Megan’s Blog #3: 06.11.07 ~ Guilty Pleasures
Is anyone addicted to Love My Way like I am? Haven’t zoomed through a TV series on DVD for so long - LMW has become my secret addiction, object of my affection, “gulity pleasure”.. Call me bourgeois. Or call me a lover of great TV-Film-TV. Stoked it’s a local series - can’t think of the last time I had ‘white line fever’ over a local show. Hats off and ’bout time.
Having plowed through Series I & II (thanks to my friend Peta who got me hooked), when I saw the Series III box set gleaming and winking at me in the front window of a record store in Newtown, how could I resist? I rang Peta on the spot. The question? “If I bought it would she go halves because it was cheaper than renting it disc by disc from the video store” (In the meantime I had also run across the road to local DVD library to check out the economic viablity of the proposition).
She said “yes”. I went for it.
It’s tragic really. Sick even. I’m a Love My Way “tragic”. Truly, seriously… tragic. Time to get a life. Grow up. Stop living vicariously through art… Or not.
Add similar stories (or hefty rebukes) here…
(…smatterings of applause…)
“Thanks for sharing, Megan. Anyone else have something to share with the group?”
I do. (Takes deep breath) Well, like Megan, I also have a problem. But it’s not an addiction to series TV. It’s film lists. I just can’t buy one DVD at a time. I have to buy an entire list of films, or nothing at all. I repeat, either (a) all the films in the list, or (b) none at all. It’s actually an illness. No, seriously it is. Well if it’s not an illness then it’s a condition. Or a syndrome. Anyway, the side effects of this disgusting illness/condition/syndrome are (i) the patient will lose entire days (I mean, like, 15 hours at a time) in DVD stores; and (ii) the patient will find himself in a never ending cycle of poverty.
Allow me to demonstrate the problem. So let’s just stick with the poverty theme and assume I was just about to buy the Criterion edition of Bicycle Thieves.
Well don’t assume, because I couldn’t.
I would think to myself, Bicycle Thieves, this is classic piece of Italian cinema. Oh no, there’s a list about to jump out at me, I can feel it… Okay, (and now the illness takes over) what I should do is buy Bicycle Thieves, Cinema Paradiso, La Dolce Vita, Amarcord, 8 ½, The Leopard, Life is Beautiful, L’Avventura, Divorce Italian Style and The Conformist. There that’s better, a more rounded cinematic experience. It’s important to view (read: own) as much world cinema as possible. So yes, it’s better to buy all 10 films rather than just one.
10 films instead of 1. Got it? Now, this is what happens 20 minutes later while I’m still in the DVD store:
Bicycle Thieves, now hang on a minute, that’s an Italian neorealist film. (The illness bubbles to the surface again) So therefore what I should really do is buy Bicycle Thieves, La Strada, Il Bidone, La Terra Trema, Paisa, Ossessione, Rome Open City, I Vitelloni, Nights of Cabiria and Rocco and His Brothers. There, that’s ten Italian neo-realist films that I can watch back-to-back, thoroughly immersing myself in this particular cinematic movement. I know what I’ll do, I’ll have a neorealist film marathon (a Neorealistathon?) and hopefully through some osmotic process I will truly connect in a meaningful way with the lives of the paupers in post-war Italy. Yes, it’s much better to buy a whole bunch of Italian neorealist cinema DVDs, rather than just one. You know, I’m actually glad I have this illness so that I can think straight at crucial moments like these.
That’s 19 films instead of 1. Half an hour later, I’m sitting in the corner of the store on my mobile phone trying to transfer more funds into my savings account, and this happens:
Wait. Maybe that’s not the right way to look at it. Maybe Bicycle Thieves shouldn’t only be thought of as an Italian neorealist film, but rather as an Italian neorealist film by Vittorio De Sica. Yes, that sounds more correct. Therefore I’ll buy Bicycle Thieves, The Children are Watching Us, Miracle in Milan, Terminal Station, Umberto D., Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, Shoe Shine, Marriage Italian Style, The Garden of the Finzi-Continis, and Two Women. There, now that’s ten films directed by De Sica. So now in addition to my Neorealistathon, I can have a DeSicathon.
Just so we’re clear, that’s now 28 films instead of one. An hour later I’m still walking around the store massaging my temples, and then this happens:
Hang on. No, that’s not really right either. The central authorial voice in the Bicycle Thieves was the key writer’s, Cesare Zavattini. I mean, the guy basically invented neorealism, for god’s sake. Therefore it’s more correct to think of Bicycle Thieves as an Italian neorealist film, written by Cesare Zavattini and directed by Vittorio De Sica… Now, I need to find more films written by Zavattini so that I can truly understand what this guy was trying to say - what he was really trying to get at. So what I’ll do is I’ll buy Bicycle Thieves, Fabiola, The Bride Can’t Wait, Springtime in Italy, A Husband for Anna, Ali Baba, Men and Wolves, A New World, Amanti, and A Brief Vacation. There. Done. A Neorealistathon, a DeSicathon, and a Zavattinathon.
So that’s now 37 films instead of 1. To translate, this is approximately $1,300.00 instead of $35.00. And I have to buy them all. It’s an illness remember. Or syndrome. Whatever.
But the problem doesn’t stop there. You see, whilst I was eventually able to categorise Bicycle Thieves as an Italian neorealist film, written by Cesare Zavattini and directed by Vittorio De Sica, wouldn’t it be more correct to say that it is an Italian neorealist film, written by Cesare Zavattini and directed by Vittorio De Sica, and starring Enzo Staiolo? You know, Enzo Staiolo the famous Italian child actor who would take lead roles in no less than 12 films in the 6 years following the release of Bicycle Thieves? Now what were those 12 films again?
It goes on like that until I eventually walk out of the store with nothing. My credit card has been rejected whilst trying to transact $8000 worth of DVDs.
And I want you to know that this illness/condition/syndrome does not discriminate. It doesn’t only strike when one is about to buy a timeless classic by a famous director, a film internationally accepted by film scholars and critics alike to be a masterpiece and one that all students must see. No. It works the same way at the other end of the spectrum as well.
Like, just say you look in the store window and see a copy of Foxy Brown. Wow, that’s one of the greatest blaxploitation flicks, right? Wrong. (The illness kicks in). It’s one of the greatest blaxploitation flicks, starring Pam Grier, written and directed by Jack Hill. And that’s just for starters. By the end of this particular episode you’re zigzagging your way to the counter juggling 140 films in your hands, mouth, armpits, and any other available body crevices.
By the way, a piece of advice to any fellow sufferers - stay away from Amazon. They have this thing called “Listmania”. Yep… Mania.
Thanks for listening.
“Keep coming back!!”
Awesome post!! Anyone else care to advise on dilemma?!