So, Gregory wants to know what movies you watch over and over. Which is actually a bit of a difficult question for me to answer, honestly, because I'm one of those types who will watch a movie a gazillion and one times and still never tire of it. Same with books. It's not that I'm not selective, just that I've been at this movie-watching and book-reading thing for a few years now 😉
To start with the movies:
- Labyrinth — I first discovered it during the impressionable teen years. 'Nuff said. Oh, okay. I love movies with a sense of whimsy about them. This qualifies. The final confrontation always gets my attention. That, and the masquerade inside the crystal ball.
- The Princess Bride — again, it's the whimsy. And the tongue-in-cheekness. The perfect moments are too many to mention
- Fight Club — for the mindfuck.
- Cypher — to be honest, this isn't the world's best movie. But there is something about it that catches me. I think it's Jeremy Northam's performance.
- Amelie — again, this owes a lot of its charm to whimsy. The lighthearted, slightly twisted perspective on reality just makes me happy. And that moment where Amelie turns to water with disappointment? Perfect.
There are more, but I'm going to stop there, because otherwise I'll just drag on and on and never finish this blog entry, and what use is that?
- Pride & Prejudice — for Lizzie. One of my favourite heroines. She's gutsy and articulate but not without flaws. And for Austen's narrative tone, which is always delightfully dry.
- The Mirror of Her Dreams / A Man Rides Through — for the world. Terisa is wonderfully but not irritatingly wan through much of the story.
- Dune — for the intricacy. And the scale of the story, beautifully combining the intimate focus on Paul with the wide focus on the Empire.
- The Real Story (but not the rest of the story) — for the structure of the story, and the way it plays with the villain/victim/hero roles. Which is the very reason I didn't like the following books, because they ignored (or underplayed) the ambiguity set up in the first book and took a more straightforward approach.
Again, there are others, but I'm getting too tired to keep typing. So, you know. You take what you can get, right?
What I will add, is that I remember having a discussion about the re-watching of movies and the re-reading of books. My colleague (male) attributed the impulse to women: women were more inclined to watch a movie again than men. (I think it's too broad a generality to be of any use, myself, but whatever.) He was most interested in why you would want to watch again a movie that was traumatic: why, for example, watch Moulin Rouge again if you know you're going to cry when you watch it? Why do that to yourself?
I could only shrug. Crying can be cathartic, of course. But, too, I think it has to do with savouring an experience, tasting it again and again. I love re-reading and re-watching because each time I dip back into that world I discover a new layer: nuances I hadn't noticed before, which deepen the experience. The first time is always more emotional; the later times I have the luxury of foreknowledge, and I can apply a more intellectual appreciation.