Thelma (#565)

On a hot and humid Saturday, I wen to see THELMA, expecting to see hoards at the theater escaping the heat,  Nope, the usual paucity.  Two other men were in the theater, sitting in my reserved seat but moving off when I threatened them with my cane.  Just kidding!!  It presumably is based, in some measure, on the antics of the director's grandmother.  It was a light-hearted comedy, intended to amuse and entertain (critics described it as hilarious).  I had mixed emotions because, as a longtime senior citizen, I thought it had the odor of demeaning those of us advanced in age.  Thelma is an elderly woman, living independently but leaning heavily on her beloved grandson.  She gets a call, purportedly from him, revealing that he is incarcerated and she needs to send him ten thousand dollars in cash to get him out. Yeah, she's a senior victimized by a scammer about which we've been warned countless times by the media.  She scrounges through her residence, gets the required funds and mails them to the address provided.  Of course, you know who shows up next — the grandson — and she realizes she's been scammed.  She is angry and embarks on a bizarre journey to get the money back, enlisting en route a friend, a black man who is a resident of a senior citizen facility.  There are minor but noticeable digs at seniors throughout (maybe only noticed  by folks like me who live in such facilities), and predictably, her mission is, like those of Tom Cruise, impossible as she drives across Los Angeles with her friend on his motorized scooter.  Even though it was only an hour and 37 minutes long, it seemed  endless like most films these days, but pleasant and entertaining enough with no sexual encounters or foul language.  The only actor, unrecognizable to me, was Richard Roundtree, who starred 100 years ago it seems in the Shaft movies.  99% of critics who likely have grandmothers and who tolerate or overlook their sometimes unusual or irresponsible behavior gave it a thumbs up as did 78% of audiences, confirming the fact that I am a bonafide curmudgeon.