OK, kids. Now that The Oscars are over (and whether you were #TeamArgo or #TeamLincoln or #TeamIDreamedADream, I’m sure we can all agree that it’s good riddance to this year’s particular brand of Awards season drama…) it’s time for a bit of entertainment that is all about NOT judging and embracing our … erm … wide range of … tastes.
Over the weekend, the Kitty Packard Pictorial played host to the I F***ing Love This Movie Blogathon,… which was, admittedly, bad timing for film fans (myself included) who were consumed with the Oscar frenzy (hence the day late post). But believe it or not, there were a few of you bloggers our there who were still able to make time to stop and get real.
Let the blogroll commence!
OK. Hear me out here. I’ve got a bazillion of favorite movies, OK? But you all have lives, and I can’t sustain readership probably much longer than it takes to read to the end of this paragraph. So. In selecting the film that I f***ing love, I decided upon a scientific process: I went through my DVD collection and selected the DVD with the most scratches, stains and other war-wounds evident of abusive viewing. And the clear winner here is Robert Zemeckis’ directorial debut, the 1978 screwball comedy I Wanna Hold Your Hand. I mean, god forbid anyone should ever do a forensic analysis on this DVD cover. I’m pretty sure there’s a wine stain, chocolate smudge and … hmm … maybe soy sauce from a chinese takeout ages ago? Whatever, it’s gross, and I’m ashamed.
But the movie inside this battered fortress, is Top 40 Solid Gold.
You know what they are. Those movies. The ones we conveniently slide to the back of our movie collection to keep our friends from knowing just how truly psychopathic we are. Or, for the more emotionally well-adjusted among us, proudly display front and center. Where it belongs.
We completely, totally, absolutely, unconditionally love every last frame of it. In fact, we effing love every last frame of it. This is the film we tune into on the days we’re depressed, deranged, delirious, or just plain determined to numb the pain out of this hurtful existence we call the 21st century. It’s the Bad Day At Work movie. It’s the My Ex Is A Total Jerkface movie. It’s the OMG I Totally Got The Job movie. It’s the I Just Paid My Rent And Still Have Money For Chinese Take-Out movie. Read more ►
Classic film fans have, over the past several years, embraced an emerging, and vibrant, niche community. This is highly evident right here in the blogosphere where, if I do say so myself, the very finest blogs on the interwebs are those manned by classic film fans (Shameless plug for Hollywood Revue, Backyard Fence, Out of the Past, True Classics, MovieStar Makeover, Sales on Film, Filmoria, and so many many many more amaaaaazing blogs — all of these and many more will rock your black and white world.) But the unsurpassed leader of this long-surpressed niche, is the cable network Turner Classic Movies.
A History Lesson By Way of Franklin Pierce, Stephen A. Douglas and Abraham Lincoln’s Really Great, Awesomely Bad Hair
So, there’s this obsession with the 16th president of the United States that I’ve had pretty much all my life. It hit me, all of a sudden, early in the 7th grade when for no reason at all I found myself crying because I was assigned to cover Franklin Pierce for our presidential reports instead of Lincoln. Our teacher assigned the presidents in alphabetical order and my surname came just two letters shy of “L”. And so the fate of Mr. Lincoln’s five page double-spaced, Times New Roman report was destined for a classmate who, bless his heart, was under the impression that every sentence ought to begin with a pronoun. (And, judging by his Facebook profile, this still appears to be the case. Not that I stalk old classmates on Facebook. Ever.)
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