usa-uk-flag

 

 

I’ve been called many things in my life. Most of them are frequent utterances in R rated Scorsese movies. One name though, I didn’t have any right to until June 2008. That was when I traveled from England to the New World to marry my girl. Ironic, isn’t it? History tell us that people came to America in search of freedom — but that’s another blog.

I am a Limey and proud of it.

Everyone I meet in the USA instantly knows two things:

  1. I have an accent. (In England I was a talker who liked the sound of his own voice. In the US, I talk and everyone (seems) to like the sound of my voice.)
  2. I love cinema, film, and everything associated with it. Those nearest and dearest to me call it movie autism. The slightest hint of a movie, or a situation that reminds me of one, and my opinion is unleashed full force; wanted or not.

I have loved films, motion pictures, movies or as those fluent in Nadsat would call it, “The Ole Sinny” for as long as I can remember. The first movie I ever saw at a cinema was Steven Spielberg’s “E.T – The Extra-Terrestrial” at the age of 4 and a half. The first VHS my family ever rented was “First Blood” That’s right, the original Rambo movie and the only one of the series without Rambo in the title. Maybe they didn’t plan it, but by titling it that way, they separated it from the sequel fodder that followed it. That’s a good thing because the original is different in two important ways.

  1. Stallone actually acts!
  2. We aren’t predicting the ending right after the opening logos. (See also any Rocky movie with a Roman numeral after it, or the word BalBoa after it)

Okay, enough Sly bashing.

So how did I get from E.T to First Blood? One is suitable for a five year old, the other is not. Simple: When the VCR was delivered, the delivery man taught me how to use it. My parents took no notice. That worked out pretty well for me, huh? It did lead though, to an important lesson in reality violence vs movie violence. What’s real? What’s not? It didn’t stop there. If the violence wasn’t real, what else wasn’t real? Some people think that the “How Do They Do That?” of movie-making would lessen the experience. Not me. My suspension of disbelief lasts from the first frame to the last, and then the how’s and whys are part of the reward for getting through the movie.

I am a film geek and proud of it.

So, sit back, relax and enjoy the irrelevant ramblings of a movie loving Limey living in America. All ramblings are final but if you think I’m wrong, indifferent or hell, even if you agree with this wanker – let me know. Something on your movie mind? Let me know. Want my opinion on something cinematic? All you have to do is ask.

Looking forward to it.

See you at the movies.