mon amour, Cinema.

At six-o-clock in the evening everyday, the blinds of my living room come down. My folks gather around the sofa to watch a movie. Each day I'm up, thinking not of breakfast, but of tonight's movie. Much time is devoted exploring Reddit and Letterboxed threads. Work is a blur; emails ping, phones are made, but all that's incidental. The humdrum of life takes over at times but the thought of films is merely side-lined, never shelved.

Recognising and appreciating good cinema is now more important than ever. The banality that permeates today's film scene is just plain appalling. The incessant parade of superheroes clad in outlandish tights, even their capes more expressive than them. Post-apocalyptic wastelands, a dime a dozen, worlds burnt and ravaged, the same recycled themes all around. I sit, bemused, as the masses gobble up these empty calories, these cinematic fast foods, devoid of the rich sustenance of true art.

The screens are cluttered with superficialities, explosions, and CGI spectacles, a relentless bombardment of the senses, leaving the soul untouched, unperturbed. Bereft of any nuance, depth, artistry.

Real cinema, it stirs, it provokes, it lingers in the mind long after the credits roll. It is a dance of shadows and light, a symphony of emotions, a journey into the very essence of what it means to be human. We need to bring back the days when the screen was a canvas, and the projector, a painter's brush, creating masterpieces that speak to the heart, the soul, and the infinite depths of the human experience. Some of my all time favourites:

The Best Years of Our Lives, a tale of the return, broken men finding fragments of themselves, piecing together their shattered lives, each frame a poem, each cut a breath. I, adrift in their turmoil, feel their pain, their joy, the magic of connection, the unspoken bond of shared humanity.

Network, the howl of a madman, truth wrapped in madness, a mirror to our follies, the madness of media, the insanity of society, a world unraveling before our eyes. I am the mad prophet, I rage, I cry, I see the truth buried beneath the spectacle.

Manchester by the Sea, a sea of grief, a man adrift, haunted by his past, the weight of loss, the ache of memory. The magic here is in the silence, the spaces between words, the unsaid, the unbearable. I am Lee, I am the broken man, I feel the cold, the desolation, yet I see the flicker of hope, the possibility of redemption.

Court, a somber dissection of the justice system, a Marathi gem, a stark tableau of the courtroom's theater of absurdity. The web of legal bureaucracy, a tragic emblem of systemic failure, so reminiscent of Kafka's The Trial. The brilliance of Court is in its silence, the unspoken truths, the stark, unembellished reality that speaks louder than any dramatic flourish.

The Father, a labyrinth of the mind, the disintegration of reality, a heartbreaking journey into dementia. I, lost in the maze, feel the terror, the confusion, the slipping away of self. I see through Anthony’s eyes, I feel his fear, his disorientation, the poignant beauty of the fragmented narrative.

12 Angry Men, a room, a jury, a battle of wills, the magic of words, the power of persuasion. I am in that room, I feel the tension, the claustrophobia, the struggle for justice, the clash of personalities.

The Apu Trilogy, a journey of growth, the innocence of childhood, the trials of youth, the wisdom of maturity. I walk with Apu, I see the world through his eyes, the beauty, the hardship, the triumph. The magic here is in the simplicity, the purity of vision, the profound humanity.

Aftersun, the lingering glow of a memory, a father, a daughter, a fleeting moment captured forever. The magic is in the tenderness, the intimacy, the ephemeral beauty of a shared experience. I am there, I feel the warmth, the love, the inevitable passage of time.

The Sea Inside, the cry for release, the longing for freedom, the struggle with existence. I am Ramon, I feel the weight of his suffering, the desire for dignity, the profound ethical questions.

Paris, Texas, the vastness of the landscape, the emptiness of the soul, the quest for redemption. I walk with Travis, I feel the isolation, the yearning, the possibility of reconciliation.

Much like in Paris Texas, Cinema is a journey, a quest, an endless search for understanding and connection. An open road with no slip roads and yet so much more beautiful than any destination.