Alright. I have this problem. Once in a blue moon, I'll fixate so much on a film that I actually go through withdrawal when I'm not doing something related to it.
I'll cite three examples, including the latest.
When I was 12, I snuck into INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE. It left such an impression on me. Although I was obsessed with it long before it came out. I clipped things from magazines and hung them from my canopy so I could look at Kirsten Dunst in an inappropriate embrace with Brad Pitt. For months after, I wrote all this erotic fiction based on vampires and even tried to pen a novel in diary form that was more or less a rip off of Claudia. I felt pains for a week or so after every time I got into a conversation about anything but INTERVIEW.
But that was rather mild compared to VELVET GOLDMINE. Oh fuck me. I watched this film easily over 100 times. People say that all the time, but they rarely mean it. I do. So this is high school. I'm probably 16 or 17. I researched the fuck out of the film, the director, the actors(Toni Colette, Eddie Izzard, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Ewan McGregor, Christian Bale...), and the glam rock era. I actually made a fucking box called my "Velvet Box" (no jokes here) that was lined with velvet and covered with glitter on the outside. I kept clippings of lyrics from every song in that film, stills, and photos of the actors... most notably Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I bought a shit load of JRM's films on VHS. But what makes this one really so special... can be summed up in one vivid memory. I'm in the back of my parent's car and we're driving to some dinner/family function. I start crying inconsolably. Why, might you ask? Because it was physically painful for me not to be either researching, looking at photos, talking about or watching the film.
I could insert NOWHERE here, but I think that's a different beast. I don't remember the emotional rollercoasters like I had with aforementioned films.
Ok. I can feel myself starting again. On THE DARK KNIGHT. I can see all the symptoms. I've seen the film twice now (last time with a notebook) and I'm planning on a third at an IMAX theatre. And a forth on my own at a local theatre. I've kept myself from researching shit. But I talk a blue streak about this one. And when I'm alone, in transit, most notably, I get kind of melancholy thinking about how Heath Ledger is this generation's James Dean. I'm saddened that I can't realistically give myself a Glasgow/Chelsea Smile and expect to have a job in the field I seek. I have Heath Ledger's Joker in the cop car as my background and a bevy of other stills of him saved. I masturbate to the memory of him in the nurse uniform. I spent last night talking with a former instructor visiting from Chicago about it for 2 hours. Fueling the fire. I get a little depressed/frustrated/angry when I talk about the film with people who are either indifferent or not so keen on it... or who say it's great because everyone else says so.
I don't know why. But beyond recognizing it's an incredible film, it switched something else far more dangerous inside me. I spose I just need to let it run its course and try to be somewhat productive and make a film analysis on it sooner rather than later. Right?
oh fuck. By the by. The Glasgow Smile: the corners of your mouth are cut slightly. You are then punched, usually in the stomach, making you cry out and rip the flesh, causing a much more prominent scar than any cut.
Randomly. The 2 photos my father keeps on his desk of me:
Not so randomly...
sigh.
I'll cite three examples, including the latest.
When I was 12, I snuck into INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE. It left such an impression on me. Although I was obsessed with it long before it came out. I clipped things from magazines and hung them from my canopy so I could look at Kirsten Dunst in an inappropriate embrace with Brad Pitt. For months after, I wrote all this erotic fiction based on vampires and even tried to pen a novel in diary form that was more or less a rip off of Claudia. I felt pains for a week or so after every time I got into a conversation about anything but INTERVIEW.
But that was rather mild compared to VELVET GOLDMINE. Oh fuck me. I watched this film easily over 100 times. People say that all the time, but they rarely mean it. I do. So this is high school. I'm probably 16 or 17. I researched the fuck out of the film, the director, the actors(Toni Colette, Eddie Izzard, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Ewan McGregor, Christian Bale...), and the glam rock era. I actually made a fucking box called my "Velvet Box" (no jokes here) that was lined with velvet and covered with glitter on the outside. I kept clippings of lyrics from every song in that film, stills, and photos of the actors... most notably Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I bought a shit load of JRM's films on VHS. But what makes this one really so special... can be summed up in one vivid memory. I'm in the back of my parent's car and we're driving to some dinner/family function. I start crying inconsolably. Why, might you ask? Because it was physically painful for me not to be either researching, looking at photos, talking about or watching the film.
I could insert NOWHERE here, but I think that's a different beast. I don't remember the emotional rollercoasters like I had with aforementioned films.
Ok. I can feel myself starting again. On THE DARK KNIGHT. I can see all the symptoms. I've seen the film twice now (last time with a notebook) and I'm planning on a third at an IMAX theatre. And a forth on my own at a local theatre. I've kept myself from researching shit. But I talk a blue streak about this one. And when I'm alone, in transit, most notably, I get kind of melancholy thinking about how Heath Ledger is this generation's James Dean. I'm saddened that I can't realistically give myself a Glasgow/Chelsea Smile and expect to have a job in the field I seek. I have Heath Ledger's Joker in the cop car as my background and a bevy of other stills of him saved. I masturbate to the memory of him in the nurse uniform. I spent last night talking with a former instructor visiting from Chicago about it for 2 hours. Fueling the fire. I get a little depressed/frustrated/angry when I talk about the film with people who are either indifferent or not so keen on it... or who say it's great because everyone else says so.
I don't know why. But beyond recognizing it's an incredible film, it switched something else far more dangerous inside me. I spose I just need to let it run its course and try to be somewhat productive and make a film analysis on it sooner rather than later. Right?
oh fuck. By the by. The Glasgow Smile: the corners of your mouth are cut slightly. You are then punched, usually in the stomach, making you cry out and rip the flesh, causing a much more prominent scar than any cut.
Randomly. The 2 photos my father keeps on his desk of me:
Not so randomly...
sigh.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
winter_davis:
I think continuous laughter would be a better way to go for The Glasgow Smile. I don't usually see the corners of someone's mouth move when they moan from a punch. Oh, what if you don't cry out at all when punched? It sure is a pretty one though, isn't it?
tournee:
Movies are things easily fixated on. Your third profile pic with the vibrator and toy is hilarious!