We are all products of our raising, in that our interpretation of words or phrases are more often shaped by our upbringing than by the intended meaning of the speaker or writer. Because of this phenomenon, nothing has caused me more confusion throughout my lifetime, than the peculiarity of movie titles.
When my wife and I first started dating, she wanted me to take her out to see a newly released movie that was taking the country by storm. I agreed, even though I hadn’t paid any attention to new movies in years. When I asked her the name of the movie, she replied, E.T.
“Excellent,” I responded excitedly, “Ernest Tubb has always been one of my favorite musicians, so it should be a great story!” She looked at me as if I were some kind extra-terrestrial being. Needless to say, I was disappointed in the subject matter of the movie, but in my childhood, Ernest Tubb was commonly referred to as E.T. and he was the only E.T. I had ever known.
When Raging Bull came out, I was hoping that it was a good, agriculturally-oriented film about the dangers of male bovines and I was even hopeful the producers had used an old, black bull that I had sold the year before, because he was just too dangerous to be around. Sadly, it was just a movie about a boxer – and not even the ‘dog’ kind.
Silence of the Lambs had nothing to do with sheep. It was a good movie, but when you take your two young sons to the movie to get them excited about showing market lambs the next summer, it is a little confusing to them. I think both of them had nightmares for a couple of months and neither ever wanted to show sheep after that.
When I was in college, and long before movie companies spent millions of advertising dollars hyping their next blockbuster, I was both intrigued and excited to see Midnight Cowboy on the marquee at the local theater. Most all of the cowboy movies I had ever seen had starred heroes like John Wayne, were set in the old west, and were great fun to watch. I was shocked, to say the least, and even went through a few-years stretch where I refused to wear cowboy boots.
Hopefully, through the years, I have become a little more discerning in my understanding of how movies are managed and titled. For instance, when Angus came out in 1995, I was pretty sure that it had nothing to do with the breed of cattle and I was right. So, last week, when I heard that Mr. Clint Eastwood (one of my favorite actors and directors of all times) had directed a movie to be released this summer, titled Jersey Boys, it was easy to contain my enthusiasm. I have no idea what it’s about, but my experiences pretty well assure me that it won’t be about a few 4-H and FFA lads taking their brown cows to the World Dairy Expo.
