Movies: 5 sentimental favorites
My pal B.W. has listed his (current) ten favorite movies of all time on his blog. Every one of them’s a gem. But his list got me thinking. Could I create such a list myself? Probably not. My tastes fluctuate continuously. My moods change every day. I’d be hard-pressed to choose just ten. I’m afraid of forgetting something important. Maybe I could come up with ten in a particular genre. Or choose ten by director. Or actor.What I noticed about B.W.’s list is that many of his choices are sentimental favorites. His chosen movies have followed him around for years. He’s got life stories to tell about many of his choices. Now there’s a list of great movies I can generate: five of my sentimental favorites. Here’s what I came up with this afternoon.The Third Man — I knew Anton Karas’ famous zither score long before I ever saw the movie. In 1964, KFI radio in
Mary Poppins — My mom took me to see this Disney classic on the really big screen at Graumann’s Chinese Theater in
The Sound of Music — Again, age 10. Again, Julie Andrews. Notice a trend? It was spring of 1965 and my mother took my sister’s Girl Scout troop to a theater to see The Sound of Music. I tagged along. I adored the music and the romance. The Nazis frightened me. And 12-year-old Angela Cartwright stole my heart from Julie. I was following Angela into outer space on TV later that year. Again, during that trip to
Goldfinger — Still again, age 10. My friends Randy, Rex, and I had spent a Saturday morning driving my mom nuts. She finally stuffed us into the backseat of her station wagon, gave us each a few bucks for tickets and candy, and dumped us in front of the La Reina Theater in Sherman Oaks. “I’ll be back in three hours,” she told us, then sped west down
A Clockwork Orange — A Clockwork Orange, a sentimental favorite? Well, yeah. Here’s the deal. In 1972, I was 17 and dying to see Stanley Kubrick’s newest movie, an adaptation of the bizarre Anthony Burgess novel I’d read in a high school English class. But the movie had excessive violence in it. It had tits in it. Big tits in it. And at the time, before it received umpteen Oscar nominations, it was rated — gasp! — X (later reduced to an R). I was several months too young for admission, even with a parent. But one afternoon, my dad consented to buy us tickets. Nervous as hell, I got in. I loved the movie. My dad thought it was friggin' weird. I’ll never forget that experience. I love you, Dad.
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