Shock Corridor

Howdy. I've been thinking about doing this post for a while, but for one reason or another I shied away from it, I'm still not convinced that it isn't gruesomely self-indulgent - but it has got some film stuff in it. I'm sorry for the size of it (something I've had to say way too often in my life in various situations). Right if you're still here - I have Aspergers. I'm very low on the scale and some people oddly take great delight in telling me that I don't have it at all and some even get pissed off about it, no idea why that should be. This is by no means a "Hey every body feel sorry for me" post, or a "let me off for being a prick, I'm special" post because I'm not and nobody should. I am happy with Aspergers, or at least I'm happy knowing that I have Aspergers, as Paddy Considine said when he was diagnosed fairly recently,  'It's allowed me to make sense of so many things I didn't understand before - an...

I'm going to try and arrange letters in such a way that you'll get an idea of why I think Brief Encounter  (David Lean, 1945) is one of the greatest films I've ever seen (to give this claim some frame of reference I draw your attention to the fact that I have seen in excess of 17 films). This kinda feeds from my last post in a way, as too long ago now I visited Cranforth station in Lancashire, the main setting of Brief Encounter , it wasn't planned and when the opportunity came up I was genuinely excited. When we got there, I squealed and ran around taking poorly composed photographs, and looking at memorabilia, and strongly fighting the urge to sit and watch the film that was about to begin on a small TV in the station, and drinking tea through a big soppy grin, and pretty much everyone else didn't care. It was there though that I realised just how much I really cared about this film and when I came back I gushed at folk and foisted poorly co...