Moving Pictures.

Moving Pictures.

When I was a child, movies were magical.

The only way to see a movie was to go to the movies.  We did not have streaming.  We did not have computers.  We did not have Blu-Ray, DVD players, or VCRs.  Movies were shown in movie theaters. 

And we loved going to the movies.

When my father parked the car I was already excited.  I saw bright lights around the building, a large marquee sign with names on it, and people standing in line.

Sometimes we saw Klieg lights, those large lights that came in pairs and sent two rotating beams up into the night sky.  On a Friday night you would see them and beg your dad to follow them to the source.  He would.  It was an adventure.  Where are those lights coming from?  Sometimes it turned out to be a sale at the local car dealership, but other times it would be at the movie theater itself.

He would buy us tickets and let us hold our own.  The usher would tear it and give us the stub.  That made me feel powerful.  I had my own ticket.

I could smell the popcorn.  It was the best in town.  And they had candy that you could not buy anywhere else.  Movie theater candy was not sold in stores.  It was special.  You had to go to the movies to get it.

The theaters were large.  There were only one, two, or sometimes three screens at each theater, and they each had seating for hundreds of people.  Everyone saw the same few movies.  The screens were giant, and the rooms were packed.

An usher, dressed up in a jacket and tie and with white gloves, would walk you to your seat.  He or she held a small flashlight that focused on one spot in front of you.  You were being shown attention.  You felt special.

Great crimson velvet drapes with golden trim covered the screen.  The same crimson velvet drapes covered the walls around you.  It was a beautiful, grand place.  One of the hardest things to do was to wait for the movie to begin.

When it finally started, the lights dimmed.  The curtains opened.  An awe fell on the audience.  We watched cartoons.  Bugs Bunny.  Mickey Mouse.  It depended on which studio supplied the feature.  Then we saw some news and a short film.

Then the curtains closed.

The curtains opened again, and it was time for our feature presentation.

My heart beat with joy.

One of my favorite experiences was getting so caught up in the story that it was as though I were living it, and I would forget that I was in a movie theater.  Somewhere in the middle I would remember and I would be happy.  Then I would forget again and go back inside the story.

I saw Herbie the Love Bug--a Volkswagen Beetle that could do things on its own!

The Shaggy D.A.--a boy's father who turned into a dog, in front of our very eyes!

Swiss Family Robinson--stranded on a deserted island, living in a tree house, playing with animals, and fighting pirates!

King Kong (the one with Jeff Bridges and Jessica Lange)--that one really got me.  The adventure, the terror, the love, the pathos.  I understood that he loved her, but because of his size he was misunderstood, and dangerous, and he died.  I cried.

One time we came out of the theatre and a Volkswagen Beetle was parked at the curb, painted like Herbie the Love Bug.  I stood there waiting for it to do some tricks.  Longing.

When we came home, I lay in bed thinking about each movie, reliving the story, imagining myself in that world.  It was wonderful.

I also grew up in church, and the stories they told in Sunday School grabbed me in the same way.

And at school, when the teacher read to us or we read on our own, when we saw a film strip or had a live storyteller visit our school.  I lived inside those stories.

I read voraciously.  I lived vicariously.  I was lost in a world of make-believe.  Story-telling.  Imagination.

I felt alive.

Then something happened that changed everything.

In church one Sunday morning I went to the water fountain, and a boy named Jay, who was a little older than me, asked the question, "Have you seen Star Wars?"

He said it in such a way that I knew it was important.  He had seen . . . something.  I had to see it.

I begged my parents.

Back then movies would come and play for weeks and go away.  If they were popular they would come back again.  Since there was no other way to see a movie, the popular ones would come back to the theater sometimes year after year.

Somehow I missed Star Wars the first time around but saw it when it came back.  By then I already owned several of the figures made by Kenner, and had my own X-wing fighter, Millennium Falcon, and Death Star.

When my mother took me to see it, I was on another planet.  I was beside myself.  I watched every moment, every frame, with uninterrupted focus.  It was impossible to be distracted.  I lived every second.

I lived in that world for months afterwards.  I could recall the tension, the struggles, the funny lines, the battles, the relationships, and the victory of blowing up the Death Star.  Sometimes I was Luke.  Sometimes I was Han.  I wanted a cape and a light saber.  I wanted a vest and a blaster.  I wanted to fly.

How many times did that joy repeat itself?  Smokey and the Bandit.  The Apple Dumpling Gang.  Hot Lead and Cold Feat.  Superman: The Movie.  The Black Hole.  Moonraker.  Grease.  Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Are you kidding me?  Han Solo is now Indiana Jones?

It could not get any better.

My relationship to movies would change over the years.  VCRs came out and you could now rent things and see things you could never have seen before.  My friends' tastes changed in ways different from mine.  The movies that were aimed at my age group did not always make sense to me.  Not everything was magical.  Sometimes it was discouraging.  Sometimes movies made me feel bad.

I kept reading.  I read everything.  I lived in stories.  I went to school.

Then I focused on film.

When I was 10, I had made an animated short called "The Man Who Wanted to Go to Hollywood."

So after I graduated from grad school I moved to Los Angeles and started taking acting classes.

As an adult I have stayed connected to film.  Film is an art, and art holds up a mirror to nature.  Film helps us to see.  Film helps us to understand what it means to be human.  It helps us to understand the points of view of other people and other people groups.  It encourages compassion.

Film is also the culmination of the other arts.  All arts are contained inside of the art of film.  That is quite a thing.

And film is entertaining.  It brings joy to people.  It conveys ideas, vision, potential, hope, beauty.  When you're down, watch a great movie.  You will be inspired again.

This year I plan to write something about a different movie every day.  The movies are part of the Criterion Collection, films that are considered important to the history of world cinema for one reason or another.  Some are high brow; some are low brow.  Some are technically excellent; some are intuitively thrown together.  Some are amateur works that made an impact; some are masterpieces.

Most of them are entertaining.  All of them are worth watching.

Come join me on this journey.  Enjoy my posts.  Discover these films and filmmakers.  Watch some of the films yourself.  Allow your imagination to expand like the universe at light speed in all directions.

As we journey together.