Confessions: a brief reflection on my viewing habits . . .

I was forced to swallow the dark truth about my viewing habits today, oddly enough by 1966's jolly Pyar Kiye Jaa, of all things.

If only this was an exaggeration. . .

However, I did watch Django Unchained, recently. And I HAVE made plans to get back to some Pre-code Hollywood watching. Maybe a little touch of some pre-censorship Norma Shearer and Clark Gable will remind me of the goodness of other industries again. Also, Todd at 4DK and the mind behind Soft Film  are slowly indoctrinating me into the possible awesomeness of classic Hong Kong cinema. I do really think one shouldn't completely pigeon-hole oneself into one genre. I will get into Malayalam film at some point as well . . . as soon as I find the right gateway drug . . . I'm almost certain of that.

Yet I must maintain that there's nothing like the comforting thrill of old Hindi movies. I crave the language, I adore the music, I'm addicted to the stories they tell and the way they tell them. Even when I'm tired of them, I'd rather be bored by a Hindi film than entertained by an English one. Yeah, I've got it bad. I don't think it's going to go away any time soon. My family may go away, though. Pretty sure they have a limit to how much Bolly-talk they will put up with. ;)


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