The theater was dark. On-screen, an old movie played. It was one of the greats, a Silver Screen classic. Casablanca. Bogart was rough, past relationships were hard, and being stuck in Casablanca was no picnic, sweetheart. The film was one of Ashton's favorites. He loved it for many reasons. Being a 'movie buff' wasn't reason enough. The acting was top notch, for starters, the cinematography and plot being a close second. The actress playing Bogart's character's ex was a real cutie. That wasn't the third reason he loved the movie. It was just worth noting.

The theater wasn't packed. There weren't many who came to this theater for its Classic marathons. Those that did built up a choice audience of connoisseurs. The true movie lovers, the drama geeks, the hopeless romantics... you could really write up a detailed report about the psychology behind the audience. Some preferred the romanticized past over the present. There were some older people in the audience, amid the college students and the middle-aged lovestruck fools. Ashton wasn't one of the latter. He did dig women with film taste, though. Good women and good movies, that's what he was here for. And so he sat, with his popcorn, near the middle row, and watched. They were at the very start of the movie. There'd be plenty of time to enjoy.

Riley was a closet romantic. It was evident by the tote full of romance novels stuffed under her bed. She pulled them out all the time, reading her favorite parts over and over again. It wasn’t about the smut. Not at all. It was the ewey gooey gushy love parts that made her warm from her head to her toes. Not that she’d have ever admitted it. Hell no. As much as she loved the stories, they were simply that. Stories.

Nobody fell in love and lived happily ever after. The knight in shining armor didn’t exist, and if he did he was off rescuing pretty blonds with large allowances from the tall towers. Not the scowling brunettes from the back alleys and sleazy photographers, or sleazy lawyers and their infuriating coffee boys.

Better to leave it to Bogart.

Riley loved places like this. Old theaters that were obviously past their prime, relegated to showing classics for cult audiences and homeless people who could scrape together enough money to come in out of the cold for the two and a half hours the movie ran.

There weren’t very many people in the theater, and Riley had seen the movie a hundred times. She had it on DVD…but there was something about watching it in a theater that was so appealing. Maybe it was that Bogart was so much larger than life up there on the screen. Riley watched, and munched popcorn from the small bag she’d purchased on her way in. She hadn’t taken her hood down inside the theater, just in case there was anyone acquainted with her in the theater.

She turned her head slightly, noticing that she wasn’t alone in her row. It was dark, and all she could see was a silhouette. Had this person seen the movie as often as she had? The dark anonymity of the theater made Riley slightly more bold and friendly than she usually was and she rose from her seat, moving until there were only two seats between them.

”First time?” she asked in a whisper just loud enough to carry across the space.

A feminine voice addressed him in the dark. Ashton glanced her way. He could not get a clear view of her face, but the outline of a body was enough to let him know she was there and the one who addressed him. He smiled cockily, though she couldn't see it, hand poised over his bag of popcorn. "Nope," he replied with a slight laugh. "I've been to these sorts of classic showings lots of times. They played The Maltese Falcon last week. The Magnificent Seven, the week before that. Great stuff. I think they're playing The Big Sleep pretty soon. Might have to adjust my day plans. What about you?" He paused a second to pop a piece of popped corn into his mouth, then kept talking, asking over and around the bit of food. "You come to see these movies often? Are you a film buff like me?"

There was no way she was as big a film buff as he. He knew that well. It was funny to think anyone could even try. Still, it didn't hurt to ask.

Ah, he wasn’t a first-timer. Riley squinted her eyes slightly, trying to get a better picture of the stranger a few seats away. All she could make out was a sillouette, but he seemed friendly enough and the movie had put her in a good mood. A flash of teeth showed in the light from the projector, and Riley smiled back from the recesses of her hood.

Did she come here often?

”Often enough.” she replied, taking another handful of popcorn and working on it one piece at a time, she’d dumped a package of M&M’s inside and smiled at the salty constrast of the chocolate against the sweet.

Her new friend was into the old movies, it appeared, but slightly different genres than Riley frequented, ”I think that we’re on slightly different ends of the interest spectrum, but were lucky enough to overlap here. I’m guessing it’s the manly Bogart finess and Nazi drama that have you here.”

She paused. Dare she reveal her dark secret? Well, it was dark, and she was hidden by her hood. ”I saw Sabrina last week, and they played Breakfast at Tiffany’s two weeks before. An Affair to Remember last month. Somehow I doubt you were there.”

Manly Bogart fitness and Nazi drama? Was that why she was here? It certainly wasn't why he was. She shared some of her last few movies, and it clicked. She liked the romance side of things.

