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This feature runs in each issue of Universal Citizen, and offers suggestions of what to do with your leisure time, or how to enjoy what you already do to its fullest. The excerpt below, by Mike Pablo, is a look at what makes a film buff a film buff, and how to become one almost overnight. It is taken from the third issue of Universal Citizen.
Do you stay after the movie has ended and watch the credits in their entirety? Do you refer to "Top Gun" as `A Tony Scott film" instead of `A Tom Cruise movie'? Do the letters "DVD" send a surge of blood rushing to your nether regions? If someone asked you how your screenplay is coming along, would you have an answer for them? Do you know that a MacGuffin is not actually on the breakfast menu at McDonald's? Do you know who Alan Smithee is? If you answered yes to any of these questions, there is a good chance that you are, in fact, a film buff.
I will admit that I am a film buff. I love movies. Any kindwesterns, sci-fi, comedies, dramas, actionI relish the idea of taking an afternoon or night off (or morninghell, I once went to go see a movie at 9 A.M.) and being transported into somebody else's mind for two hours. The lights go down and they tell you to go buy some popcorn and I am in heaven. But I wasn't always like that. Becoming a true lover of film is something that has to be worked at and honed. Film is, well I should say that it can be, a very intelligent medium and you've got to bring a little something to the table in order to achieve full buff-dom.
My love for film started out at a very early age. Six, to be precise, just a few months shy of seven. It was May, 1977, and the world was about to be introduced to a phenomenon the likes of which have yet to be matched in the entertainment industry. George Lucas unleashed his epic "Star Wars" to audiences around the world. I was a kid, still in first grade, when my father walked up to me in the front yardI remember this like it happened yesterdayand asked me for the first time if I wanted to go to a movie with him. I had never been to a movie before, but I had seen commercials for them on TV.
"Which one," I asked.
"Star Wars."
"Star what?"
I didn't know anything about this movie but trusted that dad knew what he was doing. He took me to see it at the Uptown, Washington's grand dame movie theater over near the zoo. Looking back now, I suspect that the reason he took me there was so he wouldn't have to go see a hit movie at a nice theater by himself, something a true film buff must never be afraid to do. No matter what the reason, I was hooked. Twenty years later, I repaid the gesture by taking him to see the rerelease of "Star Wars," again at the Uptown. Amazingly, dad nodded off during the new and improved climactic battle scene, while his film geek son soaked it all up. The point I am trying to make here is that my movie watching experience started off at a very early age, and on a very high note.
Fast forward to seventeen years later. I remember with absolute clarity the moment I realized that I was indeed a film buff. I was watching the Oscars. For those of you keeping score at home, that was the Year of Spielberg, when "Schindler's List" was first in the minds of many Academy members, in addition to "The Piano," "Philadelphia," and "The Fugitive." Little Anna Paquin hyperventilated her way through her acceptance speech, Tom Hanks called his wife his "lover" and that poor bastard in the control room kept having to say, "OK, camera three, cut to Spielberg, again..."
It hit me when the Oscar was presented for best documentary. The winner was some woman whose film was about domestic violence and wife-beating, and during her speech, the camera cut to Laurence Fishburne, the actor who had played notorious wife beater Ike Turner. I got that. Whether that was on purpose or coincidental, I got the hilarious irony of that image which I thought probably went unrealized by an overwhelming percentage of the viewers. It was during the watching of this show that I realized, "My god movies! Movies! The greatest art form of the twentieth century!"
I don't know why my interest in the cinematic arts chose that particular moment to bubble over, but the next day I went out and rented Jane Campion's "The Piano" over the vehement protests of my brother and his friends and I haven't looked back since.
What does it mean to be a film buff? It means that when you watch a film you don't just watch it. You study it, look for the hidden meanings, look for the symbolism, admire the effort that went into putting those images and sounds up on that big silver screen in front of you. Movies are certainly escapist outlets, where people can go to be simply entertained. Not all movies can be considered art. In thirty years, nobody will have "Good Burger" on their list of the greatest films of the 1990s.
Film buffs know their history. They realize that there are certain films that need to be seen in order to be fully versed in `cinema.' The early works of Orson Welles, the gritty films noir of John Huston, the grab-your-seat suspense thrillers of Alfred Hitchcock, the silent brilliance of Charles Chaplin and Buster Keaton, the expansive westerns of John Ford. Film buffs recognize that when the baby carriage rolls down the steps in Brian DePalma's "The Untouchables" (or "Naked Gun 33 1/3 ," for that matter) it is an homage to the famous Odessa Steps sequence from Sergei Eisenstein's "Battleship Potemkin." Film buffs know that Humphrey Bogart never asked Dooley Wilson to "Play it again, Sam." Film buffs know that Leslie Nielsen's pep talk to Robert Hays in "Airplane" is a takeoff of the speech from "Knute Rockne: All American." Knowing the history of film and knowing specific details of some of the more important or popular movies of the past adds another level to films made today, like a special set of subtitles that only we can see.
