The story you are about to read is 100% true, but names have been changed to protect the (formerly) innocent.
Writing reviews for Common Sense Media requires me to attend movie previews once or twice a week. (I know, it's a hard-knock life, but if it makes you feel any better, for every Enchanted I see, I also have to sit through a Miss March.) While I'm at the movies, my lovely neighbor Lucy and her oldest daughter usually babysit my three kids. Occasionally, I take her 12-year-old middle daughter, Sally, with me, so there's one less kid to watch.
One night, I made a horrible mistake. I failed to do any research about my assigned film and invited Sally to see Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story. I didn't know it was rated R, because the last time I had read anything about it, it was "not yet rated." It had some raunchy jokes that made me uncomfortable, but I never expected what was to come. To my horror, about a third of the way into the comedy, a man appears completely naked on camera.
Actually, I should clarify that you don't even see the man's face, because the shot is basically a close-up of his penis -- an extended close-up ... the kind of close-up that could have been a slide in a presentation given to urologists.
Throughout the scene, I didn't know what to do. Should I look over at Sally? What if she was looking, wide-eyed at the big (BIG!) screen. I couldn't cover her eyes, because that's something you do to your own kids -- or maybe your nieces and nephews -- but a neighbor's kid? I snuck a glance and noticed that Sally was looking down at her hands, but was that only for show? Could she tell I was glancing at her? Was this going to live on in her memory as the very first penis she'd seen? Oh no!
After the credits rolled and we were back in my minivan, I decided to bring up the subject. I apologized to Sally for taking her to such an, um, "inappropriate" movie. I didn't mention the penis, per se, but I did explain that had I known there was nudity, I never would have invited her. She predictably said it was fine and that she had seen and heard worse. "Really?" I asked. That didn't seem possible. ... She then volunteered that she wouldn't tell her mom about the raunch.
I have to admit, I briefly considered not revealing the whole truth to Lucy, either, since it was obvious that Sally wasn't going to tell her anything. After all, Sally was looking away, right? Right? But reason prevailed, and I realized that I would want to know if it were my kid. I didn't say anything that night, because it was too awkward as we exchanged children. But the next day, I came clean. Lucy was surprisingly calm and amused about the situation -- she did have several follow up questions about the full-frontal nudity, but she seemed relieved to hear that Sally wasn't staring.
Needless to say, I haven't taken Sally to many movies since then, but the few we have seen together were rated PG, like Meet Dave. Terrible movie, by the way, but at least it was 100% penis free.
Bottom line: If you want to prevent my full-frontal fiasco, take a few minutes to research the movie you're going to see. Luckily, we at Common Sense Media have done the work for you, but don't forget to also check out the trailer and carefully read the reason for the MPAA rating at filmratings.com.
Sandie Angulo Chen has been an entertainment writer and editor for her entire professional career and is the mother of three. Her work has appeared in Variety, Moviefone.com, EW.com, Entertainment Weekly, and InStyle. The opinions in this article reflect the views of the author and not necessarily those of Common Sense Media.
