movie, however it must also be well-edited and humorous. Ted is neither. We were groaning, not laughing. My sister and I whispered back-and-forth: "What do you think?" "This is horrible!" "Should we leave?" None of us wanted to be the one to make the decision, so we stuck it out much longer than any of us wanted to.
Finally, we left. It's the first time I walked out of a movie in years.
We all agreed that Roger Ebert owes us a refund.
So, Roger. Send me a message, a tweet or a comment. I'll tell you where to forward the check and we'll call the matter closed. Believe me, you don't want to get my attorney involved. You see, he also saw the movie, and thought it was gross. And, guess what: His name happens to be Ted. Attorney Ted is none too pleased with you right now.
Contact me now, Roger, and we don't have to involve lawyer Ted. Really, it would be better that way.