Won't You Join Me?

I'm not what I would call very nostalgic. My childhood was in many aspects quite miserable and I can't exactly see myself gushing over how the movies of my childhood were simply "the best thing ever" or how I simply had such a good time hanging out with my friends watching late night TV, smoking on the street corner or breaking other people's property. No, I may be many things but I doubt nostalgic is probably not one of them. At least not for my own experiences.
Being a true lover of all things film is a very odd experience in many ways. Most people seem to have an expiration date for when the history of film stops being interesting or relevant and one of the most heartbreaking things of all is having your interest come up in a conversation only to have it backfire when you realize what most people already know; no one cares.
In a way I'm pleased about this. Having never really been close to anyone in my life having an interest that appeals to so few certainly gives me what can most accurately be described as pride. It makes it feel all the more special and even helps boost the warm feeling that emanated from inside when I sit down to watch an old favorite. But it is still heartbreaking. Because for as much as I love the fact that I in every social circle pretty much own the title of "Cineast" it still feels awful to know how few people around me realize how many fantastic movies came out before the aforementioned "expiration date".
In a way I can't blame or critique anyone for this attitude. Although more open to the notion of watching old movies than any other twelve-year-old I knew I still found it a very unappealing idea if ever suggested. In fact, before the Christmas of the year 2000 the only B/W movies I had ever seen were movies I watched on a TV which didn't have color at my grandparents old country house. No, it wasn't until I in a desperate act to kling to my American heritage through seeing Frank Capra's "It's A Wonderful Life" that I was properly introduced to real black-and-white movies. The attraction wasn't instant. After all, one movie hardly proves that black-and-white movies are still a valid form of entertainment. No, it wasn't until high school that I realized how truly excellent movies were. Don't get me wrong. Film had always been important to me; the perfect escape and proof that there was a life beyond that of the horrors of the schoolyard. No, what I mean is that once the adult version of whatever it is I am started to properly form, my appreciation for film grew from a mild infatuation to a full blown romance on par with that of all the girls I have ever loved combined. Be it old or new, a good story is timeless, be it biblical, Shakespearean or simply a dramatic piece made specifically for the silver screen and the older I got the more of a truth this became. Once I started studying film properly at the University of Stockholm my tastes quickly grew and evolved. I was introduced to concepts, directors, actors and eras previously unknown to me and my journey; the one I am still on and will continue to take until the day I die, started for real.
D.W. Griffith, Sergei Eisenstein, Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Rouben Mamoulian, WS Vandyke, Frank Capra, Michael Curtiz, John Huston, Howard Hawks, Francois Truffaut, Alfred Hitchcock, Jean-Luc Godard, Roger Corman, Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, Martin Scorsese and Joel and Ethan Coen. Mere spots on the enormous galaxy-map of directors.
This small segment is meant to start things off. To set the tone for what is to come and to explain who and what I am, and also what I one day hope to be. As I said, I am not nostalgic, at least not for MY childhood. The journey continues, and I now invite you to join me.