I’ve felt the urge to go binge-watching classic films today, but I realized I’m missing my favorite part about them: my perfect buddy for classic films’ watching. Old Hollywood will never shine as much as it used to when he was sitting next to me on the sofa, holding my feet during the winter or complaining of me taking up all the space in the summer. Dad was my perfect film-watching buddy. He introduced me to classic films, I think one of the first ones we watched was Casablanca or some other with Humphrey Bogart in it –he loved his films. Or maybe it was a Laurel & Hardy one, we used to laugh so much with them. He hated Jimmy Stewart, and I liked to defend him in Vertigo. We had (I still have) Hitchcock’s full filmography, and I remember forcing him to buy me Audrey Hepburn’s too. Westerns were not our cup of tea (he always defended the Indians, and I would always suffer when a horse was shot down), but his most favorite fim was, exceptionally, “Stagecoach” (1939), with John Wayne. He was not a huge fan of Americans and patriotism, but somehow this film always lifted his spirits. I guess it’s kind of like what Bringing Up Baby does to me –it takes your mind off things for a while and makes you laugh. His favorite character was Doc (Thomas Mitchell). Or maybe Buck (Andy Devine), the greatest stagecoach driver ever.
I just remember the feeling of sitting there while having dinner, after a long week, immersing myself in whichever film we were watching that night, appreciating the little details and loving every single glimpse of “clean humor” and the clothing. Also, it was really comforting not having to worry about uncomfortable sex scenes while sitting next to a parent (I HATED THAT). Classic films always remained classy, I guess.
Maybe he’s the one who made me want to be classy by introducing me to the classy feeling of classic films.
For that, thank you, dad. You were the best classic films’ watching buddy I could ever had.