New section: the classics of Imitation weekly

The inevitable monotony of the film award season can tire out  even the most passionate follower. That’s why I have decided to make a break just a couple of days ahead of the decisive Oscar nominations announcement to launch a new section in the blog: the classics of Imitation weekly.

As the self-explanatory title indicates, I’ll present one of my favourite classic movies on a weekly basis. The aim is not to provide a thorough analysis like in the case of the films I review for the regular entries, but rather to present you with films I truly love in the way I would talk about them with friends over coffee. Regardless of that, I’ll try to be as accurate as possible in the description and the factual information.

As for the scope of this section, American film theory traditionally points out at Sydney Pollack’s The Way We Were (1973) as the last genuine Hollywood classic film. That statement is not only highly disputable but also completely pointless for my purpose, since I don’t intend to limit this section to American films. I planned at first to include in this films made before 1970, but the thought of voluntarily relinquishing my right to talk about Altman’s Nashville, Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage or Truffaut’s Day for Night  is so unbearable that I have decided to extend in one decade the object of study and include any film made before 1980.

There is a strict spoiler policy in Imitation of Life. When reviewing films I always try to talk about them as comprehensively as possible without revealing any plot detail that might spoil anybody’s film experience when watching the film for the first time. When plot discretion is not possible (like in the case of the entry about my picks for most memorable moments in television history) I always include a spoiler alert warning in the text.

Therefore I would like to stress from the outset that there is a general spoiler alert for this section. There will be, however, different treatment for different films. I wouldn’t consider a spoiler, for example, to reveal the legendary plot twist in Hitchcock’s Vertigo or Ingrid Bergman’s decision at the end of Casablanca. The unforgettable and unexpected ending of John Boulting’s 1947 Brighton Rock, a film that I love but that is not, admittedly, as well known as Vertigo or Casablanca, would never be alluded to without the alert.

I have decide to open this section (see next entry) with John M. Stahl’s Leave Her to Heaven (1945), for the same reason that I will use in my choice of any film for this section: my unconditional love and admiration.