Hallam Foe, Edinburgh 2000, Protagonist, Rataouille & Planet B-Boy
"You know, everytime someone says they don't believe in cinema, someone, somewhere makes a sequel to a bad movie."
I'm slammed head first into multiplex A&E. Pulse falling, blood pressure dropping fast. I don't believe in anything any more. A sugar rush of Butterkist popcorn barely gets me into the trailers.
And then suddenly a film arrives.
Let me take you, a director is saying to me, let me clutch your soul in my fingers for a while as I fly it across the rooftops of Edinburgh. Let me lift you out of your broken shell and drift, briefly into the shape of a fairer form than yours - say, Jamie Bell - as I show you enough that you recognise of yourself to believe that this is you, and enough that is alien to make you not sure what will happen next. And maybe, just maybe, if this is a good film, when you are thrown back to your all too human form at the end, you will feel better armed to tackle those woes and foes that have so broken you, and left you before this massive light show of make believe. Or at least leave you with the perspective that problems, like all good films, have beginnings, middles, and most importantly, ends.