The Movie Fan

The Movie Fan

I am a movie fan. A cinephile, in fact. I love cinema. Every month I'll buy Empire and Total Film, read them cover to cover. I spend hours on the Internet reading reviews of old movies, posting on message boards, searching for bargain DVD prices. Countless times have I tried to compile my all time Top 100 movies; every time I failed, or had to update the very next day having forgotten a classic that I had somehow omitted. My collection of films is vast, and I try not to think about how much I have invested in my collection. The problem is I never have enough, and I am painfully aware that, as stupid as this sounds, I will never see every film ever made. My knowledge will only ever be incomplete. I could be called obsessive-compulsive, but I don't know; the only reason I think this is that I saw the condition addressed in a movie. My ex girlfriend called me obsessive. She said I was too wrapped in my films to focus on real life She was wrong; I focused on her. Just not enough I guess.

Cinema was not something I had vast exposure to as a child, no more than anyone else. I never thought, at nine years old, that I wanted to be a director. True, my father was responsible for my early exposure to such cinematic staples as Zulu, the Star Wars films, The Dark Crystal. These stuck with me, as they did with countless other small boys. The ability to create another time, another world, another galaxy was amazing to me. It still is. When I was young, I saw many films that I was too young to see, or so the BBFC would claim. But at age ten, age ratings were a mere inconvenience, obstacles easily avoided. My parents would often let me watch these films. Robocop. Terminator. The Alien films. As long as graphic sex acts were not being shown, they did not seem to mind the violence and swearing.

Although those films scared the hell out of me, I would never say they warped my innocent mind, gave me violent tendencies. Nothing happened to me that the Daily Mail would claim is inevitable. I never considered re-enacting the torture scene from Reservoir Dogs on a classmate, never considered taking heroin because of Trainspotting. I have a strong stomach for cinematic gore and violence; and yes, I have seen some films that could be called shocking. Some left a bad taste in my mouth, were exploitative trash dealing in cheap thrills. Some had a point, could be considered art. I have no real desire to see a woman repeatedly raped under the pretense that the film is making some socio-political point. But don't think that I'm pro-censorship in any way.

I had a debate once with a work colleague about the depiction of rape in the movies. He was entirely against it, claiming that although it could, and can, provide an interesting topic for a film to address, there was no need to actually depict the act itself. By doing so, he claimed, the movie descends into dubious, voyeuristic, exploitative territory, ultimately undercutting the entire message of the movie. I saw his point, and told him so, yet I still disagreed. How, I said, can the true horror of such an act be conveyed without depicting it? He saw my point, and told me so. We never came to a conclusion; we agreed to disagree.

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I believe you can tell a lot about a person through their taste in films. Not just films, of course, books and records are almost as important, but as I've said, film is my main area of interest. That's what I focus on when forming an opinion of someone. Some may think me shallow to carry such views, but I think, subconsciously, most people work on this level. Maybe not film per se, but they'll judge a person using their influences. Not to say that a person is merely the sum of their influences, but I do believe that what you like is as important as what you are like. Think how you connect with another individual. OK, a scientist could tell me all about pheromones and body chemistry, but I know little about that, and I'm sure what I'm saying would tie into that anyway. You may meet someone in a pub. The conversation would go along the lines of 'what do you do?' and if the first hurdle is jumped, and the two answers are similar enough, then it will progress to things like 'have you read¦?' 'have you heard¦?' 'have you seen¦?' 'did you watch¦?'. The chances are that if what the two of you like is the same, then you'll get on well. Saying you like a film that deals with weighty issues shows how deep your still waters run, that you think about the bigger things, that you are a man more in touch with his emotions than others. If you read a lot, whatever it may be, it gives the impression of knowledge, again an ability to ponder the weightier themes. Certain people respond to this. Professing an interest in world cinema inevitably sorts out those who genuinely love film and those who have a passing interest. It impresses the right sort of woman. The trick is never to assert superiority, just hint you have vast depths of knowledge in a certain area. Which in my case is true.

If interests correspond enough, this sets up a greater opportunity for socialising. People like to sit around and discuss the things they like. I like to sit around and discuss film. Some say it borders on an obsession. I can relate anything that happens to me in my life to a film that I have seen; I often view my own actions through a camera lens. When I smoke a cigarette am I aware how it would look in a film. I wish I could be as eloquent as certain characters in movies, and realise that real life and my own actions are far more mundane than I would like. My speech is fractured, broken; I 'um' and 'aah', get interrupted, cut people off. Sometimes I wish I could speak to people in unbroken monologues, unhindered by embarrassment or self-doubt. I wish I could express myself in the way that they do. I resemble a character from the Band Of Outsiders; bored, unable to live a life without reference. The only film characters I can compare myself to are the ones that are defined by their influences, who sit around talking in coffee shops, doing nothing.

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I've seen rape first hand. I think it was rape; perhaps excessive pressure to consent. Maybe rough sex. Whatever the case, through my camera lens it was not exploitation; it was art.