I’ve appreciated the opportunity to write about my amateur thoughts and comments on movies in the past year through this column. While stressful at times — thinking about having to watch a new movie to write about or anxiously trying to pick an old movie to revisit — this process has been deeply fulfilling to me. Through writing and revisiting certain scenes, key ideas and motifs from media that have shaped a part of my identity or changed a certain way I think about things, I have learned so much about myself, what I value and the significance that films hold in my life as a pastime.
The first and most obvious thing I’m going to say is this: You should watch more movies. It’s not only that they offer valuable lessons about the world around us or how we come to value our lives, or that seeing stories unfold on screen allows us to confront the moral codes we live by — or reject — in a more tangible way, it’s that they let us understand these things through experiencing firsthand a spectrum of emotions and states of mind.
Films place us in unfamiliar and difficult situations, engaging us visually, auditorily and sensorially. For example, “Paris, Texas” (1984) — a movie I always cite and reference — has taught me so much about the detached pain and grief of love, a kind of sadness that resists expression. The emotional subtlety and visual minimalism of the film showed me how some forms of pain are so immense they end up defying direct articulation. By witnessing the emotional weight these films carry, we come to better understand the very ideas and moral questions they seek to explore.
And there’s something deeply reassuring in knowing there will never be a shortage of films to watch: Whether it’s an undiscovered old classic or a new blockbuster, creativity and storytelling have always existed, and they’re not going anywhere, at least I hope. Bottom line: the watchlist is never-ending, but time is limited. Make the most of it and watch more movies.
If I still haven’t convinced you, movies have always been a way to bring people together. I’ll miss the sleepless movie nights my housemates and I spent on our living room couch on school nights — ignoring our glaring academic responsibilities, then pulling all-nighters to meet our deadlines, all for 120 minutes of being completely hooked on some of the most random but best horror films and thrillers we’d seen. A late-night trip to the AMC past midnight to catch a visually astonishing masterpiece also makes for a perfect weekend activity, though I have yet to become an AMC Stubs member. I’ve also loved going with friends to The Brattle Theatre in Harvard Square and the Coolidge Corner Theatre, sharing an appreciation for classic films that deserve a modern rewatch. Looking ahead, I’m excited for the chance to finally become a regular at the IFC Center.
And finally, the bigger picture. Maybe I am an overthinker, but I’ve always believed there’s something larger to take away from everything. Try to learn something from a film, to draw meaning from it — simply because you can. But don’t overdo it; sometimes movies are just meant to be popcorn and giggles, and that’s okay too! Other times, we let our thoughts settle and linger, and suddenly, a film becomes a lasting source of inspiration.
As I graduate and move into the next chapter of my life, I want to reiterate the importance of staying true to your interests and passions — and making time for them. I’m no film critic, but through this column, I’ve made the most of an interest that means a great deal to me. This column will no longer be able to serve as the incentive keeping me on track with my watchlist of 520 movies, but I hope work doesn’t take that time away entirely — even if it’s just one film every two or three weeks. No matter how busy life gets, whether with school or work, make time for what you love, in whatever form it takes and whatever form you can.
Signing off now, but The Bigger Picture, in spirit, will not end here!
With love,
Linda
