Also, the movies. . .

Right, the movies.


You weren't thinking I forgot about this aspect of the blog, were you?


To be clear, I have seen plenty in the past two years.


I've also been told by countless friends that I'm a bad film geek. Much as I'd like to, I can't say they're wrong. After all, I'm still making my way-slowly, really slowly-through the works of Robert Altman. I haven't yet explored Douglas Sirk, though I want to. I think Bette Davis may have expressive eyes, but, to be quite honest, I really just think that she should've perhaps gotten some medical attention. And, I think that [gasp here] Casablanca is hugely overrated. Yes, I have seen it on a big screen. Mostly, I just don't buy into the story. Get over it already.


Don't get me wrong, I still love the idea of film criticism. The picking apart scene by scene, seeing the film as a text, delving into the themes, etc. To me, it's no different than the critique of literature. And, you all know how much I enjoy that.


Mostly, though, what I love about going to the movies is the sheer sense of decadence of it all. In fact, since I joined the ranks of the working class, one of my favorite activities has to be the midday, midweek movie. There's something to be said about emerging from the theatre when it's still light out and you should be at your desk. In all cases, the film is almost irrelevant. It's the two or so hours where nothing else matters. It's just me in a dark room, surrendering to the story, forgetting myself in the process.


And, on that note, I leave you with this courtesy of the lovely Frank O'Hara. Read it. Live it. Love it.