Yet another well intended parenting moment gone abysmally wrong. The boy liked, the girl professed not to mind, I appreciated, not to say I liked, but that I appreciated the whole film - what an inappropriate choice this was, and I thought seriously of taking the daughter to Alvin and the Chipmunks to redeem myself. Thankfully she absolved me...
I'd forgotten how gruesome Tarantino's signature violence can be, and imagined it somehow as being more evocative, less explicit...Oooops.
And so apologies to the wide-eyed daughter, and gratitude that the friend with similar-aged sheltered daughter didn't attend, as that would have required some serious explaining I really wasn't up to...