Flipping through the channels last night, I was surprised to see PBS listing At The Movies and was instantly flooded with nostalgia. Watching At The Movies on PBS comprised a large part of my young adulthood.
This new show, produced by Roger Ebert (I remember him announcing it on his blog) is hosted by a thirty something woman and a twenty something man who are purportedly film critics of some repute. These days that could mean a high circulation blog or a low circulation newspaper.
All I know about her is that her name is Christy Lemire, she looks soccer-mom hot, and when given an assignment to list the five movies that made her want to be a film critic (the theme of last night's show) she listed, among others, Magnolia and No Country For Old Men. I don't quibble with her choices exactly, but did she just become a film critic yesterday and was it because her real estate license fell through?
All I know about him is that he looks younger than my Playstation 3, his name is unspellable and I suspect Klingon in origin, and, given the same task as the girl, he took a balls-to-the-wall approach and listed a D. W. Griffith movie (not Birth Of A Nation), a Jean Luc Godard documentary (I didn't even know Godard made documentaries) , a Jacques Tati film (F-you, Jerry Lewis!), some other really obscure film (that I think either predated celluloid nitrates or was produced in a country where there is no electrical current) and lastly Shoah, the five hundred and sixty eight hour Holocaust grind. He's deep, y'all. At least neither of them listed a Tarantino film.
Anyway, I just found myself missing my youth, going to my film school to play pretend Spielberg, then heading home to watch the surly, childish Ebert try and lord it over the unflappable but infinitely dull Siskel. I also miss giving a fig about movies in general.
Now Siskel's dead, Ebert's fighting cancer, and, according to the guy during the PBS break after the show, the U.S. Congress is about to eliminate all public television funding. And me? I'm just hoping for more superhero celluloid beat-em-ups, at least until the Mayan Calendar thing gets rolling.