There are movies that we tell others about proudly; we put our stamp of approval on them and send our gold stars out into the world hoping that others will find the same love and pleasure out of their runtime that we received. There are also the movies we enjoy ironically. The terrible, terrible, beautiful messes that are works of trainwreck poetry. This column isn’t about those movies. This is about our dirty secrets. These are movies we love but keep hidden under the proverbial floorboards that in one moment could discredit every one of our opinions in every conversation, the fatal blow to any heated movie conversation. Every one of us movie lovers have them, and this is about celebrating the movies that we feel no shame for enjoying but which still remain nameless too often. These are our guiltless pleasures.
The end of the year marks a season of change for me, and I have many a reason to celebrate. Christmas is just around the corner, November 29th was the first of my wedding anniversaries (the one that legally tied us together before going to Cuba for a romantic beach wedding...Daryl is lucky to have SO MANY anniversaries to remember), and December 1st will be eight years since I figured out life is too short to not thoroughly enjoy and said goodbye to an abuser.