Movies today with their big budgets and fancy effects really don’t come close to movies of the past.
The other day as I was eating dinner, I was flipping through channels on the TV and discovered that the 1938 rendition of Robin Hood was airing. I ended up watching almost the whole thing. You see Robin Hood has always held a special place in my heart.
I always liked Robin Hood growing up. My first exposure to the legend was seeing part of the animated Disney version at my cousin’s house one day. All I saw was a glimpse of the opening credits. And yet something inside me told me that I needed to know what this movie was. Somehow I must have prevailed upon my parents because they managed to procure a VHS tape from my aunt. Because that’s how we watched movies back then. Movies recorded onto magnetic tape. Because what could possibly be more long-lasting than magnetic tape? But I digress.
I played the crud out of that tape. Over and over and over. Completely wore it out. This was the greatest movie of all time. I literally memorized the Disney version and could (and still can) recite it word for word with character voices and sound effects. I’m not exaggerating. I can do that. And when I do it it’s cool. I was enamored with his bow and arrow, his life of swashbuckling adventure. I made my own bow and arrows out of pencils and rubber bands, or the cooler looking but less structurally sound Construx.
I reenacted Robin Hood’s adventures. I practiced his mannerisms and his suave charisma. I fantasized about finding my own Maid Marian. (I still do. Shutup.) I repeatedly pretended to scale the castle walls and leap off of tall burning towers at the last minute by climbing a trellis on the front porch- which for the record is why the ivy on that particular trellis could never grow nearly as well as the ivy on the other trellis.
My obsession must have become fairly common knowledge because one day when my aunt was watching me, she decided to take me to the old-timey movie theater to see the 1938 version of Robin Hood. I’m not entirely certain how old I was. I’m guessing I must have been around 7 or 8, because the math adds up and my youngest brother would have just been born or about to be born, and it makes sense why my aunt would have been watching me for that length of time.
So off we went. She told me about this old version of Robin Hood and that it was a really great movie. She told me about the old theater and how there was a man who played the organ there between shows. I’m guessing my cousin would have been there too, but the truth is all my memory of this day is tied up in the experience of going to the movie. It was a double feature. First we watched The Mark of Zorro, a black and white 1940′s film. 94 minutes later we were treated with the main event: The Adventures of Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland, and in full technicolor!
For the record, I can’t imagine taking a 7-year old today to a double feature of movies filmed entirely before the 1940′s. I can’t fathom it. I have no idea what my aunt was thinking. I mean, I just don’t think 7-year olds have that kind of attention span period, let alone for 4 hours of old-timey films from 50 years before they were born.
But oh how I loved these movies! Loved them. These guys were amazing. Dashing! Daring! Charismatic! I was absolutely glued to the screen! I remember the swordplay, the heroics, the adventure! These guys were everything I wanted to be! So awesome! So heroic! So cool! And y’know…they did alright with the ladies too.
When the movies were over, I was disappointed that there wasn’t a third movie for us to watch. I wanted to stay, hoping there might be another adventure for us to embark on. I had gained a newfound appreciation for story and cinema- one which has remained with me to this day.
I have returned to the old-timey theater many times since.