I love movies. It's part of the trade of being an actor. I have to love movies, and with this deep adoration comes an intense eye for scrutiny. Cinema (notice how I used the snobby word) is an art form like any other. It can be shit or it can be a buffet of deliciousness, meaning to say, its subjective. Everyone has an opinion, and often, in the modern world, these opinions and the demand to seem intellectually “on trend” separates us as viewers from actually enjoying movies. Instead, we dilute our experience into a catchy one-liner that’ll get us the most likes on social media. Not everyone needs to know you watched Nosferatu and found Count Orlock's mustache the sexiest thing since Top Gun 2. Movies are transports, not into another world but inside yourself. Take that mirror and shove it into your soul. Maybe you loved the facial hair because of some deep-rooted daddy issues. Hey, I don’t judge! And listen, I know self-reflection isn’t easy, but I believe that all good analysis starts from within. 

 

So, I thought back on all the movies in my life that had a deep impact on me. Whether or not I realized it at the time, or not. From The Thing, one of my favorite movies to Sweet Home Alabama, I spanned across genres, directors and plots to find where the film stuck me the most. The point inside that really got to me. My achilles heel, or soul? I rewatched them in the solace of my bedroom, with my phone thrown somewhere on my desk so I wouldn’t feel the need to mindlessly scroll when I’m supposed to be paying attention. Actually, my roommate and I watched Sweet Home Alabama together for a girls night. And during my cinematic reverence, I allowed myself to get…sentimental. Sappy, nostalgic. After they were done, I journaled the memories that came to mind. Sitting with my dad on a bench in England, fighting with my mom over clothes, my first real boyfriend. It makes you see things differently, when you look through a lens of the past. People get so tied up with the here and now, living in the moment, that they forget we lived for a reason. The lessons thrust upon us weren't for nothing.

 

It makes you see movies differently too. Makes you like a movie you hated at first, or hate a movie you loved when you were a tween. You change, and while the movie is still an hour and a half of the same scenes, your interpretation doesn’t have to be. I’ll take my entertainment with a side of personal growth, please. Movies are made for a reason. Money, power, politics. Escapism, activism. As an actor, there’s no escape from the corporate world. Hollywood and Wall Street are the same text in different fonts. When you get all up in the nitty gritty of cinematography and stylist choices, we forget what movies do for us; why they were made in the first place. And if I want to see myself on the big screen one day, I’m gonna mush it all up to fit the narrative I’ll create. Just don’t tell the writers room that, they’ll cut my character on episode 3!