A Perfect Getaway

A Perfect Getaway

“Someone on this trail isn’t who they say they are.”

I had a rough day. Thanks to the flood inducing rains from the day before, the earth was just soft enough to allow my dog to wiggle under the fence in our back yard and have free reign of the unappreciative neighborhood...at least until someone called to let me know my dog was missing and I had to go pick him up. After picking him up for the second time, I put an old—and heavy—tire in front of his escape route and for extra assurance I tethered his leash to the back porch the next time I let him out. Unfortunately, within 15 minutes of being let out, the dang dog tore the leash into three pieces. I don’t even know how he did it. It looked like he used scissors.

My eleven year old son, afflicted with a rare syndrome called Ohdo Blepharophimosis, has good days and bad days. Fortunately, there are far more good days than there are bad, but today wasn’t one of the former. He was being completely defiant; making messes, helping with the laundry, antagonizing the dog (no wonder he was trying to escape) and making more noise than a non-verbal child should be able to make. I needed Calgon…or chocolate…or a therapist.

Then, I get a phone call I’d been expecting. A heads up about the class I’d be assigned to when school reconvenes next week. After a year of bragging about how lucky I am to get paid (no matter how little) to assist in an early intervention kindergarten classroom, I suppose I knew the luck would run out. I’m kind of cynical that way. But, I was also right. My new assignment would be in a self-contained kindergarten class, assisting the teacher with 12 kids with special needs. 12 kids. Twelve. A dozen. All at one time. All day. Every day. I’m scared.

Now I needed more than a bubble bath, some chocolate or someone with the authority to write prescriptions could offer. I needed a vacation. A getaway.

Unfortunately, that getaway would only come in the form of a movie. A free sneak preview offered this evening at one of my favorite theaters on the north side. I went with one of my teen daughters, a same-age (give or take a year) friend of mine, and her teenage boy toy. Okay, the boy toy was really her own teen daughter’s boyfriend who only agreed to go because his girlfriend had another social obligation, but it makes the story more exciting when I exaggerate a little.

The movie, aptly named A Perfect Getaway, stars Steve Zahn and Milla Jovovich as Cliff and Cydney; newlyweds honeymooning on a remote island in Hawaii. When they learn that another honeymooning couple has been murdered, everyone around them is suspect. The hitchhiking couple (Chris Hemsworth and Marley Shelton) they stop to help but end up leaving behind, as well as the outdoorsy couple they meet during their hike.

Timothy Olyphant and Kiele Sanchez play Nick and Gina, a total bada** couple that are comfortable living off the land. While Steve Zahn is always enjoyable and Milla Jovovich did a decent job, it was Olyphant and this unknown (to me) actress that made the movie. He with his wild survival stories and sick sense of humor, her with her southern accent, knife know-how and lack of fear.

I don’t know what is up with movies not meeting my expectations lately, but it worked in this movie’s favor. I was expecting a horror/ thriller/whodunit type movie. It was that, but it also made me laugh almost as much as some recent comedies I’ve seen. While the suspense/mystery aspect of the movie was somewhat formulaic and predictable…it was oh, so entertaining. Refreshing!

Of course, after a day like today, it really was a perfect getaway. I was so captivated by and focused on the movie that I forgot all about my troubles…and it reminded me that no matter how bad my day is, it could always be so much worse; even in Hawaii. Though there was a little something I didn’t quite understand and took me two hours to process, I liked A Perfect Getaway. Which means the critics probably won’t.

Bottom Line: A Perfect Getaway is a movie that takes you away. Perfectly entertaining.