
Michael Powell’s ’49th Parallel’
No matter how hardcore a cinephile you might be, there are always discoveries to be made in an old film never seen or even heard of. […]
No matter how hardcore a cinephile you might be, there are always discoveries to be made in an old film never seen or even heard of. […]
Ghosts. I guess we’re never very far from them. You can’t really see them, but they’re always there. They’re quiet. Every now and then, one pops up, moves the furniture and leaves. You turn around to see the drapes swish and your life has changed. What was that!? […]
When I was growing up in the 1970s, there were at least two cinemas in my town that used to play double features in the old tradition. […]
Perhaps because I work in this business, or just because I love movies so much, I’m always asked to define which ones I think are the classics. To me, that’s simple: First, when it’s on, I have to watch it — no matter what. […]
What if a gun had a soul? That was the question that was pinned to walls, doors and bulletin boards on the production of The Iron Giant. […]
If I had been asked 20 years ago whether a glass of rippling water would become one of the most iconic and recognizable images in cinematic history, I probably would’ve said, “No way.” But then again, I guess that’s not really a question you would ask an eight- year-old. […]
It was March 31, 1981. I was celebrating my second anniversary of becoming a union story analyst by watching the 53rd Academy Awards. The host was Johnny Carson and the field of films was perhaps the strongest it had been in decades. […]
They say that dogs are man’s best friends. The problem is that I didn’t have a dog when I grew up in the small town of Edinburg, Texas. […]
I am a war baby who grew up in Texas before leaving for a larger world that included living in Manhattan for 22 years and moving to Los Angeles to work as a story analyst. So, if what I have to say now reads old to anyone, well good — because old has a way of becoming new again, especially when old is as unforgettable as My Darling Clementine. […]
The 1970s were years of change for me. I was pregnant with my first child and struggling with the decision to either give up a career that I had worked long and hard to achieve or subject my unborn child to a mother who could be gone more than not. […]
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