Here is my takeout from the film: growing old in complete poverty and obscurity is shit. Growing old but being wealthy and renowned is... shit.
My companion hit the jackpot though, as I stumbled in the dark while locating my seat and spilled three-quarters of my modest box of popcorn onto the chair next door. Lisa had been afraid her jumbo box (she loves popcorn) would not be sufficient to quell her hunger, so contentedly sat plucking my spillage off the seat cushion previously imprinted by a thousand pairs of buttocks.
To be fair, she hadn't had any dinner.
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