THE
HUMBLE BEGINNINGS OF A FILM BUFF by Ola Tjornbo
It’s
hard to fathom exactly what drives one to take the step up from just enjoying
films to developing an almost obsessive knowledge of them, but it's probably
boredom; all those hours that we spend alone need to be filled. Becoming
a buff gives you the perfect excuse to spend them alone at the cinema.
Unless you know someone as obsessive as you are, there is no way you’re
going to be able to drag a friend along to all the films you have to see.
Becoming
a buff is no easy decision, however. It requires training. You’ll need
to know not only a number of directors, actors and cinematographers, but
should also be able to talk intelligently about lighting, music and special
effects. Finally, you’ll also need an understanding of the development
of cinematic history. It can all be a little daunting but you have to
start somewhere, so why not start where I did?
A local
cinema is the ideal place to begin. When I was starting out, not a day
went by when I did not stop off at my neighbourhood picture house to see
what film they were showing that week and what special screenings they
had. Soon I was picking up on all of the major indie releases and beginning
to build up a solid base of knowledge, exploring films like Ghost Dog
and Boys Don’t Cry, that I would never normally have seen. I was
taking my first step into a larger world.
The
trouble is, that at this stage the film buff is no better than any other
layabout -- he could practically be just another student with time to
kill. So you have to move on. For me the next natural step was into the
past. Sure, loads of people saw Being John Malkovich, but how many
people have watched The Battleship Potemkin? Well, that was my
reasoning, anyway. If you’re lucky enough to live in a big city, chances
are that there’ll be some suitable repertory cinema to oblige you. If
not, you might have to start becoming a regular renter, though of course
nothing compares to the big screen. Stop seeing films only for pleasure
and start seeing them as an educative experience.
Soon,
your friends will no longer be able to keep up with your sage discourses,
and they probably won’t have the sense to admire you for your prodigious
knowledge. The sensible thing to do is to ditch them, but like me, you
probably won’t be ready for this yet. Instead, simply expand your search
for knowledge beyond the walls of the cinema. Pick up film magazines like
Empire or Total Film, and be treated to articles about the
man behind the special effects of The Matrix or the script doctor
who wrote the famous Dirty Harry speech.
With
the help of these magazines, and the internet, you could conceivably build
all the knowledge you need to become a true film buff, so if that was
all you wanted you could end your journey there, but lets face it, what’s
the point of having it if you can’t flaunt it? The time has come to seek
out other buffs. Over the years I spent at a university, I could perhaps
have made contact with my fellow devotees, but at that time I wasn’t yet
ready to choose film over my friends, and so for three long years my journey
stalled, plagued by the bonds of socialising. Luckily, my term in purgatory
soon came to and end. After graduation I discovered that there was nothing
like trying to survive in London when it came to destroying your social
life. Old friends were scattered all over the country, and those who remained
close at hand were busy trying to build lives for themselves. The time
of my ascendancy was at hand.
It
was then I had my stroke of luck. A colleague at work introduced me to
a film website with a whole chat room filled with film fanatics. Countless
conversations all revolving round the minutiae of film. Stumbling into
such an environment can of course be frightening for the young buff who
suddenly begins to understand just how small he is. One's own knowledge
of film pales to insignificance in the presence of the venerable masters.
What’s more, you are not likely to be welcomed with open arms -- film
buffs have learned to be suspicious and wary of strangers who might defile
their sanctuaries. But in order to fly you have to leave the nest, and
so, I swallowed my pride and began offering up my own humble opinions
for public scrutiny. In the early days, hardly anyone bothered to respond,
but gradually they came to accept me. I had become one of them, a newbie
to be sure, but a genuine buff.
So
was it all worth it? My real social life was ailing and I did little to
help it. Nobody was impressed with what I knew, and watching a film was
like dissecting a rabbit before lecturing a disinterested audience on
the virtues of its oral bone structure. Why should anyone bother to become
a buff? I can only answer from personal experience and say that despite
everything, I now love film more than ever. The process of committing
oneself so utterly to one thing must, I suspect, be a little like getting
married. As long as my partner keeps rewarding my affection I will continue
to love film. Perhaps one day our relationship will turn sour and end
in bitter curses and recriminations, but until then, nothing is as sweet
as young love.