Being a film buff also means that you study the movie and you notice little touches the film maker has thrown in, both technical and dramatically symbolic. You recognize the symbolism of the steam rising from the manholes in Scorcese's "Taxi Driver." You marvel at the long continuous take that opens Welles' "Touch of Evil." You wonder how in the world Quentin Tarantino got that Steadi-Cam through the hole in the fence so fluidly as he followed Bruce Willis in "Pulp Fiction." You laugh at Spielberg's `objects in mirror are larger than they appear' gag from "Jurassic Park." For the film buff, extra little touches like these and others show us that the people behind the scenes really put some effort into what they're presenting for our approval. When we notice things that other less observant film goers miss, get jokes that others do not, recognize that yes, indeed, that's what the director was trying to convey, we feel like we're really getting our money's worth.
Film buffs recognize bad cinema, as well. I'm not talking about movies like "Police Academy IV" (I'm going on the assumption that it stinks but it could very well be brilliant--I've never seen it). I'm talking about overly used plot devices, ham-handed script gaffes, and technical glitches that are so blatant they make you groan out loud. How many movies that allegedly take themselves seriously feature a demented villain who has a bomb that has a large red LED that counts down to detonation? You see that and groan, "Not again!" wondering if in these days of computer generated this and special effects that they can't come up with something more original.
In Joel Schumacher's "Falling Down," there is a scene with Robert Duvall in the police station that looked to my eye as if the lighting was totally off. I actually yelled at the screen, "
Who in the hell lit this scene, you friggin' hacks?!?!" I'm not kidding;I really did that. Fortunately for everybody else it was only me and my brother watching it in the living room, not in a crowded theater. When watching "The Lost World: Jurassic Park," how many people realized that when Jeff Goldblum's character mentions his daughter's upcoming gymnastics contest that eventually the little girl would be called upon to use those skills in defense against the dinosaurs? Come on, raise those hands.
Only us film buffs would get a certain satisfaction in seeing the screenwriter's name listed in the cast list as "Unlucky Bastard" (his cameo was him getting chomped by a T. rex). Film buffs notice the bullet holes in the wall behind Jules and Vincent in "Pulp Fiction" before the gun is actually fired and the scene, while not entirely ruined, is considerably lessened.
What follows is a list of film buff Commandments--rules that must be followed if you ever hope to proudly wear the title of "Film Buff." Unlike more traditional commandments, you will find these add to your enjoyment.
Being a film buff is not something that comes easily, or overnight. You have to work on it. But go into each movie you see, whether it be from Francis Ford Coppola or Ed Wood, with the understanding that what you're seeing is art. The director and the cast and crew have spent time and money and invested a lot of hard work to entertain you and tell you a story in the way they best see fit. Pay attention to what it is they've done, and you just might learn something.
THOU SHALT CHOOSE LETTERBOX One should always choose letterbox over the inferior "pan and scan" version for home movie watching. Would you cut Mona Lisa out of her frame and display only her head? Would Venus de Milo look good only from the waist up? The director is an artist, and the widescreen image is his canvas. To cut the image so it fits your frame is simply not acceptable. THOU SHALT REJECT COLORIZING Sure, certain films were made in black and white because there was no color film. But others were shot that way on purpose. The film maker expended effort to make his shot look good given the limitations of black and white film. What if somebody suggested that Mona Lisa would look better in a red outfit? Can you imagine the uproar over that? Just say no to colorizing. THOU SHALT WATCH THE CREDITS Those people busted their ass to make that flick you just sat through. Give them the reward of seeing their names on the big screen. THOU SHALT AVOID SEQUELS With few exceptions, sequels usually pale in comparison to the original. "The Godfather Part 2" was close enough to win Best Picture like the first one did, but it's still not quite as good. "A Shot in the Dark" was a lot better than "The Pink Panther." "Star Trek II" was better than the first one. "Goldfinger" and "Thunderball," rank at the top of the James Bond list. But for every one of those, there's a "Lethal Weapon 3," "Superman 4," "Rocky 5," or "Police Academy 7" (yes, seven!). If you aspiring film buffs ever get the urge to see "Free Willy 3," go out and rent something starring James Stewart instead; it'll be money better spent. THOU SHALT SHUT UP When watching a movie, please be quiet. It cost a lot of money to get that dialogue up on the screen; why don't you hear what they have to say. Laughing, gasping, crying, or screaming is OKit's probably what the film maker wanted you to dobut no talking, por favor. THOU SHALT BE AMAZED Being a film buff also means knowing when to turn off the microscope and let yourself be carried away by what you're watching. When the Millennium Falcon jumps into hyperspace, don't think, "Hey, pretty detailed model. I wonder how big of a blue screen they used and how many takes it took?" Let it go and jump into hyperspace with it. |
This article appears in the third
issue of Universal Citizen. This and other back issues are available from the address at the bottom of this page ($3 each). Universal Citizen
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