Somehow, she doubted he was into that same romantic film experience. She doubted he'd gone to the same showings she'd been at.

"Perhaps not," Ashton replied, popping a piece of corn and chewing the thought over. "But I can respect the hopeless romantic. Casablanca wouldn't be Casablanca without that part of the story. Ilsa and Rick, the love triangle with Laszlo. Rick rediscovering his feelings for Ilsa, but being the bigger man, on his own moral terms, doing what's best for her. Definitely romantic, and manly as they come. One has to love the classic main character, doing things his own way, with his own code... plus, Ingrid Bergman is cute." He joked. "Those are the reasons I'm here." He smiled honestly at her, and popped another few kernels into his mouth.

Riley had to wrinkle her nose as the phrase, “hopeless romantic”. That’s not what this was about. This was all about the fantasy. A “hopeless romantic” was the type of person who believed that there were real men out there who could live up to the standards set by the movies. The type of person who looked for that kind of guy in everyone they met.

Riley looked across the two empty seats at the silhouetted stranger. ”I’m not a hopeless romantic.” she said firmly but not meanly.

”I just like the acting in the old movies. It’s so much more earnest. Things were simpler then. There just weren’t as many variables. You know? Men were men. Women were impressed.”

>>”I’m not a hopeless romantic.”

He took it as face value. Neither was he.

>>”I just like the acting in the old movies. It’s so much more earnest. Things were simpler then. There just weren’t as many variables. You know? Men were men. Women were impressed.”

"Same here," Ashton shared. "Guess I went overboard dissecting it. Let the movie be the movie, right? A sigh just a sigh." He turned back towards the screen, casually popping a few more kernels of corn into his mouth, chewed. Kept talking. "The fundamental things apply, as time goes by."

"... Thank goodness Nicholas Cage isn't in this one," He added after a thoughtful second of watching the movie in silence. "We need more men being men, not actors."

”Mm hmmm.” Riley said, shrugging her shoulders when he admitted to over dissecting things. If she’d been the contrite type, she may have even admitted that she was over-sensitive. Good thing she wasn’t, though, that probably would have been awkward.

She forgave him his indiscretion. This time. Besides, the conversation was going too well to simply discard it because of a such a small faux pas. Riley ate more popcorn, chocolate met salt. Mmmmm.

He brought up Nick Cage, and Riley nearly choked. If he’d been able to see her face in the dark recesses of the hood her expression would have revealed her true feelings on that particular actor.

”Yeah, I’m not a fan of big explosions and terrible acting that tries to take itself too seriously.”

She thought for a few moments, ”At least he’s not Keaneu Reeves.” She said, preparing to lapse back into silence and simply watch the film. There was something about the stranger’s last statement that had tickled her fancy though.

”So tell me, how is a man a man as opposed to an actor? If Bogart wasn’t so good…it could be said that he plays the same character in every film.”

He could hear the insincerity in her voice. She really didn't care for that type of film. He commented "Big explosions, small plot."

She raised him Keanu Reeves. Ashton raised her a "Whoa." It was a dead-on impression, sans the accent. He glanced her way. "Same character, every movie. Can we say 'typecast'?" He sure could. They needed... well... he made the comment. Men, not actors.

That comment inspired a tough question. Ashton had to consider silently for a second. Finally, he came to a conclusion. "I suppose there's the rub, isn't it? The Duke played one hell of a cowboy. He was a man, but... he fell into the same role. Became the character. Bogart played a real man's man, strong. The characters he played usually worked with his particular talents. In the end, I guess it has to fall on both the actors and the director, really. If the director knows how to work the actor to bring out their strengths, then you have a draw. A bad director... gives you bad movies. Like things with Keanu Reeves... or Cage in Con Air."

Riley nodded in the dark, wondering if her movie buddy would even see the movement in the dark. She grinned at his Keanu impression, it really was spot-on. Not many people could do that without sounding cheesy. This guy was obviously a master of conversation. That meant he was also a master of BS. Riley took note and continued having fun.

”I think there’s a difference between being a character actor, and being so crappy that you can only be cast in a single role.” Riley said. John Wayne was epic, there was no two ways about it, ”Sure, John Wayne played a cowboy in most of his movies…but he was a different cowboy in them all.” Yes. Riley watched AMC on the weekends. They liked their John Wayne.

He brought up Con Air, and Riley had to snort, loud enough that someone several rows forward turned and gave a dirty look. Riley chuckled and shook her head, ”There’s something to be said about movies like that though. The sheer entertainment value of something that bad can’t be dismissed. If we’re talking about shitty Nicholas Cage movies though…I’d have to go with ‘The Rock’ you get the Connery/Cage double-whammy in that one.”