It’s
hard to fathom exactly what drives one to take the step up from just enjoying
films to developing an almost obsessive knowledge of them, but it's probably
boredom; all those hours that we spend alone need to be filled. Becoming
a buff gives you the perfect excuse to spend them alone at the cinema.
Unless you know someone as obsessive as you are, there is no way you’re
going to be able to drag a friend along to all the films you have to see.
Becoming
a buff is no easy decision, however. It requires training. You’ll need
to know not only a number of directors, actors and cinematographers, but
should also be able to talk intelligently about lighting, music and special
effects. Finally, you’ll also need an understanding of the development
of cinematic history. It can all be a little daunting but you have to
start somewhere, so why not start where I did?
A local
cinema is the ideal place to begin. When I was starting out, not a day
went by when I did not stop off at my neighbourhood picture house to see
what film they were showing that week and what special screenings they
had. Soon I was picking up on all of the major indie releases and beginning
to build up a solid base of knowledge, exploring films like Ghost Dog
and Boys Don’t Cry, that I would never normally have seen. I was
taking my first step into a larger world. 
The
trouble is, that at this stage the film buff is no better than any other
layabout -- he could practically be just another student with time to
kill. So you have to move on. For me the next natural step was into the
past. Sure, loads of people saw Being John Malkovich, but how many
people have watched The Battleship Potemkin? Well, that was my
reasoning, anyway. If you’re lucky enough to live in a big city, chances
are that there’ll be some suitable repertory cinema to oblige you. If
not, you might have to start becoming a regular renter, though of course
nothing compares to the big screen. Stop seeing films only for pleasure
and start seeing them as an educative experience. 
Soon,
your friends will no longer be able to keep up with your sage discourses,
and they probably won’t have the sense to admire you for your prodigious
knowledge. The sensible thing to do is to ditch them, but like me, you
probably won’t be ready for this yet. Instead, simply expand your search
for knowledge beyond the walls of the cinema. Pick up film magazines like
Empire or Total Film, and be treated to articles about the
man behind the special effects of The Matrix or the script doctor
who wrote the famous Dirty Harry speech. 
With
the help of these magazines, and the internet, you could conceivably build
all the knowledge you need to become a true film buff, so if that was
all you wanted you could end your journey there, but lets face it, what’s
the point of having it if you can’t flaunt it? The time has come to seek
out other buffs. Over the years I spent at a university, I could perhaps
have made contact with my fellow devotees, but at that time I wasn’t yet
ready to choose film over my friends, and so for three long years my journey
stalled, plagued by the bonds of socialising. Luckily, my term in purgatory
soon came to and end. After graduation I discovered that there was nothing
like trying to survive in London when it came to destroying your social
life. Old friends were scattered all over the country, and those who remained
close at hand were busy trying to build lives for themselves. The time
of my ascendancy was at hand. 
It
was then I had my stroke of luck. A colleague at work introduced me to
a film website with a whole chat room filled with film fanatics. Countless
conversations all revolving round the minutiae of film. Stumbling into
such an environment can of course be frightening for the young buff who
suddenly begins to understand just how small he is. One's own knowledge
of film pales to insignificance in the presence of the venerable masters.
What’s more, you are not likely to be welcomed with open arms -- film
buffs have learned to be suspicious and wary of strangers who might defile
their sanctuaries. But in order to fly you have to leave the nest, and
so, I swallowed my pride and began offering up my own humble opinions
for public scrutiny. In the early days, hardly anyone bothered to respond,
but gradually they came to accept me. I had become one of them, a newbie
to be sure, but a genuine buff. 
So
was it all worth it? My real social life was ailing and I did little to
help it. Nobody was impressed with what I knew, and watching a film was
like dissecting a rabbit before lecturing a disinterested audience on
the virtues of its oral bone structure. Why should anyone bother to become
a buff? I can only answer from personal experience and say that despite
everything, I now love film more than ever. The process of committing
oneself so utterly to one thing must, I suspect, be a little like getting
married. As long as my partner keeps rewarding my affection I will continue
to love film. Perhaps one day our relationship will turn sour and end
in bitter curses and recriminations, but until then, nothing is as sweet
as young love.