It’s the Media Ball. You’re drenched in sweat; it’s a ceilidh and you’re nervous. Why? You’ve spent the last year locked inside your flat or the library, watching movies or thinking about watching movies. “This is good,” you thought to yourself at the time, “you’re becoming well-rounded, an intellectual.”The key word here is ‘thought’, for now you have to speak to the very people you’ve been avoiding for the last twelve months: humans.
You’re approached by a friendly-looking woman in a pink floral dress (something cottage-core? You’re not really sure what that means – you tend not to keep up with current trends).
“Toby!”
She seems excited to see you. Suddenly, you realise you know this person, she was a friend? From before? You try to think back to your life pre-Letterboxd but there is no mooring to which your memory may secure itself. You think you know her name… you realise you can’t commit, so you smile politely.
“How have you been?” she asks.
This is it, your big moment. You need pick the perfect response. You ask yourself, “What would Bill Goldman say?” Or maybe Greta Gerwig? Or Tarantino? No, not Tarantino, you don’t want to be “that guy”. Instead, you settle for something conventional, something—
“What are your top four favourite movies?”
***
The above scenario may seem absurd, but it isn’t too far from the truth of my life. Since January 1st 2024, I have watched 99 movies. To clarify, this article is being written on the 4th of April, meaning that those 99 movies have been viewed in 95 days. On top of this, I spent two weeks on Hinge during February in which I went on half a date and gained 7 Letterboxd followers. If it isn’t already clear, my love of film has become a substitute for a personality. I say “if it isn’t already clear” because this is something I only truly realised last week when I asked a university-employed guidance counsellor if she had ever seen any Damian Chazelle movies (she hadn’t).
To be honest, I’m starting to think I might have a problem.
Or, maybe I don’t.
Maybe the last 18 months (the period in which I have cemented my daily filmic ritual) have been some of the most interesting and fulfilling I’ve ever had. I watched movies released from 1902 to 2024; saw films in English, Cantonese, Korean, Spanish, French, German, Norwegian, Japanese, and Swedish; was exposed to directors such as Agnès Varda, Akira Kurosawa, Wim Wenders, Elaine May, and John Cassavetes. Certain films have profoundly altered the way I perceive the world, films like Perfect Days; Synecdoche, New York; F For Fake; In The Mood For Love; and The Graduate. Oddly enough, my screen-time is down, in spite of the two-hours a day I spend in front of the tele or, more likely, my laptop. Additionally, my writing has improved dramatically, albeit not enough to move from an aspiring screenwriter to a paid screenwriter… yet.
I suppose what I’m trying to get at is that, though I recognise I am incessant, I think I like myself more now than before I started this film journey. I have something that I am genuinely, wholeheartedly, passionate about. I’m someone who goes through micro-obsessions (Joan Didion, the psychology of UFC fighters, and smoothie bowls, to name a few) but film is the only one that has stuck. Maybe I’ve found my “thing”.
Part of the beauty of this particular “thing” is the community that is built around it. Some of my closest friendships originated in a shared love of filmmakers, be it Charlie Kaufman or Sofia Coppola. My role as Film Editor for The Student has allowed me to meet many others who share my obsessive tendencies. Some of whom, I hope, will read this article and find some solace in the fact that they are not alone. As I leave this university, and this role at the paper, I say to them, “thank you”. To everyone else, “good afternoon, good evening, and good night!”
Image Credit: Katie Cleland