There are some things that you can’t un-see:
I worked at a video store with a guy named Greg. It was a loose operation, and there was a lot of time to stand around and talk. One day, the topic turned to A.I.: Artificial Intelligence, the Spielberg/Kubrick mash-up about a robot boy trying to find his mommy.
“I thought it was great,” I said. “The best thing Spielberg’s done since Raiders.”
“I get sick every time I think of that movie,” Greg replied.
“Let me tell you a story. I was once innocent and sweet, and then I decided to watch A.I. I opened the DVD case, popped the disc into the player, and…it was an amateur sex tape made by my parents. They put it in that box to hide it.”
Our manager, who was clueless in the way many managers are, asked, “So how long did you watch the tape? What were they doing?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I turned it right off! But those few seconds of processing time are still burned into my brain.”
This story raises several questions:
1). Why are people still making sex tapes? They always leak out into the community. Just get a large mirror, people!
2). Assuming you decide to make a sex tape, where should you hide it? I don’t have an answer, but I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t put it on the family’s movie shelf.
3). Why don’t people like A.I.? The film is full of unforgettable images, real emotion, and fine acting. Why would people just assume that its case would make a good hiding spot for amateur porn?
The words “Spielberg” and “porn” are kicking around my brain now, giving me visions of softly-lit, formally composed money shots set to a sweeping John Williams score. Like almost all Spielberg films, there’s a happy ending.