When The Water Diviner began to play, they hushed. But a few minutes in, the fellow behind me spoke, with urgency, to his wife. "Is this a war movie? What kind of movie is this?" She answered, "It's got Russell Crowe in it, see," she said as his name appeared on the screen, "he even directed it. You know I love Russell Crowe." He quieted. The movie played on. I guessed, rightly as it turned out, that this was not the end of the drama playing itself out behind us.
Suddenly on the screen there was an intense scene. I don't want to describe it too much because some of you may be planning to see it. (We're that kind of movie goer too.) As the intensity increased on the screen, the man behind me spoke again, his voice full of pain and anger, "How could you have brought me to this? How could you? You know, you know, I've told you. You know!!" He got up. Stood for a second. "I'm going home. I can't take this. It will be weeks before I feel safe again. You know that."
He became aware that he'd been speaking fairly loudly. He touched my shoulder on the way out. "Sorry," he said.
"Thank you, for my freedom," I said.
He started to cry and walked out of the theatre.