When I was 12 I fainted to the flicker and whir of a film projector. It was in shop class.
Personal essays on the experience of cinema
November 13 I Feel the Earth Move
It was the beginning of summer 2009, I was 23 years old, and I was going to see where movies are made.
July 7 I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness
When I was very young, I was afraid of the dark. Then it became the only place I ever felt truly comfortable, or ever wanted to be.
June 28 Appeal to a Single Faculty
The other day I saw a film without the picture. Two films, actually, a double bill of What’s Opera, Doc? and Blade Runner at the Museum of Modern Art in which the bulbs had been quite deliberately removed from the projectors.
May 22 The Damnedest Thing
It may not seem like it from my description of things, but I was 100% sober, and completely enraptured by the horrid beauty erupting in front of me. Without question I knew that I was experiencing one of the most sublime moments of my life.
March 16 Please Have Fun at the Movies
Cinephilia takes hold when you realize that watching films in the theater is more enjoyable than viewing the same films at home, and goes past the point of no return when you find yourself committing to a complete retrospective of anything which you knew nothing about prior to its first screening and never actively sought out previously. That was me, for years, and then it wasn’t anymore.
March 8 Homo Alone
In the fall of 2015, I read this perfect sentence: “Motion pictures are for people who like to watch women,” a line I have since repeated endlessly.
July 12 When We All Got Together
Everyone I know who was cognizant of anything in 1975 remembers that summer like people remember their first sex, or first really serious high. Notoriously, everyone developed a perfectly rational demi-phobia about submerging themselves into water, even into a swimming pool.
May 23 Batman: Origins
Sex isn’t what made me take films seriously as art, but it’s what made me take the images seriously, recognizing in them the power to provoke untold unknowns in their witnesses—recognizing in them the power not only to incite desire but also to contain it, to become the tool of its expression.
May 20 Little Art Theatre, Harbor Village Square, Bargaintown, New Jersey
When I tell people I spent many years of my childhood in a movie theater, the usual response is something like: “Wow, you must have seen so many movies!” I did, at least I think I did. It’s hard to say. Most of what I remember about these years happened off the screen.