April 2025: Favourite Film Society Screening

As a celebration of the 2024-2025 school year, and an incredible year of Film Society screenings we invited members to reminisce on their memories with us over the years. With the prompt "What is your favourite past Film Society screening?" we got some really great responses. Everything from horror to romance, there is a sampling of all the different kinds of films our club has explored. 

To all the members of last years Film Society team (graduated or not), thank you so much for an amazing experience! 
-Lucy Schwindt, Crash/Cut Head Editor

Kill Bill: Volume 1 (2003) | directed by Quentin Tarantino | reviewed by Jason Lepine

I wish I had more time... Having a 7-year-old and full-time job doesn’t leave much opportunity to attend the screenings, however, as a returning student, I am finding myself much more invested in in what the University has to offer than I was when I finished my first two degrees in 2006. Rediscovering the Film Society (possibly a different name in 2006), and seeing how much it has grown, I am in awe of how many opportunities the Film Society creates to engage with film and with the group, it really is an amazing outlet for creative thought. However, let me take you back to the last Film Society screening I was able to attend. I was a fairly introverted student in those final semesters back in 2005 and 2006, I didn’t explore a lot of what the University had to offer. Being socially active meant physical presence (there was no Facebook, no smart phones, and social media that did exist meant tethering yourself to a desk). I recall a chatter about in the halls one day during my final semester, a film was going to be shown in the science theatres, and for only five dollars, I could see Kill Bill: Volume 1 (Tarantino, 2003). What a deal! So, I finally let my guard down a bit, and discovered the Film Society, and to my surprise, there were many people there that I knew from various courses I had taken. An immediately welcoming environment, the atmosphere was amazing, people engaged and enjoying the moment, and afterwards, talking about the film in a safe and open setting. I was so mad at myself for discovering this group so late into my academic career. I graduated shortly thereafter, and of course, work and life got in the way. To this day Kill Bill: Volume 1 remains the only screening I have attended, but it was impressionable none the less, not necessarily for the film that I had already seen several times by that point, but for the interactions the Film Society provided… Also, I don’t think I paid that night, so I still owe you five bucks!

*Note from the editor: It's okay Jason, we forgive you for not paying your $5. 

The Ascent (1977) | directed by Larisa Shepitko | reviewed by Ali Zareski

Russian cinema is extremely depressing—a national cinema known for vodka-soaked bleakness and Andrei Tarkovsky. The Ascent (1977) is Russian cinema at its bleakest, a world without hope. The film follows two Russian soldiers during WW2, who are captured by the Germans. They are presented with a horrific choice: join the Germans and fight alongside them or face execution. Nothing could prepare me for how silent the room would become; a pin drop would sound like a bomb went off. The film was screened in January, so the coldness and brutality of the Russian winter was felt viscerally. It’s one of the most unforgettable film experiences of my life, feeling the full weight of the film's tragedy with everyone else in the room.

The Green Ray (1986) | directed by Eric Rohmer | reviewed by James Marlow

Out of all the great film society screenings I have attended there is no question in my mind that The Green Ray takes my top spot. It was the first film I had ever seen directed by Eric Rohmer and it sparked a month long obsession centered around his Six Moral Tales anthology. For anyone that has ever struggled with being single for a prolonged period of time, The Green Ray is a persistent uncomfortable mirror that Eric Rohmer forces you to look into. He puts on full display the ridiculous human tendency of attributing a lack of achieving personal goals to bad luck, when in reality these shortcomings are a result of persistent negative attitude and a general lack of effort. The beauty of this movie comes from its ability to deliver this message entirely through subtext, rarely stating explicitly what could instead be conveyed through character development and symbolism. This is expertly paired with soft neutral cinematography that constantly delivers striking splashes of colour that catch the eye and add visual reprieve to the oppressive monotony of slow conversation. However this would all feel aimless and hollow if not for the powerful catharsis of the ending, removing any bleak sense of judgement and replacing it with a reminder that even the most self destructive of personalities is only one lucky moment from turning it all around.

The Living End (1992) | directed by Gregg Akari | reviewed by Lucy Schwindt

There have been many screenings that I have loved at film society, but there have been very few I left feeling as emotional as I did leaving the screening for The Living End. I was just so impressed with the caliber in which this film was made. Akari did such a wonderful job of capturing this kind raw and angry punk attitude, that comes with queer culture. He wasn't focused on making the topics of AIDS/HIV a sob story, he lends a certain kind of autonomy to his characters and it leaves a lot of freedom in the range of emotion the audience is subjected to. On top of all of this, The Living End was one of the first screenings I had brought a friend to at film society. As we were discussing it on our way out, I learned he was just as emotional and impressed as I was that it has stuck as such a vivid memory in my mind.