Two favorite actors - Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman - are starring in "Savages".
So, when the lights fell at the screening, I settled in for what I expected would be a night to remember.
It was.
By cleverly using a handful of expert cross-cuts in the opening scenes, the filmmakers quickly establish early on that an elderly gentleman is losing his grip - dementia, in fact - may be setting in.
An urgent call is put out to his two children who have been essentially out-of-touch with their father for a number of years.
The brother (Hoffman) and sister (Linney) are soon thrust together in a tug-of-war over various issues - things left unsaid, unsavory memories from the past, choices to be made about their father - you name it.
There's a whole ball of sticky wax to unravel.
Hoffman's character - Jon Savage - is a self-absorbed teacher of philosophy; while his sister, Wendy (Linney) is an unproduced playwright with promise. Each is struggling to come to terms with his or her own shortcomings - most of all - unpleasant troubling feelings that bubble beneath the surface that are striving to be reckoned with.
In the early chapters of the feature - directed by Tamara Jenkins - there are a number of searing painful insights into the issue of elderly care - or the lack thereof.
Right off-the-bat, the audience is faced with the bitter truth - the reality - of old age.
In fact, during these intense moments, anxieties of my own surface.
Also - I sensed a feeling of foreboding all around me, too, as the mostly over-fifty audience appear to be reflecting on their own circumstances and the approaching darkness that beckons most in their middle-age.
Will a caring hand be there to nurture and guide each of us at the end?
Curiously, when a moviegoer in a wheelchair arrived at the theatre with a friend just before the curtain fell, all the reserved spaces for disabled persons were taken.
At first - none of the moviegoers (who did not appear to be seriously afflicted physically in any way) - were inclined to part with their comfy spot.
When one woman finally succumbed, it was not before lamenting to anyone within earshot.
"I don't mind giving it to them, as long as they don't demand it."
A sad commentary, indeed.
Should a disabled person in a wheelchair have to ask for what is rightfully theirs?
Likewise - in a civilized society - should an elderly person be forced to make a plea to be treated with dignity and respect in their final days?
The whole scenario is a tough row to hoe - but an aspect of life on this mortal coil - most are forced to deal with at some point.
Personally, as the painful images emanated from the silver screen, I was hit with many conflicting revealing emotions.
Dying suddenly - or going out by one's own hand - appears to be preferable to the one articulated in the film.
For example - in "Savages" - various options are offered to the children so they can valiantly press on.
When the siblings struggle over the issue of a nursing home - as opposed to an assisted-care facility - it all boils down to humanity, the daughter maintains stridently.
Hoffman's character lashes back.
In a gut-wrenching poignant speech that is raw and bursting with emotion, he eloquently argues that the finely-manicured lawns, the aesthetically-pleasing facilities, and the caring attitudes depicted in the glossy brochure are not aimed at the ailing elderly on death's doorstep.
"It's all about appeasing the family's guilt."
That is the truth, he asserts.
The approach softens the pain a little and appears to be an appropriate insightful message to pay heed to.
None-the-less - one has to wonder - what is the true nature of God's plan?
To test one's compassion against the pain and sorrow of another?
To demonstrate the irony of life?
Sentient beings are born into the world wide-eyed and excited about the wonder of life.
Then, later on - go out much the same - in diapers and in a blur of faces and uncertainty.
Are the final gruesome hours a parting glance on the human condition or a last ditch-effort to reflect on the meaning of life?
Or, just a humbling opportunity to make amends so we can prepare to meet the maker?