Once upon a time, I loved film. It started when I was a child, when VHS was a baby and my parents would excitedly let me watch films they’d rented from the video shop, the ones they’d really, really enjoyed (and pre-vetted for anything too violent or too sexy, bless ’em). It continued into my teens, when I would often drag friends to the cinema to see the same film over and over. By the time I was in my early twenties, I was a fully-fledged film geek. I had my subscription to Empire, and give me a film title, and I could tell you who directed it, who acted in it, which films they’d appeared in before, who’d done the set catering, I could bore you shitless. I mean, like Neo “knew” kung-fu in The Matrix, I KNEW FILM.
But somehow, somewhere, in my late twenties and then slowly ever after, that was lost. I let go of the subscription. I was skint, and let’s face it, a magazine, or a bottle of wine? Pfft, no contest. I lost touch with all the new releases, what was in the pipeline. I carried on watching films, but I’d prefer to stick to ones I knew, I stopped wanting to Try New Things. I developed a love of the box set/series. Twin Peaks, Sopranos, Sons Of Anarchy, Breaking Bad, Walking Dead, Hannibal, etc etc. Hey, you could keep watching these as long as you could keep drinking and stay awake, in lovely, hour-long chunks. Feeling invincible, with a big supply of wine? Lets stay up till the wee small hours and watch 6 episodes back to back! Feeling jaded, hungover, tired? Hell, let’s just watch a couple, while we drink till we feel ok again. Remember much of it? Nope, not really..
So I think, looking back, alcohol robbed me of one of my big loves. And it’s only today that I’ve realised it had gone, and how gradually it happened.
Because now I’m sober, it’s coming back. Tonight, after a spontaneous purchase, based on an online Empire film review, we had a movie night, and watched Max Max – Fury Road. And It F*cking Rocked!!! Not to everyone’s taste, I’m sure. But it ticked a lot of my boxes; post-apocalyptic theme, gorgeous cinematography, sweeping soundtrack, kick-ass female lead. Oh, and Tom Hardy, looking quite, erm, you know, acting well.
I enjoyed every minute, I was totally hooked and emotionally engaged, and these were things I’d convinced myself weren’t possible without a good bottle of red. And I didn’t fall asleep either.
Right. I’m now trying to come back down off the adrenaline rush so I can sleep, and fighting the urge to randomly kick some bad-guy butt. Bed and chocolate it is then! Tomorrow, I re-subscribe to Empire. (Cue celestial light, singing, etc etc).
I bid you goodnight, from a happy, sober, and still-slightly-pumped Red xx