This is the
first time in three years that my review count landed in the double digits, and
I reached that benchmark barely past the year’s halfway point. My total this year landed at 19. This breaks my previous record of 17 from 2021 and also outpaces the total haul from 2024 and 2023 combined.
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| I will always regret not reviewing The Holdovers (2023) |
In the past, I have let myself get away with checking out a
new film in the theaters but not bothering to compose a review after the fact.
Sometimes it’s because I’m just lazy. Sometimes it’s because I’m worried that
the film is smarter than me, and I’m scared of showing my limitation. Thus, I
have let really good films go unremarked upon.
I think it was in watching I’m Still Here earlier this year,
having the most profound experience, and feeling it was such a waste that I
wasn’t going to have anything to mark the occasion, that set me on the straight
and narrow. And I have all around liked what it did for my library to devote more attention to this kind of writing. Dare I say? I'm actually starting to get good at this reviewing thing.
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| Cinema Paradiso (1988) |
This was also arguably the first year that I figured out how to make my running list of "Professor's Picks" consistently enjoyable for me. I was able to get three out this year, and I already have designs for another, what I'm anticipating being my 200th post for this blog. My main drive, though, has always been my library of essays. The round-up this year ...
- Pan's Labyrinth: The Fantasy and Reality of Good and Evil - An exploration of the practicality of nuanced depictions of evil in the fantasy genre, anchored on the 2006 film, Pan's Labyrinth.
-1996: The Year Toxic Masculinity Died (sorta') - An analysis of two independent films, Beautiful Girls and Swingers, both released in 1996, revealing something about the state of masculinity during a specific period of American and film history.  |
| Beautiful Girls (1996) |
-What Does the World Owe Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs? - A tribute to the cultural and artistic innovations brought about by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
-The Notebook Has No Excuses - A catalogue of all the failings of The Notebook as a romantic film.
-Millennium Actress: How Personal is Art? - A meditation on the potential relationship between an artist's lived reality and their body of work, as seen through the anime film, Millennium Actress.
-JAWS: The Father of All Blockbusters Turns 50 - A retrospective of Jaws and its revolutionary impact on what we now consider "popular film."
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| The Little Mermaid (2023) |
-The "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" Question - A sympathetic deconstruction of the moral dilemma posed by consuming Seven Brides for Seven Brothers in the modern day. -"When Did Disney Get So Woke?!" pt. 1: The Disney of Your Childhood - A survey of the political and cultural contexts surrounding the behavior of The Walt Disney Company of the 20th century.
-"When Did Disney Get So Woke?!" pt. 2: Disney vs. the 21st Century - A rundown of the public cultural battles The Walt Disney Company has faced over the last few decades and particularly the last five years--with speculation for what it means for the company's immediate future.
-The Earthling: Some Observations About "Natural Masculinity" - A commentary on the popular construct of masculinity inherently championing emotional coarseness and repelling vulnerability, as reflected through the 1980 film, The Earthling.
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| The Earthling (1980) |
-The Apartment: What Makes Us Human - A dissection of how Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, and film as an artform, champions human connection and autonomy against a system that demands capitalist pursuits at all costs.
-Elemental: Savoring Pixar's Fading Light - A celebration of Pixar's Elemental alongside some musings on the unique obstacles facing Pixar Animation's future.
Identifying patterns in my essays this year proved more
trying than I’d anticipated. But some things that I did notice …
I’ve given a lot of attention recently to Hollywood during that period of transition in the 1970s. This is weird because my entire body of essays only spotlights two films from that decade—and I got one of them only this year. It’s just not a period of film history that I’m particularly drawn to, even though for many film lovers this was in some ways the birth of film.
Something else that's been on my mind ... most trajectories I've seen have a film enthusiast familiarizing themselves with the craft and building blocks of film first, and that is what enables you to study film and its social context. My college's own film program was structured that way.
But on the whole, the interests of my earlier essays focused more on the wider themes or else the social context in which these films emerged. Something like my Meet Me in St. Louis essay examining the purpose of musicals for a WWII audience. And it's only been somewhat recently that I have become focused on examining the semantics and mechanics of the film. This has mostly pertained to a film's writing, but more and more my interests are taking me back to the basic ingredients. Cutting images together and syncing them to sound.
