At that time I discovered that quite by coincidence, my previous viewing had been almost exactly four years earlier, and the one before that had been four years before that. These three viewings were all within a two-week span from the end of February. The one before them was closer to five years, but it was less than five years so it was still within that every-four-years pattern, for the most part.
Having written that post, I knew that when it came time for the next viewing, I would be too conscious by half of either continuing the streak or purposefully deviating from it.
However, the fact remains that when I started to get a Raising Arizona itch about a week ago, I did not specifically remember when I'd written the post linked to above. About four years ago seemed right, as I said that was the sweet spot for how often you should watch your #1 movie -- enough to maintain your high level of familiarity with it, but not enough to burn out on it. But I could only confirm the last date by looking it up, which I did only after I'd chosen Saturday night as the latest viewing of my highest ranked film on Flickchart.
Sure enough, this adds Saturday night into a viewing chain that now looks like this:
2/10/2024
2/29/2020
3/13/2016
3/3/2012
6/2007
(As I said in the previous post, I only started recording the dates of rewatches in 2006, and for the first 18 months I only recorded the month, not the actual day.)
I went a little early this time, according to the pattern -- but I guess that just contributes to whatever organic part of this there is.
Probably next time I'll be one step more aware of all this, and I'll recall that I happen to watch this movie in leap (and presidential election, and Olympic) years. But maybe I'll forget that too and have another sort of organic desire to watch Raising Arizona in 2028.
About a third of the way in, I did wonder if I'd gone too early in a different way. I have recently thought about how it might be time to show my kids Raising Arizona, as the subject matter is mostly inoffensive and they might enjoy some of the wildness and physical humor. I'd be breaking my viewing schedule of Raising Arizona in a big way if I end up just sitting down to watch it within them again later this year.
But on this viewing, I noticed a funny thing -- which continues the notion that you have new takeaways from favorite films on each new viewing.
Namely, Raising Arizona uses the word "fuck" -- but only once.
Nowadays, unless you are doing it for effect -- as they did in the third Guardians of the Galaxy movie -- being in for a penny of "fucks" means you should be in for a pound. If you decide to introduce the F-word into your movie, thereby introducing the rating restrictions that will likely accompany it, you might as well make it one of the colors you come back to regularly on your painter's palette.
Nope, Raising Arizona uses it just once: "So he's got his sandwich in one hand, and the fucking HEAD in the other." Thank you, M. Emmet Walsh.
This didn't offend my delicate sensibilities, but it did remind me that we try to prevent at least the younger of my sons from a knowing exposure to f-bombs. Which in turn reminded me that Raising Arizona is not, at its core, designed for kids who are only ten and 13. (Though interestingly, 13 was the exact age I was when Raising Arizona came out, and I know I did see it in the theater. That said, it was certainly not my favorite movie when I first saw it, and I was probably a little perplexed by it.)
When you've got something good, it makes sense not to go too early on it. When you've got a wine that will reach its peak taste in 2028, don't drink it in 2024. Wait until 2028.
So maybe that will be the best time to show Raising Arizona to kids who will then be 17 and 14. Or maybe I need to wait further still, to see if they consciously embrace cinema as an art form, which will mean they have a specific hunger for all the wonderful examples they haven't yet stumbled over in their array of age-appropriate fare. The stakes are too high to get this wrong. If I show it to them at just the right time, maybe they'll get exactly what it's doing and it will become a personal favorite for them too.
Hey, I know I'll be watching it every four years, and one of those chances will probably line up just perfectly with their specific stage of maturity as young viewers.
It occurs to me also what an interesting stretch of time it has been since I last watched Raising Arizona.
During my last viewing, COVID fears were just starting to dominate the news and nothing had been shut down yet. March 2020 was when everyone started locking themselves into their homes, so the last day of February was right on the eve of that. This was followed by all the racial strife in the U.S. as well as the blessed defeat of Donald Trump in the presidential election. Another year of significant COVID restrictions followed, and we have spent the last two years finally working our way back to normal. I guess I'm hoping the next four years will be a bit less fraught -- and will also not feature Donald Trump in any significant way.
Before I leave you, I did want to touch briefly on the artwork I've chosen for this post.
As this is now the eighth time I've specifically tagged Raising Arizona on my blog -- only eight? -- I've previously used variations on its poster enough times to run out of good options. (In addition to never repeating a subject for any of my posts, I also never repeat artwork.) So I wanted to choose a picture of H.I. McDunnough in that awesome shirt.
If anyone knows where I can get this exact shirt, please let me know, because I would wear it often enough that everyone would whisper about whether it was the only piece of clothing I owned, like what happened to Marge Simpson that one time.
By the way, if you go only on mentions of my favorite film and not on official tags, the number jumps up from eight to 47. That's more like it, and represents an average of three times a year in the 15-year history of this blog -- a frequency far more befitting of a #1 movie.
So I may only watch Raising Arizona once every four years, but it's always in my thoughts.
No comments:
Post a Comment