A Misunderstood Film Enthusiast
/Throughout my life, I have kept many of my passions a secret. I believed that their exposure would be detrimental to my social status. Now, being mature enough to understand that popularity is not nearly as important as I once thought, I have decided to periodically confess my guilty pleasures. This is one of those confessions:
The Thing (1982)
My earliest memory of film is seeing The Lion King with my grandmother, mother and sister. I was very young—three years old I believe—but I do remember the joy that I felt while in that theatre. The lights went down and though frightened at first, I succumbed to the comfort of this darkness and became entranced by the giant screen in front of me. I was thrown into the jungle with Simba and his family and became emotionally involved with the story—so much so that I screamed at the characters, trying to aid them in their ventures. The sounds of the film surrounded me and the darkness made everything vanish except me and the screen—the story—the art.
Since my first experience I have grown to love many films. Some of my favourites include Ghostbusters, Home Alone, Night of the Creeps, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein and Citizen Kane. All of these titles have something in common—they are all older than I am. This is a trend when listing my favourites; I have grown to appreciate older films.
This is more than I can say for many of my friends. Their taste in movies is more geared toward action and comedy of the current era, which I too admire in some cases. However, they do not tend to be crazy about my favourites. Once I decided to dip my toe in the water and lend my copy of The Thing to a couple of buddies who were looking for something to watch. With the return of the movie came laughter and teasing. With this I became quite embarrassed and decided to keep my movie preferences to myself. And I did so for quite some time.
I have since begun to understand that movie preference is not something to be embarrassed about or something that defines a friendship. It is merely one thing within a sea of likeness that sets me apart from my closest friends, and I have accepted that, and they will too.
Max Carrington is a 21 year-old writing student. In his spare time he can be found in the gym, at the movies, playing sports, listening to music or nestled in a comfortable spot reading literature.
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