A Love Letter to the Film Festival…

This was the year I finally decided that movies were better presents than books.  For his birthday, I gave my dad two DVDs.  Not Blu-ray – plain old DVDs.  One was the Mel Brooks adaptation of The Twelve Chairs, and the other was the Woody Allen film Broadway Danny Rose.  I told him it was the best I could do – the recession and all.  For my brother’s birthday, which is later this month, around Thanksgiving, I’ve picked out a weird French film set in war-torn France called Triple Agent, and the amazing Noah Baumbach film The Squid & The Whale.  I hope my brother’s not reading this.

I have a history of going out of my way to see movies.  Going into the city, or to an out-of-the-way cinema co-op in some town nobody ever heard of, delving verrry deeply into the collections of the local video rental stores – before they all died – and, of course, drifting in and out of the autumnal film festival.

The Garden State Film Festival (from a guy who really, really likes movies)

I really, really like movies.

I’m pretty sure that I’ve seen most of them.

And I think very, very deeply about them.  For example, consider the Indiana Jones trilogy.  (Yes, it’s still a trilogy.)  I used to be a Raiders, Crusade, Temple guy, but, as I got on in years, I became a staunch Raiders, Temple, Crusade guy – because, awesome as Crusade is, you have to admit that it’s essentially a spiffed-up rehash of Raiders.  Also, in my opinion, the key to fully appreciating the series is recognizing that, technically, Indiana Jones rarely achieves anything of consequence when it comes down to the nuts and bolts of the narrative arc in all three films.  In almost every scenario, the villains bring about their own destruction.  (This even holds true for Crystal Skull.)  Indy, with the exception of some relatively crucial scenes in Temple, typically plays the part of an annoying-yet-righteous gnat, or fly on the wall, accomplishing little more than witnessing history, and never ending up with much to show for it.  (Except for “illumination”, of course.)  Think about it.