Think of the mind as a museum and each movie viewing experience as a potential exhibit. Some exhibits are cherished, put on display, and visited occasionally with great relish.
The movie Chinatown is on prominent display in my museum. I often pass by and inspect the crisp lines and subtle hues crafted into real art by skilled eyes and minds. It is one of a limited number of experiences worthy of a place in my hallowed halls.
And then there's Videodrome. I remember the day I stood on the loading dock, turning this piece of dreck over and over in my hands, scanning for any desirable quality. I found none. So, I tossed it into the dumpster, wiped my soiled hands with a wet-nap, burned the packing slip and sent the delivery man on his way. It was hauled away before I had time to shut the loading dock door. It wasn't worthy to take up space in my precious gallery. And now it's gone. Forever.
If you'd like to learn more about Roman Polanski's Chinatown, please press 1.
If you'd like another side-stepping responses about Videodrome, please press 2.
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