No Sleep For The Cinephile

Sleep has always been at best a minor problem, and at worst a severe one. It comes slowly for me, whether it be because of unfamiliar surroundings or overstimulation at the hands of a soda or the day's events. Mostly I regard it as a very unfortunate thing. There have been restless nights and painful days of keeping myself awake by any means necessary (as an insomnia-stricken Malcolm X might say). Sometimes it's a good thing.

I happen to love watching movies. I watch enough of them and have a busy enough schedule that some of them are squeezed in under less-than-optimal conditions. I'll slip one in just before having to go somewhere, skating by with minutes to spare, and I'll watch one at the tail end of a day with another day in the offing. This is where it pays to have sleep so much a stranger. I can't think of too many instances where I fell asleep during a movie.

There were the old 16mm historical films during high school, which always managed to put me to sleep. There have been one or two times in theaters when I drifted off, and one or two times more at home when I had to watch part of a move at least twice. That feels like not very many times altogether, so I will characterize my ability in this matter as superlative, but I am prepared to hear an alternative viewpoint on the matter.

Until I do, hear one and hear all that I boldly declare my unsurpassed ability to watch a movie and if not pay undivided, unwavering attention to it at all times, then at least to remain seated with my gaze upon it and my mind far from the realm of rapid eye movement sleep. That may not be something that can go on a resume even if I were applying for the position of film critic (as absurd as it may sound that someone would come upon a listing for a paid film critic these days), but it's something.