Against my better judgment, this weekend I agreed to go see “Lady in Black” with a group of my friends. Any of you who know me personally, or have ready my blog for a while, know that I DO NOT like NOR do I watch scary/horror movies... I can vividly recall the last horror movie that I was foolish enough to go see, Devil; and, let me tell you - I swear the Devil himself personally followed me home after that movie. I didn’t sleep for three days! You would have thought that I learned my lesson, but no, I’m a total glutton for punishment. I spent 40% of the movie staring at my hands or the corner of the wall, then about 15% of the movie taking off my glasses and cleaning them so that the image on the screen would be fully distorted and less intense. It wasn’t the best movie ever, it wasn’t the worst movie ever, it was simply a typical horror movie.
In true Dallasite style, let me tell you how I would have ended it, had I been the writer. [SPOILER ALERT] In the end, I would have let that crazy ass bitch return to some sibilance of normal and have been satisfied with getting the remains of her son back in the coffin with her. No need to kill poor Daniel Radcliffe or his little boy. As so, at the very end of the movie, when the main character and his son wake up after being hit by the train, I would have had the wife/mother tell them that it wasn’t their time and she loved them, yada, yada, yada, and then cut back to real life where the man and his son are okay, narrowly avoiding death by the train, annnnddddddd…scene!
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