The More Things Change...


Back in those late Depression days and just before the War ratcheted up, my parents would splurge and take us all to a “feel good” movie to help us forget the feelings that the economic doldrums engendered.

This was a big deal—especially for a little kid in a Depression home. Money was tight. And going out to the movies was like a celebration. Remember, we didn’t have TV, stereo, cell phones, downloaded tunes, computers, et al.

And the movie theatres themselves were often a treat. Loews theatre’s, for example, resembled some gilded Baghdad bazaar with spiraling towers and lofty balustrades that seemed to rise to the heavens. . We were swept up by the experience only to look up and see moving skies filled with glittering stars that looked like precious jewels.

Our own particular form of escapism those days were the good ole’ Busby Berkley movies featuring towering long-limbed blond dancers with mountains of gorgeous hair, garbed in diaphanous gowns, descending long stair cases emanating from the clouds on to a fantasy set of marble and columns that seemed to stretch into infinity.

These films were also embellished with full orchestral complements and all of the flourishes that satisfied even the most jaded tastes. And always, at the front, was the incomparable Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers making their complex dance scenarios seem as easy as falling off a log. . Fred and Ginger, as good as it got!

Who can forget those times?

And of course it took our minds off hard times, no jobs and those bills you couldn’t pay with a credit card. It just didn’t get any better.

Today, while some question whether we are in a Recession or not, the vast majority of us are feeling the crunch thanks to dwindling jobs, skyrocketing energy costs, rising food prices and people not being able to pay their mortgages.

We have lived through a period of unprecedented growth, easy credit, and now the chickens have come home to roost thanks to an out of touch government and unresponsive leadership..

Yet, today, while we drown in mortgage payments and fuel prices, we are returning to the theaters to pursue the escapism that us old-timers know all about.

In fact, many of us could be consultants on the subject.

The only difference between today and yesterday is that instead of Busby Berkley, it is the Super Heroes who provide solace.

No wonder why Iron Man topped 100 million in the first weekend and did likewise overseas in the same period making it Paramount’s all time top earner, a far cry from those old George Gaby Hayes movies or Joan Leslie or Eddy Cantor B movies that used to entertain us for fifty cents or less when we were kids. ….

Those Super heroes of the late 30’s and early 40’s who emblazoned the comics my dad tossed out on me when I left to become a hero myself, are now writ large on ten thousand screens across the country to bring in a new era of entertainment, and lest we forget, profits.

It seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Except instead of Ginger and Fred, it’s the kid’s heroes of our day filling contemporary screens. We old-timers could have told them that one day our heroes would be everyone’s heroes.

What will the social scientists who dig up the detritus of our society make of this?

That many of us are addicted to super heroes to effectuate super sized solutions to resolve the challenge is reminiscent of the Ancient Greek approach to tragedy where a deux ex machine, a solution that is extraneous and unexpected, arises in the last act that effectuates a resolution. And that was 5,000 years ago.

That may be the case, but who cares?

The only thing that is important is that Spidey rescue the fair maiden from the clutches of that evil Doctor So and So.

In that not much has changed.

And perhaps more than anything else, it is our continuing preoccupation with heroes and heroism that says more about us than anything else.

I’d like to continue this exploration with you, but I’ve got my senior ticket in hand and the Matinee is due to start in five minutes.

Up, up and Away!

Les Aaron