Christine

I haven't seen this movie since I was eleven, but upon rewatching it I realized this movie changed my brain chemistry. Christine is why I love classic cars, she's why I love Buddy Holly, she's why I love stupid horror movies. A couple months ago I saw my dream car on the side of the road and I screamed at my sister to stop the truck. I ran up to that spider infested 1967 Chevy Corvair Monza and I had deja vu. It felt nastolgic, like greeting an old friend. Of course she was in way worse shape than Christine, practically just the body with a tattered interior, but I thought about it. I've been saving up my money for college but I've always wanted to buy a classic car, and when I get my license at the beginning of summer, I might just take my chance on a possessed car. I can't stand when people say this is one of John Carpenter's lowest. The cinemetography is immaculate, and the aesthetic pleasure is only rivaled by The Thing. Christine actually feels alive, I can feel her malice a jealousy seeping through the screen, but that just might be me relating more to machines than people again. Her stalking scenes are a highlight of the film, her figure is imposing, and she knows how scare people. She fought till the end and I love that her fate is ambiguous. Maybe one day I'll see a beat up Plymouth Fury through the trees and won't be able to resist myself.