Time to Trim the Fat

I'm hankering to divest myself of about 100 DVDs; the convenience of Netflix has rendered my video library an unnecessary luxury, and I plan to dispense with most either through Ebay or some sort of yard sale.

In preparation last night I was going through the collection and trying to decide which films I absolutely wanted to keep, and based on the sheer number of times I revisit them, here are the films I must have in my house at all times:



I saw EWS in the theater three times and have watched the DVD in its entirety at least 10 times, and every time I see it I notice small details that shift or challenge my interpretation. This is also an aesthetically pleasing film.



I love everything about this film! The performances are great, the art direction and sets are sublime, the music is perfect, Lena Olin is nude, Polanski manages to be funny and spooky at the same time. I've seen this a dozen times and never tire of it. Mysteriously, Polanski explores much of the same thematic territory covered by Kubrick in EWS; the films even share some common scenes and scenarios.



Every time I see this I think "How can I watch this again?" Apocalypse Now is more than a film--I inhabit this film when I see it.



I've spent many hours in the Overlook Hotel, and plan to revisit it again and again. The remastered DVD is a revelation after my old washed-out VHS tape.



Another film, like The Shining, which manages to confine its characters in a wide open landscape cinematically shrunken by circumstance. Suffocating, dreadful, and mysterious. Wilford Brimley rules, as do the special effects. A film infinitely better than E.T.



Holly Hunter is simply the greatest, and I'm a huge fan of Harvey Keitel. I know a lot of folks don't "get" this movie; I think it's endlessly fascinating.







I could watch these movies back-to-back every month for the rest of my life and not tire of them.





I love Scorsese's stuff, and enjoy his more gritty, violent fare as much as anyone--but his two great religious pictures stir me profoundly. Scorsese's violent pictures always feature spiritual rejuvenation; his spiritual films explore the connection between suffering and redemption in more detail.



Daniel Day Lewis, Juliette Binoche, and Lena Olin--how could I not watch this over and over?





Cronenberg reminds us again and again that pain can be beautiful.



Fresh every viewing! I love it to death.

These will stay, but most of the rest can go (I'll hold on to all the Kubricks/Scorseses/John Carpenters/Cronenbergs/Lynches/Criterion Collections). I hope to rake in a significant chunk of change.