“Celluloid Antihero: How I Found My Father in the Movies.”
I connected with my grandpa through our love for Fellini movies, with my grandma through our adoration of Lubov Orlova’s comedies, with my mom when she took me to see the Antonioni’s Red Dessert at the first Italian Film festival in St Petersburg, when I was 16 and with my dad through our life lasting addiction of Tove Jahnson’s Moomintrols serious of animated books.
In this week’s TIES column I illustrated, Jere Hester writes about his father: “We could never agree on much. But in the winter of 1974, a 42-year-old man and his 7-year-old son left The Fortway equally convinced that the bean-fueled campfire scene from “Blazing Saddles” ranked as the funniest sequence in movie history.”
