A Daughter's First Movie: What Happened When I Took My 3-Year-Old to See 'Finding Dory'

As far as I’m concerned, the first movie you saw in a theater is as vital a personal stat as your hometown, astrological sign, and favorite Golden Girl. In that regard, I was extremely fortunate: mine was E.T. During the summer of 1982, I was 3 years old when my Aunt Carol took us to a showing of Steven Spielberg’s about-to-be-classic. It hit me hard. I came home and weepily told my grandma, “E.T. went home.”

So I spent a lot of time thinking about what my own 3-year-old daughter Lyla’s first movie would be. Finding Dory became an easy decision. Not only had Lyla become a disciple of the memory-challenged Dory (Ellen DeGeneres) from repeated viewings of Finding Nemo, but I had gotten to see an early preview of the film’s first act a couple months back and it made me confident that Lyla would also be a lucky one when it came to her first movie.

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Now, I’ve already instituted strict quality control measures when it comes to the Blu-rays that can take up permanent residence on our shelves at home. Pixar movies, Disney classics, and one-offs like Shrek (the original), The Lego Movie, and Shaun the Sheep all make the cut. Those ungodly Alvin and the Chipmunks and Smurfs movies? Hell, no. But I had a moment of weakness last summer. I was going to see Minions for work, and Lyla, only 2 at the time, had recently become obsessed with them. She had also been sitting through full movies at home for a few months, so I thought she might be ready for The Big Time. She was not. First of all, those 3D glasses lasted about five minutes on her face. Second, my wife and I bought a medium popcorn for the family, which of course was about the size of Lyla’s entire frame. She turned into The Popcorn Monster and devoured half the bag. When we attempted to take it from her, she had a full-on freak-out. The whole movie experiment lasted about 25 minutes and was a complete failure.

I told Lyla we’d wait a year and try again, though I confess I was secretly relieved — I didn’t want her to have to cop to Minions for the rest of her life. I looked at the upcoming release calendar and there was the perfect first movie on the horizon: Finding Dory. Among Lyla’s other obsessions is the original 2003 movie Finding Nemo. It’s one of the few movies she’s seen as much as all the animated fairytales. (There’s an 8-way tie for her favorite princess between Elsa, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Jasmine, Ariel, Sleeping Beauty, Tiana, and Belle.) A trip to the aquarium or pet store is cause for pure pandemonium. Ever been to an aquarium with clownfish and blue tang fish in the tanks? It’s like when the Beatles landed in America for the first time, except with swarms of toddlers screaming “Nemo!” and “Dory!”

This time, I’d right a couple of wrongs from the Minions experience: No 3D glasses and make it a small popcorn, please. In the days leading up to the movie outing, we developed a call-and-response routine. “What are we gonna do? Have fun and watch the movie! What aren’t we gonna do? Talk or scream!” Occasionally she’d also say she wouldn’t cry, though I warned her this was Pixar we were dealing with, so she might just have to let the rivers run. We went to a Dory screening on Father’s Day, and we could hardly contain our excitement.

I wasn’t sure it was going to work out, to be honest. Lyla became restless during those 21 minutes of pre-show commercials and trailers. “Is Dory now?” she’d ask (quietly) after the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh trailer. She was so over the opening acts, she couldn’t even appreciate the adorable beauty of the animated short Piper.

Finally, Dory. And finally, a very happy Lyla. She was thoroughly entranced by Pixar’s latest jewel from the ocean, only falling out of the spell on a few rare occasions where her favorite character had left the screen. “Where’s Dory?” she’d ask (quietly). She got a little anxious over the fate of Dory’s parents, but the outcries were mostly hushed. I couldn’t have been prouder, especially with how tame she was compared to Talky Tim to our right or Jabbermouth Jacob a few rows back. And despite the emotional rollercoaster Dory took us on, not a single tear fell… from Lyla, at least.

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She did smash her mouth with popcorn again; at one point I looked over at her and had to pluck a kernel out of her tiny nose. And despite my best efforts to make it a pee-free experience with strategically timed bathroom stops beforehand, she did have to go about halfway through the show. (If anyone can tell me how Dory and Hank ended up in Poker’s Cove, that’d be great.) Her review of the movie was glowing. “I loved it so, so much,” she told me afterwards. I asked her what her favorite part was. “Everything,” she said.

I loved Dory, too, and I’m glad it will be the movie to go down in her personal history. I was never quite sure what age was appropriate to bring your kid to her first movie. I can say now that 3 is a great place to start. It worked for me, and it worked for Lyla. And it helps when the movie is terrific, too.