I have trouble, on the one hand - in one level of my brain - recognizing cinema as an art form. Something tells me if it's not written, or sculpted, or painted, or cooked from scratch, it ain't art.
The other level of my brain says that if these people, who I dearly love and admire, consider film to be 'art', that they must be right. I can see a 'still' as being art, but the minute it starts to move, it gets all cartooney in my head.
Dialogue is something else. It can be written - and therefore can be read.
I am sure a lot of this nonsense stems from being allowed to read under the covers with a flashlight (like the grown-ups didn't KNOW). I spent my after-school hours at the tiny local library, and the librarian was a little old lady who was a regular dinner guest.
I swept up every day, just to help out. We had a chart by the front door (of the library) where 'readers' got a gold star for each book they read, and - at the end of the week - the 'winners' would get a prize - which I now realize was just a cheap little gold charm from the neighborhood five-and-dime. But they were real gold to me. I came away with the enjoyment of the reading itself, and the praise of the adults, which was priceless then, and probably not worth much now.
Part of the deliciousness of the written word.
I didn't 'get' the parts of this thread having to do with lesbians or any other such - will have to go back when I have time and see whassup.
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