Mark KennedyLast Sunday, my teenage son and I went to see the new film "Mad Max: Fury Road," which might be the most bizarre movie I have ever paid money to see.
No other adjective I can think of besides "bizarre" will stick to this slick, post-apocalyptic desert romp, which is basically a two-hour car chase involving paint-huffing War Boys and bunch of waifish models.
Even serious movie critics, who usually hate thinly-dialogued action films like this one, seemed to have called a truce over the new "Mad Max," which hearkens back to a durable franchise that included three Mel Gibson films released between 1979 and 1985.
At one point last weekend, "Mad Max: Fury Road" had an almost unheard-of 98 percent positive rating on the website Rotten Tomatoes, which aggregates critical reactions to movies. At that point, a few contrarians jumped in to drive down the score.
"I can't stop thinking about that crazy Mad Max movie," I texted my son the next day.
"I know," he thumbed back.
As my boys grow older and enjoy the company of friends more than outings with Mom and Dad, movies are still a safe zone. For teens, the darkness of a movie theater provides cover for the normally uncool act of having fun with the parents.
Meanwhile, for my younger son, a trip to a movie theater promise the guiltiest of pleasures -- overpriced soft drinks, popcorn and candy. My parents used to buy groceries for a week for what it costs to purchase a round of family snacks at the movies these days.
Six-dollar Cokes, anyone? Get your ice-cold $6 cokes, right here!
But I guess that's the price of togetherness in 2015.
I have vivid memories of going to the movies as a kid. When I was in sixth grade, my Dad -- who almost never went to movies -- took me to see the World War II film "Patton" starring George C. Scott, whose profanity-riddled rants left me slack-jawed. I think my Dad was trying to teach me about war -- he was a Korea veteran -- without actually talking about it. All I remember is cussing.
I also remember my Mom and Dad taking my sister and me to the drive-in theater to see a James Bond film, "Thunderball," when I was 7 years old, then demanding that we both cover our eyes during the love scenes.
This proves my theory that, once children get to a certain age, there's really no such thing as a "family movie."
One of the predictable arcs of family life is what I would call the four phases of cinema:
* The Dating Years: These are the years when you are dating or newly married, and movie nights are still fun, carefree experiences. During this period, your only worry is whether to see a chick-flick or an action film. Those couples who cannot negotiate this conflict without rancor have no business being married.
* The Netflix Years: This is the period of time when your children are very young and you will see no -- repeat no -- first-run movies. You will realize there is a big gap in your pop-culture knowledge when you're watching the Academy Awards years later and discover that you didn't see any of the "Best Movie" winners from 2000 to 2005.
* Disney/Pixar Years: This is a stretch of time, usually three to five years, when you will only see animated feature films. Thankfully, Hollywood is fully aware of this frustrating phase of movie-going and creates films with child-friendly plots and dialogue smart enough to please adults.
* The One-on-One Years: These are the years when your kids get older and you might -- underline "might" -- still be able to find a movie that at least one child is willing to see with you. During this period, the whole family actually reaching consensus on a movie choice is out of the question.
* The Golden Years: I can only imagine that this marks a return to the Dating Years pattern, when you and your spouse will once again enjoy movies as pure entertainment. And, who knows, you might even have enough money to buy a bucket of popcorn.
Still, for the time being, there is still magic for me on the silver screen. When my 8-year-old son leans on my shoulder during the "scary parts" of an animated movie, my soul hovers in the moment, trying to capture the feeling for all time.
Meanwhile, sometimes when I'm with my older son at a movie, I will steal a glance at him to see if I can read the emotions in his face. In those moments, I try to remember a time when movies, for me, were pure portals of discovery.
There is a reason we pay $12 for movie tickets. Because the memories we make are worth it.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6645. Follow him on Twitter @TFPCOLUMNIST. Subscribe to his Facebook updates at www.facebook.com/mkennedycolumnist.