A Question Even the Cap'n Can't Answer (?)

Here's a question for the casual reader, the fan of movies who doesn't consider themselves to be a "cinephile" or a "film geek": have you ever asked one of your friends (one that does fall into the two categories listed above) what their favorite movie was, only to regret asking what you thought was a simple question after they took far too long to name one movie, or worse, went off on a rambling tangent about the impossibility to "ranking" favorite movies?

It's happened; I know it has. I've been the guilty party who sat there too long in silence, mulling over the options - do I name something that I'm sure everyone has seen, something that is both a consensus "great movie" and actually is a joy to watch? Do I go left field and name something I know you haven't seen, in a combination of "impressing you with my obscure film knowledge" and "turning you on to something you wouldn't hear of otherwise"? Do I go with a movie that has a bum rap, that most people assume is bad because they heard it from someone who heard it from someone who read a bad review? Do I go with a sentimental choice, something I can appeal to on a basic emotional level, one that doesn't need a pointless, intellectualized persuasive argument?

Let's take a look at the combination "obscure film knowledge" and "turning you on to new movies" for a second, because there's a reason that temptation exists beyond ego stroking: by the point in time someone is willing to commit to a life of film theory / history / studies, it's clear to the people around them that this goes beyond a leisurely pastime. It's a passion, a need to learn more than most audiences will ever want to know, and it changes the way that the average film-goer behaves around you. More often than not, people ask me what movies I've seen that "are really good" or "are your favorites" because they want the Cap'n to go beyond the surface level, to exercise that fanaticism in a useful manner.

At the same time, I realize how frustrating it is to walk into that potential landmine, that most irritating of conversation killers. On one hand, you want to engage your "film geek" friend in conversation in a way that stimulates their interests, but on the other, you run the risk of letting them hijack the social atmosphere by hemming and hawing, letting someone else talk, and then abruptly jump in and begin dragging everyone into their world, their way of thinking, until the inevitable lapse into relativism of "well, they're all great to me."

The film "geek" and the "cinephile" belong to an insular lot, a group used to conversing in their own shorthand, where half a film quote is enough to get the point across about an entire genre or a director's entire body of work can be summed up by turning their last name into an adjective (for example, Lynchian*). It's not that deciding on a "favorite movie" is difficult, per se, but rather that inside of our little pockets of obsession, no one ever asks that question. There is an understood (albeit shifting) canon of cinema that need not be discussed regularly, that can remain unspoken until someone raises an innocent question.

At that moment, we're forced outside of a self-perpetuated comfort zone, one that allows us the freedom of criticizing other "Best Of" lists without being held accountable to our own personal lists (and we have them, even if we don't tell each other). It's a nasty trapping of fostering and becoming reliant on our cabal of film geekery - one that I as much as anyone else is guilty of. When I put together "Five Movies" lists, I spend an agonizingly extended period of time trying to find a balance of the factors from earlier, further compounded by the fact that the Blogorium attracts both kinds of film fans.

To close this out on a constructive, positive note, and to avoid the typical relativistic quibbling that would otherwise occur, here are some of my favorite movies, in no particular order: The Bridge on the River Kwai, The Blues Brothers, Sunset Boulevard, Down by Law, The Last Detail, Night and the City, The Americanization of Emily, Blood Car, Apocalypse Now, Mary Poppins, Eraserhead, Touch of Evil, Pinocchio, The Third Man, Psycho, Moon, The Wizard of Oz, Shaun of the Dead, Dazed and Confused, Day for Night, Throne of Blood, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, A History of Violence, Ghostbusters, The Virgin Spring, Murder By Death, Le Samourai, Mona Lisa, Back to the Future, Redbelt, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, Taxi Driver, Miller's Crossing, and Brazil.

Am I leaving things out? Oh yeah, but so it goes. Maybe you know every movie on that list; maybe you don't. It's always nice to turn people on to new films, just as it is to be turned on to something I never knew existed, so much so that I devoted whole chunks of programming in Summer and Horror Fests solely for that purpose. But that list is a good start, if you're just curious about film, it might turn you on and tune you in to new possibilities. That's a good start.

I hope I didn't take up too much of your time. For now.



* What would Lynchian be? Oblique, disturbing, vaguely esoteric assemblages of themes and imagery designed to confound the audience and prompt them to engage in heavy discussion after the film ends.