The Movies That Made Me

Everything I know about myself I learned from moving pictures. Stationary pictures or “photographs” don’t cut it. They sit there motionless, begging for action, taking up precious wall space, silent and boring. How I dress, what I say, where I go, what I eat – all of it comes from film. Without movies, I’d be another confused fella frequently adjusting my aluminum hat for better reception. Occasionally, I’d make contact with a distant entity, but more often than not, the other line would lay dormant. There’s a reason radios haven’t found a way to incorporate Gyro sauce into their manufacturing. Unfortunately, that explains the tin foil I had to work with.

I never wore robes before seeing Matador Dreams. However, watching it altered the way I understood the world. Much like how serious robe lovers pay for imperceptible alterations to account for their lifestyle and anatomical contours, I changed my course. The film’s arc, a love story between man (Steve Guttenberg) and bull (Carol Kane), is far too complicated and explicit to elaborate on here. I will say this though – to disrobe, one must first be wearing a robe. 

I grew up starving – not just for artistic recognition and well-done chicken – but for catchphrases. My classmates tried to convince me that regular people didn’t have catchphrases. They repeated themselves, sure, but that’s not that same. I knew the premise was absurd. There were phrases in the air, I just had to catch them. The first one I adopted was the lovely “boppin’ on main street”, borrowed from the film of the same name. It's a very loose adaption of Robert Caro’s The Power Broker, with Robert Mitchum playing the Robert Moses inspired role of “Robert Jesus.” It’s about bulldozers, concrete, construction, eminent domain, politics, bonds, infrastructure, fairs, swimming in the Long Island Sound and half-melted ice cream sundaes on sweltering summer afternoons. And catchphrases.

I drink my coffee black because of Roasted!, a zany comedy about the journey of a single bean searching for a life partner. Spoiler alert – it ain’t cream. The bean, played by Gabe Kaplan, wanders from Colombia to Camden, New Jersey, bouncing between railroad ties and burlap sacks, avoiding every dairy product in sight. 

The reason I clap stems from the popular disaster film, Ash Wednesday. Redd Foxx in a rare serious part, stars as world-renowned volcanologist Russel T. Ember, PhD, warning the townsfolk of an impending blast. He finally gets their attention by clapping, pointing to the absent critters who’ve already fled their little town in eruption anticipation. “What do they know that we don’t?,” he asks. The film, while extremely heavy-handed in its chosen religious themes, nonetheless shows why clapping beats whistling. Except of course in an avalanche, which Dr. Ember is caught up in the lackluster sequel, White Christmas.   

There are more. How could there not be? Everything I do, everything I am, is thanks to movies. I bought stock in a startup apiary because of the beehive heist film, Follow the Honey. I write thank you notes to relatives, regardless of gift quality, because of lessons learned from Bad Gratitude. I floss in between meals because of The Molar Express.

I’m not the product of my parents or society. It’s movies that made me who I am today.