She uttered excuses to put any John Wayne fan at ease.

Excuses, excuses.

"Hey, as long as he's John Wayne and good at what he does, I don't worry too much about who he's playing," Ashton laughed a manly laugh. John Wayne was John Wayne and an excuse was an excuse. They'd already made a 'As Time Goes By' reference in this conversation, so he let a spade be a spade, and left it alone. It was what it was. A good actor by any other name would act as well. Clint Eastwood was pretty good. Dirty Harry, The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. He had his movies.

Ashton smirked at her response. Snorting. Funny. What a becoming non-laugh. He shook his head. "I like a popcorn movie just as much as the next. Wanna know a secret?" He waited long enough for a response, then let it loose in a whisper only they could hear. "Truth be told, I watch the occasional B movie now and then. They're just so bad sometimes. It's terrible." He shook his head with a light laugh. "And terribly entertaining."

”Exactly.” Riley said, agreeing with her movie-going cohort as Casablanca progressed along its natural and inevitable course. Eventually, the movie would end in tears…at least for the people on screen. Man, the audience was riveted. That’s not why Riley was there though. The movies were great, sure, but she was here for the camaraderie. This was the first time she’d actually spoken to anyone though. The experience was speaking in favor of doing the same in the future.

He asked if she wanted to know a secret, and Riley nodded her head, not thinking about the fact that it was really dark and he probably couldn’t see her. It didn’t matter, he told her anyway and Riley shrugged her shoulders.

”Anyone who can’t admit that they watch, and sometimes love B-movies is a liar. Plain and simple. It all harkens back to my earlier point. Sometimes you watch a movie for the deep emotional value and epic’ness…like this.” she said, pointing to the screen. Bogart was laying it on thick. ”Sometimes you watch for sheer entertainment value.” she paused and thought for a moment.

”It’s like people who walk into comic book movies and expect cinematic masterpieces. It’s a comic book movie for crying out loud. They’re campy as hell in their original incarnations. I don’t know why people can’t just see the thing for what it is instead of trying to make it into something more.”

Riley paused. She was ranting to a complete stranger in the middle of a movie theater.

”You know what I mean, right?”

"Exactly," Ashton stole her earlier line, confident smile on his face. "I thought the same about Watchmen when it first came out. It was entertaining. Might not have been as good as the original, but," He laughed. "That's the original. Sure, they have to change things to make it fit, to get butts in seats. Confusing elements get edited or left by the wayside. It might not be exactly as epic as the original source material, might not be the same grade of masterpiece, but hey. It can be good in its own ways. It can sure as hell be entertaining. And that's it, really? Why one goes to movies? It isn't always to be emotionally moved. Sometimes, it's just to kill time. And hey, that's entertainment." He looked her way, tried to meet her eyes in the dark, grin on his face. "Whether it's Godzilla smashing Tokyo, the blob eating entire families, or some Comedian laughing his last laugh."

Riley sighed with relief when he got her point. So many people were confused by the idea she suggested about movies. Granted, she was rarely in the mood to talk about things like this, especially with almost completely random strangers, but people still didn’t get it most of the time. Call a spade a spade. He looked at her in the dark, and Riley looked back at the silhouette, she could almost make out his facial features in the flickering light of the movie. Almost, but not quite, she smiled back, sure he couldn’t see it in the recesses of her hood.
”Exactly.” she said when he’d finished speaking.”People also need to resign themselves to the fact that the movie will never be better than the book. They need to stop going in and nitpicking every tiny little thing because it simply won’t live up to their standards. It can’t.”

Riley paused again, not so concerned about ranting since her convo buddy seemed to be doing the same thing. People weren’t yelling and throwing Skittles yet either.

”People build these characters and these story lines up in their heads. Their brain creates the scenes every bit as perfect as they could be to that individual. Then they expect those expectations to be met. They expect to see their version of the perfect scene up on the screen.”

Riley’s tone suggested what she thought about those people, ”I’m a realist, at least I hope I am. It’s like you said…it’s entertainment. The thing is…you have to be willing to let yourself enjoy it.”

"Mhm," He agreed with her. Most often times, the movie simply couldn't live up to the personal expectations of book-lovers. It could be good, but everyone had their own idea of what made it great. She got that, too. She really did.

He nodded slightly as she finished.

"Everyone's a critic." Someone behind them coughed. Ashton cleared his throat and accentuated his prior statement. "Everyone..."