Movies have an impact on all our lives. When I was a child living in a small Texas town, they helped open the world, showing me places and times in history that I never could have experienced on my own.
As I grew older, they helped me learn about kinds of people and ways of looking at life that were very different from those I had known in a somewhat sheltered life.
Now that entertainment opportunities have multiplied, a few big movies each year give us a common cultural experience, a shared topic of discussion--a rare thing in this era of specialization and personalization.
Here in Los Angeles, movies help drive the economy, especially since the collapse of the aerospace industry. This is an industry town, and that industry is making movies.
The first movie I remember watching was Stars in My Crown. My mother’s parents were ill the last third of their lives, and we had taken her to a nearby town to stay with them. On our way back home, Daddy and I passed the movie theater. The name on the marquee recalled a hymn we’d sung in church, and I asked if we could go. To my surprise, he agreed. This was the first and only time that just the two of us saw a film together in a theater.
In junior high, I recall sitting with school friends in a darkened theater, breathless with foreboding during The Creature from the Black Lagoon. What a disappointment to finally get a good look at the creature, who was all too obviously a man in a rubber suit.
By the time I reached high school, the movie theater in our little town had closed. That was the beginning of out-of-town movie dates. The first I recall was Adventures of a Young Man, based on Hemingway’s Nick Adams stories. I became a serious Hemingway fan that night.
My husband Frank and I went to several movies while we were in college in Abilene--Cleopatra, Zeffirelli’s Romeo and Juliet, Becket. I would sit in the dark, swept by strong feelings of love and sorrow. When the lights would come on, I’d be embarrassed to be seen, red-eyed and runny-nosed, by other movie-goers who didn’t seem to have been as moved as I was. Frank would lead me out, and I’d have my head down, embarrassed to have been crying over a movie!
Now we live in the historic “Heart of Screenland,” half a block from the old MGM Studios, which currently are owned by Sony. Our son Robert, who manages a video store, brings us new releases on a regular basis. And our family returns from time to time to sit together in a darkened theater to watch worlds and peoples we might otherwise never know, then talk for hours after about the shared experience.
In this month's website I've listed my favorite movies from each decade of my life, put down some thoughts about using movies in church, and shared an interview with our son Robert, the movie lover.
I’d love to hear what movies mean to you. Don’t hesitate to send me an email at b.silvey@sbcglobal.net.
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