It started back in the early 2000s. It was a hot summer, I was done with school and my friend Andrew and I were incredibly bored. Around 10:00am, we were lying around on couches, watching television, thinking aloud as to what we would do for fun that day.
After much debate about nothing, I eventually suggested a movie. “Sounds good,” Andrew replied. “What’s playing at the Ritz?”
You must understand that “the Ritz” was a theater a town over in Voorhees, New Jersey that was big and played a variety of art house and mainstream films. As cultured as we already were growing up in neighboring Cherry Hill, the Ritz provided access to some of the most talked about “indie flicks” of the time.
I grabbed a newspaper lying on the floor and thumbed through it until I came across the movie listings. “How about the new Matrix movie?” I asked. “Seen it,” he replied. This went on and on essentially until I came across a movie called The Dreamers. “Holy shit, dude. This movie is rated NC-17,” I cried out.
Andrew immediately sat up on the couch. “What? Are you serious? Like, Showgirls NC-17?”
“Yeah. There’s a showing at 2:35pm. Let’s go.”
And so, around 2:00pm, we drove over to the Ritz and purchased two tickets to The Dreamers. We proudly showed our IDs to the cashier, bought some popcorn and soda and took our seats. The theater was mostly empty by the time the movie started. I figured it was due to the fact that it was the middle of the day in the middle of the week.
Eventually, the movie started and Andrew and I said something along the lines of “Oh shit, oh shit. This is really gonna happen,” during the previews.
The film started off in Paris with an American exchange student exploring the city and watching movies or as the French call them, films. It’s an entertaining movie for about 45 minutes or so. Nothing special. Andrew asked me where the nudity was about half an hour into the “film.” He said he wanted to see some bush.
Eventually, the American meets up with a Parisian duo who are brother and sister. He moves into their apartment since the parents are away for the summer and eventually starts fucking the girl. The girl starts fucking the brother. They all start fucking each other. And when the girl gets her period, that doesn’t stop the fucking. The American smears her menstruation all over his face and falls asleep with her.
This went on for about an hour until the last five minutes of the movie. The parents come home from their vacation and find all three of them naked in a tent in the living room. Mortified, the girl tries to kill herself (if I recall correctly) and the guys run around in the street during those late 1960s student riots and the movie draws to a close.
Andrew and I walked out of the theater and used the restroom. On the way back to the car we didn’t say a word to each other. “What the fuck was that?” Andrew eventually asked. “What. The. Fuck?”
“Dude, I don’t know. I don’t want to know. He ate her period, dude.”
“Disgusting. I feel sick.”
“I know, let’s get out of here.”
We left the movie theater and went back to playing computer games or whatever the hell we did back then. Since then, neither of us has seen an NC-17 movie in a theater. We have had no desire to.
Years later, Andrew and I were hanging out and having a few beers. It was summer time.
Later in the day and a bit tipsy, we went and got water ice. Andrew ordered cherry and after having a few bites, proceeded to smear it all over his face and scream “LOOK, DUDE! I’M THE DREAMERS! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I haven’t spoken with him since.