I don’t think they have a term for what I have. I guess I have to make it up. What do you call an addiction to the movies? Cineaddiction? That sounds like Sinaddiction. I guess we’re all addicted to Sin, it’s our depraved nature isn’t it? Anyway, I’m not writing about Sin (directly, at least) but my addiction to watching movies.
I love movies. I know what that’s called. Cinephilia. But, oh. That sounds disgusting doesn’t it? “He had a terrible case of the cinephillia. Eeeeyuck. Or maybe Kinetophilia. No, that’s the love of movement. You would have to say, Kinetographophilia. That’s too damn long. And I’m rambling. On to the main attraction, ladies and gentleman.
When I was in junior high, my first group of friends (who I’m still good friends with now) got together every Saturday night to have our weekly movie night. They were usually at my house, in our basement. Pizza was ordered, soda consumed, and the movie was chosen. Which film we picked was always very random. It was usually whatever stupid comedy that was popular around then. You know, the best work Saturday Night Live Alums were doing at the time. “Corky Romano” and “I Spy” are two films I still vividly remember watching at one friend’s house. ANYWAYS…
Every once in awhile there would be a random new girl who would show up, invited by anyone of us. Back then, I was a very passive romantic. I pursued women by either ignoring them, or smothering them. (I tended towards the latter, unfortunately). Either way, these new girls showed up every couple of weeks, and I quickly developed crushes on them. But as I said, my romantic skills were stunted, and I was incapable of, oh, how do you say “makin’ some moves”. In my stead, my male counterparts were indeed able to “make some moves”.
FLAMING JEALOUS RAGE! Did they not know my innermost secret desires? Were they unaware of such passion I treasured deep in my heart! Come on, they knew I had a crush on her, didn’t I call dibs?
No, I didn’t. So with raging junior high hormones, these Saturday evenings became very fiery for me. In the midst of my jealous rage, I had to distract myself somehow. I would be glaring at the girl cuddling up to my friend, and I would be screaming in my head “What the hell do you see in him?! What about me? Huh? I’m cuddly! Come on!” So I turned on my tunnel vision, and I stared directly into the TV screen. I soaked up whatever movie we would be watching. Who cares if it was starring Eddie Murphey or Mike Meyers, I was involving every fiber of my intellectual being into that movie, and truly escaped into the world of that movie. Anything was better than sitting next to the girl you just lost.
Well, as we grew up, our taste grew up as well. We just started watching good movies. No, we weren’t watching Bergman or Coppola, but we were watching what teenagers should be watching. John Hughes, Steven Spielberg, and others. My passive romanticism stayed intact. I never developed in the world of dating. At first, I would pour all of my jealous energy into watching whatever movie was on. But then Saturday night just wasn’t enough. Soon, I began to watch many more films. Nothing intensive, but popular, critical films soon caught my eye, like the Coen brothers, or the Godfather films. By the time I entered college, I was a decent film buff.
By the time college came, I was still in my shell. When I should have been out chasing girls, I was watching movies. Loneliness drives people to act. If you want to be with a woman, you get out there, you flirt, and you date. But I had learned (incorrectly) that any girls I take a fancy to will be snatched by some other guy I know. But it’s ok, I won’t be lonely. I’ll have the movies to keep me company.
As college progressed, I slowly came out of my shell, and tried dating. I was not good at coming out of my shell. I didn’t know how to date, just passively fall in love with the girls I was already friends with. So the little bit I tried, I failed, and into the arms of cinema I ran. That’s where the escapism really comes in handy. It’s lonely to be 21 in Spokane. But I can escape to LA in 2017, and involve myself with the adventures of Rick Deckard in “Blade Runner”. And I would always feel better. I would forget that I had no girl, and I vicariously lived the life of the character on the screen. It was like every time I watched a movie like “Blade Runner”, I could get what Rick Deckard gets, I too would win the heart of Rachel, she would fall in love with Me.
Well soon enough, I was watching a movie a day. All of my energy was poured into watching movies. It wasn’t all melancholy loneliness. I didn’t shack up in my room saying “Oh, woe is me, a man who suffereth from the single life, oh movies, deliver me from this sadness.” No, it was just how any addiction works. The substance of cinema feels essential to living. The more you do it, the more satisfying to your being, but the more you consume, the more you need.
So now, I’ve identified the root cause of the addiction. And since I’ve moved out here to Portland, I’ve actually come out of my shell. Sure, when it comes to social activity with a woman, a movie is involved. But, come on, dinner and a movie? Classic date…I don’t know what to do about my addiction to cinema. I understand now how it all got started, but now I’m just truly addicted. If I go a few days without watching a movie, I get edgy, depressed. After I watch a movie, I’m always in a better mood, no matter how dark the movie was. My need to know more about movies than my peers is turning me into a certified ass. But I guess I’m just writing this out as a confession. If I knew how to fix it, then I’d do it. Of course, I’m frightened that the answer is a fast from movies. But I was born for movies, how could I step back from it?
