Favorite Movies and Other People's Blogs

(Look! I'm famous!  I'm posting on the erudite, engaging Watching Ourselves blog!)

Before I saw The Royal Tenenbaums, I’ll admit, I was unfairly pre-disposed to love it.  The first truly cathartic experience I had in a movie theatre was in the late-run cheap theatre in a strip mall in Toledo, Ohio where I saw my first Wes Anderson film Rushmore (his second after Bottle Rocket).  I was astonished as I saw that a filmmaker had so crystallized my adolescent self, and crafted an epic tale about an over-reaching, excessively-articulate, insecurely-arrogant, self-styled creative genius.  As a 15 year old?  That was precisely who I had been.  (And, while adulthood had lent me many devices to mask it?  I am still that guy.)  So I came to The Royal Tenenbaums hoping for more of that drug, I was both hopeful and fearful that the film wouldn’t live up to my expectations. 

read the rest of my review here.

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