March 2025: early movie memories

This month's collaborative list prompt asked you to tell us about your early movie memories. We've got a couple of pretentious young Orson Welles enthusiasts, and a few writers who recount memorable theatre experiences, including some rather sneaky ones. As well, one of our writers will make his case for why Lego: the adventures of Clutch Powers dethrones Citizen Kane as the best film ever, and I'll get into the influence comedic French films had on me as a young girl.

If you didn't get a chance to submit your own response this month and regret it like Jason regrets not choosing to see Conan the Destroyer instead of Gremlins one fateful day in 1984, or some memories or movie titles happen to come up while you're reading this article, please leave a comment recalling those films or experiences with film from your own childhood.

Thanks so much to everyone who submitted a response, as we have more than ever this month, and these were just so fun to read. Go back to the Crash/Cut main page to see our current collaborative list topic, and make sure to submit your response before the end of the month.

-Hazel Cochrane, Crash/Cut co-editor

Touch of Evil (1958) | directed by Orson Welles | reviewed by Ryan Pierson

Orson Welles movies are confusing, even under the best of circumstances. (Anyone who tells you they didn’t feel at least a little bit lost on a first viewing of Citizen Kane is probably lying.) But to a thirteen-year-old me, watching only the second half on television, Touch of Evil was incomprehensible. Its latter half is a series of nightmarish set pieces. A kidnapping; a strangulation in a hotel room; a barfight at a strip club; a visit to a fortune teller (where the villain is told, with a chilling tenderness, “you’re future’s all used up”); an entrapment and a confession at an oil derrick; a shootout at a bridge—all shot in thick shadows, viewed through a baroquely wide-angle lens, and paced for a spacious, creeping sense of sweaty dread. Though I didn’t understand the plot or what was at stake, I felt I understood something of that tone and rhythm. I had recorded the film (I was already familiar with Kane and knew that Welles as someone to learn more about) and I watched the tape, over and over, waiting through that first half (which basically exists to set the second half in motion) so that I could dwell in the tone and rhythm of those set pieces. I did not yet know the formal language of movies, but I sensed that this one was somehow working its magic on me in ways that were tangential to, or bigger than, the story or the characters. It worked like music worked. It evoked feelings that words couldn’t reach.

Zazie Dans Le Métro // Mon Oncle (1960 // 1958) |  Louis Malle // Jacques Tati | reviewed by Hazel Cochrane

My parents showed me a huge variety of films when I was a kid--but a few that really stuck with me were two French films I saw when I was about seven: Louis Malle’s Zazie Dans Le Métro and Jacques Tati’s Mon Oncle. One weekend I watched Zazie Dans Le Métro with both my parents, and Mon Oncle the next night with just my mom and my sister. Zazie was just like me--a little girl with bangs, running around and causing trouble. It’s a very fun and beautiful film which I came to appreciate even more when I rewatched it a year ago. The filming and editing is so precise, and make this film’s slapstick very effective and memorable. It also would’ve been the first time I ever saw a crossdresser on TV--Zazie’s uncle is a drag queen. The next night, I remember my mom and sister and I laughing harder than ever, at a particular scene in Mon Oncle, where a long tube starts coming out of a factory machine and indenting itself, making it look like a long link of sausages which just keep multiplying. The absurdity of this scene and memory of falling over laughing with my mom and my sister made this film, and this particular scene, very memorable to me. I wanted to rewatch it after seeing Zazie Dans Le Métro again, but my mom didn’t understand why I’d remembered Mon Oncle being so great. She was right--I found the film quite long and boring, and not very fun to watch alone. However, looking back on my enjoyment of these two films has helped me understand how I’ve come to love absurd humour and F​rench cinema. Thanks, Mama and Papa, for exposing me to such odd films and teaching me how to be open-minded and appreciative of art.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) | directed by Steven Spielberg | reviewed by Lucy Schwindt

​I remember when I was growing up, the first time I ever recognized myself appreciating a theatre experience was when the Landmark by my house did a showing of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. At the time I had never even heard of the movie, I couldn’t have even told you who Steven Spielberg was, but my dad was so excited and I was told we had to go see it. I grew up in a household that loved sci-fi, Star Wars was a regular classic around the home and Ender's Game was a required read according to my dad. So when we heard this was playing, my entire family made sure to get tickets and we showed up nice and early and made sure to get hot dogs done up in all the dressings and the largest thing of popcorn they sold. And when I say I walked out of that theatre absolutely enamoured, it is an understatement. Not only was the movie incredible, as it had all the familiarity of the films I already loved, but the energy of that theatre was unlike anything I had yet experienced. There was the perfect blend of die hard fans anticipating each scene and people, like me, who were experiencing it for the first time. You could feel the energy in that room, and I was hooked. My entire family had ear to ear grins leaving that theatre and it showed me why I now believe seeing films in theatres is such an important experience. There is no other way you can see the influence of film like you can when you are surrounded by people watching the same thing as you in a theatre. Movie theatres will forever be one of my favourite places now because of that experience.

