My basic underlying premise for initiating my-pov.ca – effectively it’s sole rationale – is that the Golden Age of Movies is here and now, smack in the 21st century. And my sole supporting argument for such a position is the following:
A Mighty Heart; Across the Universe; After the Wedding; Atonement; Away from Her; Babel; Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead; Death At A Funeral; Eastern Promises; Edge of Heaven; Il y a longtemps que je t’aime; In Bruges; La Sconosciutta; Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain; La Vie en Rose; Lives of Others; Non Ti Muovere; Once; Pan’s Labyrinth; Persepolis; Rachel Getting Married; Slumdog Millionaire; Syriana; Tell No One; There Will Be Blood; The Counterfeiters; The Diving Bell and the Butterfly; The Visitor; Two Days in Paris; Va, Vis et Deviens; Wall-E; Waltz With Bashir.
All these movies – and many more – have come out in the last few years. All tell me more about the planet I inhabit than the New York Times, the Globe & Mail, the CBC, the BBC, NPR, the New Yorker combined. Moreover I depend upon these movies. I trust them. They don’t hector or berate me. They transport me into worlds I would never otherwise visit. They introduce me to peoples I would never otherwise meet. They provide me insights that I would never acquire, left to my own devises.
I know that cognoscenti look back with fondness to the 1950s, that many believe 1962 to have been the vintage year of vintage cinephile years: David Lean brought out Lawrence of Arabia; Akira Kurosawa, Yojimbo; Stanley Kubrick, Lolita. In Italy, Fellini (Otto e Mezzo), Antonioni (La Notte) and Visconti (Il Gattopardo) were at the top of their game. In France, Truffaut (Shoot the Piano Player and Jules and Jim), Alain Renais (Last Year at Marienbad) Jean-Luc Godard (Le Mépris) and Jacques Demy (Umbrellas of Cherbourg) were reinventing film with audacity Ingmar Bergman (Through a Glass Darkly) was the profession’s resident mystic. That was then.
And this is now. Looking at these classics now, those treasures that transported me in their time, no matter how much I adore them, rescreen them, rock and roll back and forth across their classic scenes, I live in the here and now and plan to continue doing so for some time. The greatest movie, is the one I plan to see next.
A Mighty Heart; Across the Universe; After the Wedding; Atonement; Away from Her; Babel; Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead; Death At A Funeral; Eastern Promises; Edge of Heaven; Il y a longtemps que je t’aime; In Bruges; La Sconosciutta; Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain; La Vie en Rose; Lives of Others; Non Ti Muovere; Once; Pan’s Labyrinth; Persepolis; Rachel Getting Married; Slumdog Millionaire; Syriana; Tell No One; There Will Be Blood; The Counterfeiters; The Diving Bell and the Butterfly; The Visitor; Two Days in Paris; Va, Vis et Deviens; Wall-E; Waltz With Bashir.
All these movies – and many more – have come out in the last few years. All tell me more about the planet I inhabit than the New York Times, the Globe & Mail, the CBC, the BBC, NPR, the New Yorker combined. Moreover I depend upon these movies. I trust them. They don’t hector or berate me. They transport me into worlds I would never otherwise visit. They introduce me to peoples I would never otherwise meet. They provide me insights that I would never acquire, left to my own devises.
I know that cognoscenti look back with fondness to the 1950s, that many believe 1962 to have been the vintage year of vintage cinephile years: David Lean brought out Lawrence of Arabia; Akira Kurosawa, Yojimbo; Stanley Kubrick, Lolita. In Italy, Fellini (Otto e Mezzo), Antonioni (La Notte) and Visconti (Il Gattopardo) were at the top of their game. In France, Truffaut (Shoot the Piano Player and Jules and Jim), Alain Renais (Last Year at Marienbad) Jean-Luc Godard (Le Mépris) and Jacques Demy (Umbrellas of Cherbourg) were reinventing film with audacity Ingmar Bergman (Through a Glass Darkly) was the profession’s resident mystic. That was then.
And this is now. Looking at these classics now, those treasures that transported me in their time, no matter how much I adore them, rescreen them, rock and roll back and forth across their classic scenes, I live in the here and now and plan to continue doing so for some time. The greatest movie, is the one I plan to see next.
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