I’m lucky enough to live within a 10-minute car ride of two drive-in movie theaters. They’re both owned by the same people, play 50’s intermission reels in between each film, and have snackbar shacks that haven’t changed since the ’80s. (Undercooked fries that are all texture and no taste? Check. Nacho cheese sauce pumped out of a can? Check. Space Invaders? CHECK!) The one concession they’ve made is that the sound comes in over the car radio instead of those weird window-hazard hooked speakers, which is a definite improvement. And it’s $7 per person for two movies. In short, the drive-in rocks, and I usually go to each once a week while they’re open for the season. I don’t even particularly care what’s playing, because going is so much fun that it’s hard to have a bad time, even if whatever’s showing isn’t that great.
On the night in question, seeing 28 Weeks Later was my primary goal, but Firehouse Dog [trailer here] was the opener. I wasn’t really interested in seeing it—it’s a schlocky pre-teen story that’s been re-hashed many, many times, from Herbie to The Dirtbike Kid to Mac And Me—but how bad could it be? It’s at the drive-in!
There were no surprises in Firehouse Dog, but it was harmless, and I actually laughed at a few points. But really, it’s a piece of shit that I wouldn’t waste time on had it not been for the viewing environment.
But isn’t this supposed to be about 28 Weeks Later? What’s with all this crap about Firehouse Dog and the drive-in? I literally enjoyed Firehouse Dog about 28 hundred times more than 28 Weeks Later. It was that bad.
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