Still, With The Racism?

. . . or how my rewatch of a well crafted racist fairy tale solidified my hatred for America's favorite film

I am a cinephile.

That means that I am such a film snob, I am forced to describe my cinematic elitism by using a portmanteau that combines both French and Latin. In turn, that means that I have made a rather genuine effort to tell you that I am an asshole about movies. This has been so since my teens.

Film is one of the rare arenas where my self doubt withers away and allows my confidence to soar; sometimes a bit too close to the sun. There are very few people that I know personally that have seen as much cinema as I have. I am by no means an expert. It has however, been a lifelong passion that I have pursued both to amuse and entertain, and to educate and enlighten myself.

It will you surprise you little to know that I was a weird kid as well as being an eccentric adult. To truly carry that reputation forth with gusto, I helmed our high school quiz bowl team, starred in a handful of high school theater productions, pursued history and museum trips of my own accord, and mostly watched …