Death By 1,000 Films: The Return of Dan

Please watch the following video before you read this post.

It will not only make your day, but perfectly setup my wonderful column.

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Has it really been two weeks? Oh man, where did that all go?

Perhaps I was run off by a meddling old newspaper reporter.

Perhaps I'm sick of watching movies from the 1950s.

Perhaps hockey season started and football season kept going, and I found myself with little time to do anything other than consume college sports.

All of those things happened since I last spoke to you.

Let's start with the meddling old newspaper reporter. He, who we shall call Bubbledor, claimed to be wanting to help my writing. He said I used the word “heathen” wrong in a sentence when reviewing Apocalypto. He also said “the most advanced primitive civilization” displayed my lack of understanding the English language.

Perhaps, so... Usted, señor, me llevan demasiado literalmente y en serio. Bueno?

I spent the week readin-isin some wordes out of da-dum der book.

I kid. His football team lost in a pathetic display on Sunday, so all is not lost.

And let's talk about this black-and-white nonsense. I watched these movies in the last two weeks: Artists and Models (1955), The Apartment (1960), and The Asphault Jungle (1950). I broke it up with Atlantic City (1980). It's getting unbearable. I even did a count and found there are 153 movies on the list from 1950-59. I'm dead. I'm simply dead.

These films aren't even primitively advanced. Damn it, I'm still not using it correctly. Lo siento, Bubbledor.

Something kind of cool did happen while watching Artists and Models. It was digitally restored and colorized, except, apparently, this one scene. In it, there is a superhero portrait on a wall. It's supposed to be green. The reason I even noticed it was in the background was because it was black and white. I thought that was odd.

Then, the picture popped full of color for a split second, flickered for a few frames, and finally stayed colorized. This was my first instance when restoration “missed a spot,” if you will.

That process is obviously very primitive now, but perhaps advanced for its time. Hey! I think I used both words correctly. Bubbledor will soon e-mail me, I'm sure. That heathen.

The movies themselves were all fine, even if I can't effectively write about them. I especially liked Atlantic City, which showed that Susan Sarandon has aged quite well. Advanced-aged Sarandon looks remarkably like primitive Sarandon. Comments, Bubbledor?

Finally, hockey season started, and my life got increasingly more busy. I was driving to Canton and Syracuse during the week, interviewing players in person, over the phone, writing columns for the St. Lawrence hockey blog and the newspaper. I covered games on Friday nights and Saturday afternoons. Movies were quickly becoming a back-burner issue.

But don't worry, I'm alive and well, albeit bored with some of the old, old movies (Yes, as a 20-something, I think 1950s cinema is old, old. Sorry, Dad.).

I'll post the brief reviews and my movie list sometime Monday afternoon. For now, it's time to look over my hockey and football notes, call a player and try not to make any more egregious errors like calling the Mayans an advanced primitive civilization. You happy now, Bubbledor?