2008 Woodie Awards
Be Kind, Rewind
By: Liz Hunter
Issue date: 8/29/08 Section: TimeOut
Gather 'round, film philistines, prepare to be enlightened. There's a new girl in town, and she's successfully secured this weekly space in order to spread a little film love to the Clemson community. Though the name has changed, the film column continues, and for good reason. According to Facebook's statistics for the Clemson network, it seems as if the top three favorite movies among Clemson students are "Wedding Crashers," "The Notebook" and "Old School." Um, Clemson, we need to talk. This is an intervention. It's a good thing I'll be here all year; it might just take that long.
Allow me to introduce myself.
First, I should mention that I have three all-time favorite films. Beyond the top three, I have another collection of favorites that range from stodgy independent films to classics to horribly embarrassing and reputation-shattering guilty pleasures. I won't list any of the above for now, but each will probably become obvious enough over time if you continue to read my column. The point is - I'm versatile.
As a film student, I attempt to approach films as academically as possible, but I will admit that every now and then I abandon both professionalism and academia to passionately rip apart or swear allegiance to the films which move me to act with such reckless abandon.
I hereby promise to pollute the pages of this fine publication with as much unprofessionally composed blind favoritism (and hatred) as possible. From time to time, though, I also promise to do my job and attempt to deliver a fair and balanced critique.
The crappy name of this column exposes the fact that, as a writer, I am a fraud. Though the fact that I am now beginning my second column (after my first, ahem, award-winning one) would seem to indicate otherwise, the shocking truth is that I actually have very little imagination in regard to the English language; and even less command of it. It's the best I can do. Sorry, y'all.
This week's title also exposes the fact that my fraudulent tendencies lead me to blatantly rip off those who actually know what they are doing. I spent the entire summer reading Lester Bangs, and I can't seem to shake him. Accordingly, if I begin to sound like a slightly fat, more than slightly crabby, and perpetually drunk writer with a mustache, don't say I didn't warn you. By the way, if you don't know who Lester Bangs is, Google him immediately and save your soul.
Allow me to introduce myself.
First, I should mention that I have three all-time favorite films. Beyond the top three, I have another collection of favorites that range from stodgy independent films to classics to horribly embarrassing and reputation-shattering guilty pleasures. I won't list any of the above for now, but each will probably become obvious enough over time if you continue to read my column. The point is - I'm versatile.
As a film student, I attempt to approach films as academically as possible, but I will admit that every now and then I abandon both professionalism and academia to passionately rip apart or swear allegiance to the films which move me to act with such reckless abandon.
I hereby promise to pollute the pages of this fine publication with as much unprofessionally composed blind favoritism (and hatred) as possible. From time to time, though, I also promise to do my job and attempt to deliver a fair and balanced critique.
The crappy name of this column exposes the fact that, as a writer, I am a fraud. Though the fact that I am now beginning my second column (after my first, ahem, award-winning one) would seem to indicate otherwise, the shocking truth is that I actually have very little imagination in regard to the English language; and even less command of it. It's the best I can do. Sorry, y'all.
This week's title also exposes the fact that my fraudulent tendencies lead me to blatantly rip off those who actually know what they are doing. I spent the entire summer reading Lester Bangs, and I can't seem to shake him. Accordingly, if I begin to sound like a slightly fat, more than slightly crabby, and perpetually drunk writer with a mustache, don't say I didn't warn you. By the way, if you don't know who Lester Bangs is, Google him immediately and save your soul.
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