I remember the first time I saw Clash of the Titans. It was 1991, I was ten years old, and I was in Mrs. Findlay’s fifth grade class at Parker Farms Elementary School. The other fifth graders had been buzzing all week—we were going to take two whole hours out of our school day on Friday and we were going to watch an action movie! We even had to sign a permission slip. It was like a class trip, except we got popcorn.
Friday couldn’t get here fast enough, and, when the day came, we all rushed into class and excitedly took our seats as the VCR whirred to life. Two hours later, the credits rolled and the lights came back up. We began asking the deep, pressing questions that Clash inevitably provokes: What was up with Perseus’s dorky hair? What kind of girly hero rides a flying horse? And, seriously, what was the deal with the owl?