Weary from my elder siblings' hell-raising, drugged-out school years, having employed both carrots and sticks and having been resoundingly flogged with both, Mom threw her hands up and tried a different tactic with her youngest. She proposed an armistice. Maintain a 3.5 GPA, she told me, and you can take as much time off school as you want. This was diabolical. It was freeing yet confining. For her next trick, was she going to buy me as much fudge as I wanted...provided I maintained a 32 inch waist? Nevertheless, I routinely missed about two weeks of school per year. "John is needed at home," Mom would snap at the goose-stepping assistant principal. "Don't call me at work anymore."
Bliss.
Which brings us to the single loudest moment of applause I've ever heard in a movie theatre. We were assembled at the first showing of Return of the Jedi—me, being needed at home; 400 geeks, being 400 geeks. The excitement was just electric, something spiritual, like a religious revival. And when the 20th Century Fox logo went up on the screen, the thunderous roar that resulted shook great volumes of dust from the ceiling. It was like god was dumping a vacuum cleaner bag on us.
The second-most thunderous applause I've heard in a theatre occurred when a clay dog pushed a button and caused his motorcycle sidecar to sprout wings. And if you don't know what I'm talking about, get thee to Wallace and Gromit, and quickly. And if you're at the matinee, look for me.
Eh. It was okay. Certainly not as good as Wrong Trousers or Close Shave. 40 dynamite minutes stretched over 85.