Midday Madness

Last December, with Christmas and good tidings still heavy in the winter air, the kids and I stopped to watch two grown men fight in a multiplex parking lot.

It was about 4 p.m. on a Sunday, which means there was total gridlock, so bad that the ushers were out directing traffic in their little red usher vests with the popcorn oil stains and the black pants that don’t fit.

When suddenly, some guy gets out of his car and starts pounding on the hood of another car with his meaty, middle-aged fists. The other guy must’ve cut him off. And it must’ve been pretty serious, because this first guy is really yelling and pounding.

I start to imagine what it would be like, being beaten to death by some father who just sat through a “Care Bear” movie. Talk about road rage. Talk about your senseless deaths.

“Lock your doors,” I told the kids.

“Why?”

“We’re in a multiplex parking lot,” I said. “Anything could happen.”

‘Tis the season.

It starts in a week or two, gets really rolling around Thanksgiving, then peaks the week after Christmas, when the kids are out of school and there’s nothing to do, what with the toys and games already a week old.

So the kids will arrive at their local multiplex in long lines of Suburbans and minivans packed tight, the engines gently rocking from side to side as they wait to unload. Like pods of whales, these vehicles, so full and lumbering that they can barely move.

And one by one, the cars will pull to the curb and unload their cargo. Five kids. Six kids. Eight kids. A dozen. If they’re old enough--and you’re lucky enough--they’re heading into the theater by themselves.

The kids will get out of the car, careful not to hold the door for the person behind them, almost limping because their jeans are so wadded with Christmas cash from Grandpa.

“Can I have a couple more bucks?” they’ll ask before they go.

“No,” the dad will say, and the kid will close the car door and shrug and feel better for having asked.

“Hey, I tried,” he’ll tell his buddies.

“Let’s go,” one will say, and into the theater they will run.

Behind them will be a little sister or brother, tagging along, hanging out with the older ones, always about 10 steps behind.

And into a dark theater they will follow their older siblings, to watch giant apes and “Star Trek” voyages, flying monkeys and talking snowmen. That is when they’re not spending what used to be your yearly allowance at the snack stand.

“Pepsi,” the kids will tell the girl behind the snack counter. “No, that one,” they’ll say, pointing to the 2-gallon cup, the biggest soft drink cup there is.

Only in movie theaters do they sell soft drinks the size of fire hydrants, giant containers purchased by kids with bladders no bigger than their thumbs.

“Let’s go,” one will say, and they will run, Sno Caps rattling, the younger brother or sister still trailing 10 steps behind.

It should be a good thing, these holiday matinees. “What’s great about this particular season is that there’s something for all kids,” said Paul Dergarabedian, president of Exhibitor Relations Inc., which tracks box-office statistics.

The day a parent can pull to a curb and let the kids loose in a movie theater should be one of the milestones in a family’s life.

Dream on, Mom or Dad. Because this is what a kid, left to his or her own devices, will choose to see.

Boys, ages 8-12: Big, buff heroes. Big, honking explosions. No kissing. If they kiss, they die. Instantly. Preferably in an explosive fireball. Ideal movie: “Armageddon.” This year’s holiday pick: “Star Trek: Insurrection.”

Girls, ages 8-12: Same as above, only with a dog or cat or tough girl. Ideal movie: “Deep Impact.” Holiday pick: “Mighty Joe Young.”

Boys, ages 13-15: Teen queens in distress. Multiple suspects. No kissing. If they kiss, they die. Instantly. Only Neve Campbell survives. And the killer. Ideal movie: “I Know What You Did Last Summer.” Holiday pick: “I Still Know What You Did Last Summer.”

Girls, ages 13-15: Leonardo DiCaprio. Teen queens. Lots of kissing. Love endures. Celine Dion sings. Ideal movie: “Titanic.” Holiday pick: “Titanic” on video.

Boys, ages 16 and up: Car chases. Nicolas Cage. Overlapping explosions. Then fire. Celine Dion dies. Ideal movie: “Face/Off.” Holiday pick: “Enemy of the State.”

Girls, ages 16 and up: Brad Pitt. Serious, full-mouth kissing, the kind where someone chips a tooth. Ideal movie: “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” Holiday pick: “You’ve Got Mail.”

*

Now, in most cases, preteens and teens can handle the explosions and mayhem. Even the kissing.

But when a little brother or sister is dragged along, as is often the case, the effects can be distressing.

“Again and again, the horror stories I hear involve a younger sibling being exposed to something she wouldn’t have chosen herself,” says Joanne Cantor, a University of Wisconsin professor who has studied mass media and children’s fears for 15 years.

Cantor found that most children who reported long-term nightmares did not pick the movie that frightened them.

“They went because someone else took them or because they happened across it on TV,” Cantor said.

Many parents will attempt to find movies that are appropriate for each child. Good luck. That often requires a full afternoon of driving at an already busy time of year.

“There’s this real pressure,” said Cantor, whose new book “Mommy, I’m Scared” (Harvest Books) explores how parents can protect children from inappropriate movies and TV. “Parents can’t always take [the kids] to three or four different shows to find what’s suitable.”

So what’s a parent to do?

Cantor recommends being firm with older children about what the younger ones should see. And saving the more intense movies for times when the younger ones just aren’t around.

This year, for instance, there’s “Mighty Joe Young,” a promising Christmas Day release about a rare ape. Disney is touting it for anyone age 4 and up. But any film with a 17-foot-tall animatronic ape might be worth a preview by the parent.

Then there’s “The Prince of Egypt,” an animated epic about Moses that at first glance might be fine for an army of 4-year-olds out for an afternoon of popcorn and Gummy Worms. But even DreamWorks admits that “The Prince of Egypt” might be too intense for the preschool set and says it is best probably for children 8 and older, with a parent alongside.

“To view a scary movie from a young child’s perspective, imagine that you’re sitting in the front row of a darkened movie theater, that the volume is turned way up and the dialogue is a language you don’t understand,” says Cantor, the expert on the effect of movies and TV. “You are at the mercy of these vivid visual images and sounds and don’t have the brainpower to tune them out or reason them away.”

The result? Lots of restless nights for children, who come padding into the bedroom at midnight, eyes big as quarters, unable to sleep because of what’s prowling around inside their heads.

“Children [frightened by movies and TV] are joining their parents in bed much more frequently than most parents are willing to admit,” Cantor says.

And then there’s all the stuff they see in the parking lot.