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| Lonesome (1928) One of the first movies to have spoken dialogue |
In particular, I’m becoming more and more interested in those early, formative years of film. Back when those poor folks with the crank camera were still trying to figure out establishing shots or how you even got actors to speak into a mic. I’d really love to get another essay on a silent film out here before too long.
I’ve been very proud historically at how often I get to talk about Classic Hollywood films--both specific films as well as Classic Hollywood as an idea. But I'm also not totally mollified with my present body of work on this area because I don’t think the necessity for this focus has dimmed at all. The world still needs informed, textured discussion about film and its history, its legacy. And I don’t mean the film history that started with like Quentin Tarantino. The movements of Classic Hollywood bear profound effect on the Hollywood we see today, and we need to understand how.
So this next year, I’m wanting step it up with my analysis. My goal in 2026 is to actually alternate very tightly between discussing classic and contemporary movies. I’d like for every other essay to spotlight Classic Hollywood film. (I’d also like to increase my discussion on international film as well, though I have yet to set any specific parameters.)
I told myself at the start of this that I didn’t feel good about
diving into divisive topics, even though my very first essay, of course, was
me advocating
for Passengers, a movie that came frontloaded with a lot of controversy. I just told myself that it was going to be a one-and-done deal, and then I would leave the soapbox behind forever. A few years later when I did
my piece on Lamb, however, I also told myself that this was going to be
just one last time, and then I’d return to manufacture settings.
Over the last couple of years, though, I have been surprised
at how comfortable I feel exploring tumultuous conversations. I’m not a natural boat rocker, but I'm not so sure that those of us who discuss art can ever be truly apolitical, or whether we should even aspire to be so. I don’t think this will ever be a space where I am courting
controversy. Even so, I don’t feel so afraid of
hard topics these days, and I won’t be letting such things get in the way of me writing essays I’m
passionate about.
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| Ezra (2023) |
I always ruminate on the
kinds of movies I discuss. I have in the past, for example, expressed concern about choosing to examine movies without much coverage. In some ways, I am still chasing this.
The Earthling is probably the most obscure movie to receive its own essay. But movies like this tend to only receive one or two opportunities a year. There are just only so many slots available.
But this option also remains available in what movies I review. And this is another reason why I am trying to work hard to bring my notebook to the theater to make sure I am creating dialogue for a variety of films.
Last year, I also made the executive decision to preview some of the movies I was going to be writing about during the year, and I somehow lived to tell the tale. Following that tradition, help yourself to this sneak peek of next year's suspects.
And looking forward to the state of cinema as a whole, there are definitely reasons for film-lovers to be vigilant. Despite high hopes, 2025's box office failed to punch back after the COVID crash. And meanwhile, the casualties of the streaming wars only continue to mount while studio heads continue to show make reckless gambles with the lifeblood of film.
But in the days leading up to this post, I had a special experience hosting my nephews' first viewing of The Wizard of Oz. I've shown them some of the earlier Disney films, I know one of them really likes Pinocchio, but these little guys aren't really used to "older movies." The youngest in attendance, aged 3, was confused by the sepia-tones of the Kansas opening and wanted to watch a different movie. I bought his patience by promising that the twister was forthcoming.
I knew something was going right when Dorothy opened the door to Oz and sees color for the first time and saw they were all just transfixed. They were seeing something they had never seen before and did not even know was possible. I was watching in real time as they were discovering what cinema could do. The youngest fell asleep through part of the middle, but overall they were enraptured all throughout.
Now something to keep in mind is that "Oz" hasn't actually been a favorite of mine for a while. I respect what it did for the fantasy and musical genres, and I honor it as the ancestor to "Wicked," but it doesn't strike the chords of something like "Snow White" for me. But getting to really see it through a child's eyes for the first time in a long time, especially children whose parents haven't shown them a lot of old films, opened my eyes to just how magical movies can be--how magical they have always been.
And getting to light that fire in my nephews, who will maybe be less reticent next time they are presented with an old movie, it gave me some hope. It gave me space to envision a future where the rising generation sees movies as some means of divining something special, and that's something we all need to keep in focus. Even knowing that cinema continues to face legitimate challenges, I look forward gratefully to fighting that fight.
--The Professor
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| The Music Man (1962) |
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