When AGMA’s issue, Son#1 & Son#2, were young, I mean really young (3 & 4 maybe), Hubs let them watch “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom”.
If you saw this movie, aside from the usual “Indiana Jones gets out of impossible situations and cracks a few jokes in the process”, there are some pretty dark themes in it. Child slavery, human sacrifice, chilled monkey brains & eyeball soup, etc…
Definitely NOT for the milk and cookie pre-school crowd.
I was unaware that Hubs allowed them to watch this movie. That is, of course, of until Son#2 put his hand on his brother’s, Son#1, chest and said, “I’m gonna rip your harrrrt out.”
Kali Ma Shakti de
AGMA was not happy. Not happy at all. And Hubs heard all about it.
However, in subsequent years, the process of trying to rip each others hearts out became a staple on long car trips. One son would pin the other in the back seat, hover his hand over his brothers heart, and chant, “Kali Ma Shakti de.”
And then we’d all laugh. How twisted is that?
It became one of those unexpected family traditions.
And traditions die hard in AGMA’s family. I think they did this to each other as recently as a few years ago (both in their early 30s)
But holy sh*t, the Temple of Doom doesn’t hold a candle to old Tarzan movies.
I’m talking about Johnny Weissmuller’s Tarzan movies of the 1930’s and 40’s.
As a child, AGMA watched every Tarzan movie that was broadcast on our little black and white TV. The African jungle and the native tribes and Cheeta and the elephants and Tarzan always saving the day…it seemed to be otherworldly and so very exotic.
Compared to Pittsburgh, PA that is.
But good Lord…even in black and white, those things were terrifying!
A few weeks ago, “Tarzan and his Mate”, vintage 1934, came on TV. It was the sequel to the 1932 Tarzan the Ape Man, and starred Maureen O’Sullivan as Jane.
Since we hadn’t seen a Tarzan movie probably in 40 years, we thought it would be fun to watch it.
Sure – it’s all fun and games until the giant crocodiles start attacking.
As AGMA watched the movie, my palms started to sweat. I was breathing a little to fast, my heart started to thump, and the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand up.
The childhood memories of Tarzan terror came storming back.
Some of the “highlights” in the Tarzan movies I saw…
- Crocodiles, hippos, lions, snakes, etc attacking and ripping people apart
- Tarzan stabbing or otherwise killing said crocodiles, hippos, lions, snakes, etc…
- People getting devoured to the bone by piranha in a river
- Human sacrifice
- Natives getting killed for sport by the white hunters
- White hunters boiled in oil
- Throats/chests slit open on a regular basis
- People being tied to a tree then eaten by various wild animals
- Huge snakes (I mean YUGE!) squeezing people to death – slowly, painfully
- People getting trampled to death by stampeding animals (mostly elephants)
- People literally getting ripped in half after being tied to two criss crossed trees that were cut apart.
That last one REALLY made an impression on me. Gristly.
Kinda makes ripping somebody’s heart out seem a bit subdued. A little.
Baby Boomers watching Tarzan movies when they were young might explain a lot about what’s going on now a days. Just sayin’…
And, to quote Gomer Pyle, surprise, surprise, surprise…”Tarzan and his Mate” is incredibly sexually charged too.
What?? In 1934??
Let’s just say, it’s made obvious that Jane is not staying in the jungle with Tarzan because he is a great conversationalist.
If you get my drift.
In one scene, Tarzan rips Jane’s clothes off and there’s an extended nude swimming scene (Maureen O’Hara had a body double) with them cozying up in the water.
In another scene, Jane tries on a silk frock brought to the jungle by a former suitor who is trying to lure her away from Tarzan. AGMA doesn’t believe that a silk frock can even begin to compete with what Tarzan brings to the table.
If you get my drift.
Anyway, Tarzan swings by, feels up the silk frock, feels up Jane, then picks here up and carries into the trees for a night of cavorting. The next morning, Jane naked and covered only by animals skins starts canoodling AGAIN with Tarzan.
Hey – get a room you two!
Oh, and did I mention that Johnny Weissmuller and Maureen O’Hare were wearing nothing, nada, zilch, under their oh so skimpy loin clothes. Oh la la!
So I suppose that AGMA shouldn’t have gotten that upset with Hubs for the “Temple of Doom” incident ‘cause, seriously, Indiana Jones ain’t got nutin’ on Tarzan.