his words cut through me at that time: the authority of that man, the charisma, the apodictic contempt in that statement. So I accepted.
This is a very peculiar form of heresy. It's a form of Manichaeanism. And I call myself a Manichaean, a rather baffled Manichaean
Maybe, too, it was because I liked to recognize in A the “parvenu” part of myself: as a teenager I would crave dresses, records, and trips abroad, deprived of these things among friends who had them
a guy with a bad haircut, a slight, fey combination of Boris Karloff and Tony Perkins, self-righteous and self-consciously gentle
His early exegete Lotte Eisner called her book on German Expressionist cinema The Haunted Screen, but it’s only Murnau’s films that seem truly haunted, haunted from within
