One of the issues I've noticed with being a film historian focused on the machinations of the film industry is that it has gotten me away from the very thing that drove me to re-enter academia in 1996: that is to say, film itself. So lately I've begun to rekindle this passion, by watching as much as I can, going out to the theatre as much as I can, but also thinking about the films that inspired me when I was younger.
The first film that I thought of as more than just a fun two hours was 2001: A Space Odyssey. When I was about 12 or so, the film was re-released and played in Indianapolis. Despite a snowstorm, I made my mother take me, my brother and grandmother to see it. I was completely enthralled. It might have been the first film I saw that attempted to communicate something about humanity -- our past, our future, our potential, our faults -- to suggest, even in a suitably subtle, cynical, Kubrickian way, the possibility of a spiritual facet to the vast expanses of space and to scientific progress. The monolith made perfect sense, the demythologizing of space in order to reinvest it with a sense of wonder moved me. My family hated it, much preferring the Mad magazine parody, "201 Min. of a Space Idiocy." Now I watch it at least once a year (probably the only film I own that gets that much play), and venture out to the theatre if I ever see a revival.
What are the films that similarly moved you? The film or films that first opened up cinema as an art form instead of simple entertainment, that you couldn't stop thinking about, talking about, even if -- especially if -- it drove your friends mad?
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This is not an answer to your question; but here are some scenes from movies, embedded in my preconscious, that the post made me think of. When I saw them, I don't know, but it was very, very young, before real "memory":
* Mrs. Havisham (sp.?) catching fire, crying "Pip," and jumping out the window in David Lean's Great Expectations
* Sailor boys spying on sailor girls in Mr. Roberts (or is it Operation Petticoat?)
* On the Town: Jules Munshin (or is it Sinatra? or Kelly?) being dangled over the edge of the Empire State.
* Flash Gordon and some evil princess getting it on in a rocket ship.
The recurrent themes are great heights and sexual arousal. You should avoid riding in elevators with me, at least past the fifth or sixth floors.
RK: ROFL.
I remember my brother and I making my mom take me to see Blade Runner because it was et in space and had Han Solo in it.
We caught a matinee and I remember walkng out into the late afternoon sunlight totally stunned. Star Wars really turned me on to movies -- that and watching Abbott and Costello flicks on Sunday afternoons while my dad napped on the couch -- and I had never seen anything like Blade Runner before.
It was the dark opposite of Lucas's romantic clap trap, plus it was, you know, good. After that I was hooked.
I have two…one strange, one expected...both very nostalgia-infused.
Strange: The Cotton Club
Although I can certainly understand why this incarnation of the Evans-Coppola combo might be underwhelming given their previous collaborations, I still think that it is a very underrated film. It was one of the first that my sister and I saw alone without my parents and therefore watching it gave me a feeling of autonomy, like my moviegoing didn’t have to be associated with authority figures anymore.
It was at the Edens theatre (in the northern suburbs of Chicago) which had a HUGE screen and we sat in the fourth row so there was that feeling of immersion – you had to turn your head to see the edges of the screen. The plot of the film is somewhat weak but it is very pretty to look at (both the visual style and the actors…Richard Gere, Diane Lane, Gregory Hines, Lonette McKee), it is set in 1920s New York, which is a period of history that I am completely fascinated with, and it has a great jazz soundtrack and wonderful dance sequences. This was the first (of many) moviegoing experiences that had me so enraptured that I actually wondered if it was possible to “be” a movie.
Expected: West Side Story
I taped it off of TV when I was maybe 11 or 12 and my life hasn’t been the same since. Yes, men dance to express themselves and George Chakiris has bad pancake makeup…but look at the production design, the costumes, the cinematography, the sheer cathartic power in the synchronicity of music and dance. Seriously, it’s hard to beat the Bernstein-Robbins-Sondheim-Wise combo (okay, maybe more the first three then the last one).
I have seen a great many movies over and over and over again but none (not even those by Hitchcock) rivals the number of times that I have seen this movie. I can recite sequences from heart…and even imitate some of the choreography (after a couple of drinks, of course). Pure pleasure and inspiration.
Michele, I too have fond memories of The Cotton Club. I don't know if I've seen it since it was first released (and my moms did have to accompany me, but that by that time she'd take me to almost anything), but I remember liking how stylized everything seemed. It just seemed cool. The friendship between the Bob Hoskins and Ed Gwynne characters was also well done. Is this on DVD? I should watch it again.
Interestingly, I was talking about this exact subject with my family during my trip to Idaho over the past weekend and I was reminiscing about the day my dad took me to see BLADE RUNNER - a day that rocked my 10 year old world! I spent the next month running around my backyard with my "broken" fingers taped together pretending to be Deckard.
Looking back it seems natural to want to recreate the action and drama, but when I think about how much the film affected me I know that it was more than just the action and plot, it was actually the themes, the style, the tone etc. that set it apart for me even at 10. Granted, many of these aspects were a mystery for me, but they were exactly that - a mystery that intrigued and attracted me. At that point I think the appreciation was subconcious - the experience didn't raise questions like "what did that mean?" or "how did they create that shot?" It was more about the unspoken emotional and intellectual world the film took me too, which is what I think makes cinema so important to me (and what also keeps me from going on for the PhD in Cinema Studies).
This leads me on to the next film that really did change my life at like Mookie it was 2001. I saw it for the first time at age 18 and although after my first viewing I couldn't initially explain much of what I saw it was such an exhilirating and stimulating aural-visual experience that I went straight to the library and checked out the first book on Kubrick I could find. To my delight I discovered that he was the creator of other films I had not only enjoyed but been mysteriously overwhelmed by (i.e. CLOCKWORK ORANGE, THE SHINING and FULL METAL JACKET). What I discovered was not only some helpful interpretation of the films (by Michel Ciment) but also a connection of sensibility with the artist. And I think for me that is what I've realized is paramount for me in my relationship with film, and that is the idea that the films and subsequently the filmmakers I've come to enjoy and cherish are the ones that I feel I share a sensibility with. This has been a two way street in that in discovering what films and filmmakers moved me it not only worked to define who I am but also to identify who I already was. In other words, these films both molded me and were molded by me.
So, back to the individual films that impacted me the most. I'll list three more that were seminal in my childhood whose general tone influences the way I live:
WILLIE WONKA AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY
BEING THERE
THE LAST DETAIL
THE SHINING (I had to repeat it again because I didn't know who Kubrick was at the time when I first saw it, but this film is part of my DNA -both good and bad)
In parting I would like to say that this topic is one I think about often and intensely.
"Anyway, you told me that it was going to be like Star Wars."
Oh man, how many times have I fallen for that one since I was 10!
Mookie, your brother rocks!
And Zac, your comment really gets to the heart of it. I didn't understand or even try to understand many of the movies that impacted when I was kid. Back then it was all about the mystery of what I had seen and felt.
That mystery is still with me whenever a movie really gets under my skin and compels me into a deeper relationship with it. That's why whenever I really explore a movie or filmmaker critically I am also always chasing some part of myself as well, some deeper understanding of who I am. That's part of why I believe that good criticism is and must be a creative act, on par with the works of art being surveyed.
Well put, man.
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