I’m still a child at heart when it comes to film. I watch movies on the large screen because I want to experience something larger than life, something that’s bigger than me but also relevant to me. I want to be changed … I want to be dazzled … and I want to be informed. I want to be sucked away to another world and leave the room one-two hours later utterly shaken, entertained or transformed. In graduate school, my critical film theory professors complained about my tendency to treat films as standard texts — focusing more on the content, character construction and narrative — while overlooking the myriad visual, aural and scenic elements. It’s true; sometimes I get sucked in by the story and forget to concentrate on the multiple external elements that construct a film. When one of my classmates started writing film reviews, his friends complained that he lost the romance of enjoying the film and stopped even watching films with the lights dimmed. But, I haven’t gotten to that place yet. Despite several years of graduate school and despite covering films every now and again for CliqueClack, I still treat film as something fresh and new.

Part of the reason I still act like a child on Christmas surrounding film because I only watch and review movies I care about. If I didn’t see movies I cared about, it would waste my time writing about it and your time reading it. I’d rather see something quirky and interesting, than something with high production values but watered down text scribbled by an eight-year-old. When I watched 50/50 and then Crazy, Stupid, Love last year, I excitedly e-mailed the CliqueClack gang about both films. They reminded me of the 90s when I couldn’t stop watching films that invoked emotional responses like Magnolia, featuring Philip Seymour Hoffman and Julianne Moore; Dream for an Insomniac, a quirky romantic comedy about an insomniac with Ione Skye; Spanking the Monkey, um … you don’t want to know what that’s about; My Own Private Idaho, written/directed by Gus van Sant about two male prostitutes; Shadowlands, surrounding C.S. Lewis; Carrington and Go!

That’s why I’m excited for the Philadelphia Film Festival. All of those quirky, independent, international, Sundance-Toronto-featured films in one place re-ignites my desire for film all over again. No doubt I’ll watch the films, become emotionally involved and forget all about the technical elements I shouldn’t. I’m most looking forward to the quirky Graveyard Shift films which appeal to my love of 90s-esque films. I’m particularly excited to watch Dead Sushi, a horror film about evil killer sushi; A Place at the Table, a documentary about restricted budgets forcing Americans to go hungry; Dragon, a demure paper maker turned badass local hero; Antiviral, by Brandon Cronenberg about a future world where people assume the illnesses of their favorite celebrities; Paradise Love, a vacationing woman desperate for affection encounters a local sex trade; Room 237, a fan look into the Shining; Comedy, a dark comedy about entitlement; and Future Weather, about a shoplifting environmentalist who re-encounters her grandmother. I especially love that the From the Archives category will feature Punch Drunk Love. And that’s just scratching the surface.

If you’re in the East Coast, definitely check out the Philly Film Festival. PFF is also looking for volunteers. So, if you love film but can’t afford the scratch for a ticket, then volunteer in the box office or wherever they might need a free hand. E-mail volunteer@filmadelphia.org for more information.

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