Murder by Death (1976) | directed by Robert Moore | reviewed by Shafiq Bhura

Growing up in Calgary in the 1970’s, access to theaters was downtown and not at a mall. The Grand, Palace, and Palliser theaters were our go-to choices, and accessed by Calgary Transit. My older brother and I would go to an early show, and then stay hidden in the movie theater for the early evening show, and if we could hold out, stay for the late show. This way, we could see the film three times and absorb every last molecule of the experience. We were only 11 and 13 years old, and this was way before cell phones; our parents knew nothing about what we were doing. Being immigrants to Canada, they were too busy at their second jobs on the weekend to worry about what we were up to. The freedom was exhilarating; the journey to downtown from the suburbs, the subversive nature of sneaking in extra shows, and the worlds we could experience on the screen was intoxicating. One particular film stands out in my memories, as we must have seen it every weekend for a month, and given our practice of multiple viewings, the total number of times we watched it must have been about 12. Murder By Death, from 1976, may not be on the syllabus of any film classes, but it's nostalgic, and an early memory of me falling in love with movies.

Citizen Kane (1941) | directed by Orson Welles | reviewed by Dylan Mansfield

I could not tell you what the first movie I saw was. I have fuzzy memories of seeing like, Gnomeo and Juliet in theatres when I was five (please don't do the math on that) but that's as far back as my mind goes. Movies have always been a part of my life in one way or another, but I can't remember where it all began. When I was twelve, I finally got access to a computer. It's not controversial to say, but: the internet fucking sucks. I don't need to elaborate-- we all know this. But despite my complaints, I think there are blessings to be had. Without a computer, I would not have had access to some of the great films at such a young age. This was how I first saw Citizen Kane. I think every aspiring creative has a desire to be "the greatest [x] of all time." Citizen Kane has a reputation as the quintessential movie, so of course, it was at the top of my twelve-year-old-boy list. It was my first black-and-white film--probably my first movie before 1990, too. Did I understand what was happening? No. Did I tell my friends on the playground that I liked it? Yeah, absolutely. Since then, I have seen Citizen Kane three more times. Obviously, as with anything of that status, I would not call it the greatest movie, though I've come to appreciate it so much more. Welles' direction, Robert Wise's editing, Mank's screenplay--what else can be said? It's certainly no Gnomeo and Juliet, that's for sure.

Gremlins (1984) | directed by Joe Dante | reviewed by Jason Lepine

I don’t know if this is the first movie I saw on the big screen, but it is the first memory that I can recall of going to the big screen. It was 1984, my mother had taken me to the Towne Cinema (now the Globe) and there were two films showing: Gremlins (1984, Dante) and Conan the Destroyer (1984, Fleischer). The reason this memory is so engrained in me, and haunts me to this day, was my choice of Gremlins (still a great movie) and the fact that I could have been able to say, 40 years later, that I witnessed Conan the Destroyer, in all its B-grade inferiority to Conan the Barbarian (Milius, 1982) on the silver screen. I know that I am in the minority, and of course as a kid how could I not be more drawn to that iconic poster of Gizmo. I still remember how epic it was seeing him fly around that department store in Barbie’s dream car; a fond memory for sure (also not a kids movie by today’s standards, but the 80’s were a reckless time pre- existence of the PG13 rating), but the memory, that could have been Conan in all his cheese and glory, will continue to torment me.…

Lego: The Adventures of Clutch Powers | directed by Howard E. Baker | reviewed by Gage Henry

Many films mesh together when I recall early movie memories. But one movie stands above the rest. This is also one of the only movies truly worthy of dethroning Citizen Kane. Lego: The Adventures of Clutch Powers, originally a marketing tool used to sell certain underperforming Lego toys. It was one of the few movies I would rewatch time and time again. Recently I revisited it upon coming across some old sets that were used in the film. The film more or less plays out like a dream, with the protagonist "Clutch Powers" hopping from theme to theme, with minimal congruence of genre. And this is truly what makes the movie so special. Truthfully, as a kid, I do not think I even knew that this was the same movie, but seeing all of these toys I loved come to life in a way I had not imagined, and this reframing of the world, is what first ignited my love for film. For this reason, and just the utter feverishness of it this movie is permanently ingrained in my memory, and is certainly one of the movies ever.