You find salvation in the funniest places sometimes. You spend so much of your life thinking you’ll be chasing one thing that’ll make you feel fulfilled and free only for something else to sprout through the concrete you paved over your own garden long ago. If I had known my own salvation was going to be film criticism by way of specifically internet film criticism, it would have sounded as silly as someone raised male for 30+ years before realizing they’ve been a woman this whole time…
…actually, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me do the charming cliché where a narrator starts telling a story and then asks the audience to back up in time with them. You see, writers do this when they don’t know how to open a story and it’s a ̶l̶a̶z̶y̶ really cool device to get it rolling along.
I didn’t get into movies at a young age like many of the visiting IU Cinema filmmakers and writers on this very blog did. Sure, I was without a doubt raised by the media I consumed, frequently finding my way to local libraries and bookstores to check out mountains of books and comics, or I just set up shop at a Borders (R.I.P.) for a few hours and read whatever I could before my mom picked me up from one of her many, many jobs. I had a steady stream of Nintendo handhelds my whole childhood that would let me escape when it was too noisy to read. A television set was good for finding something on the nearly 100 channels basic cable could provide you in the late 20th century and yes, that included movies.
As a millennial. I have the distinct honor of seeing so many mid-budget and mid-level movies about two billion times simply because they were just on. No one needs to have seen Joe Dirt as many times as I have. I had favorite movies like any kid does but I was not so much into the craft and culture of it all. I wasn’t watching docs and tracking down books or reading reviews. I’d go to movies on Friday nights with my marching band friends because I was a pop culture fiend but seeing The Prestige or There Will Be Blood in theaters was equally as exciting as seeing Norbit. Movies were the same as playing Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow on a road trip: a fun distraction that passed the time and fun to talk about with friends.
But music was always a constant in my life. I was raised in the Baptist church and it was kind of given that the kids joined the choir as an activity to keep them outta trouble on weekday nights. My grandma had a constant stream of B.B. King and Mahalia Jackson going at all times, my older sister would cop every Neo-Soul and R&B CD and play them on a loop in the car (I have probably heard The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill and Who Is Jill Scott? in my mom’s 1995 Saturn more than any other records in my life), and my older brother would play nothing but second-term Clinton and Bush era New York hip-hop in his bedroom. If I was watching TV, it was likely tuned into MTV 1&2, BET, and VH1. The first time I heard my high school jazz band play at my elementary school, I knew I wanted to play a traditional jazz instrument and picked up saxophone on the first day of instrument auditions in sixth grade and after my incredibly warm and nurturing middle school band director (BIG LOVE to Jerry Farrington!) burned me a mountain of Blue Note-era John Coltrane albums and I picked up a copy of Bird’s Best Bop on Verve during my first ever solo visit to Borders with $20 to spend, I’ve been a lil’ music goblin ever since.
I didn’t really have a plan for college in high school, but I did know I wanted to continue to play music in some way and, if not for the kindness of IU Jazz Studies Professor Pat Harbinson after listening to me play and literally rushing me through the application and audition process after every deadline had passed, I would have probably not ended up in Bloomington at all! I got lucky. But nevertheless, I wanted to learn how to play music like all the towering figures I listened to. I’m not a very analytical musician. Everything I play is impulse/just trying to find the pocket and riding the wave from there. It’s a wonder I gravitate towards jazz at all, honestly. But I wanted to be able to ride the wave the same way as I’d hear people play on records. There’s a super famous solo performed by one of Duke Ellington’s regular saxophonists, Paul Gonsalves, during a 1956 performance of “Diminuendo + Crescendo In Blue” at the Newport Jazz Festival. He takes an astounding 27 choruses over a 12-bar blues as the crowd is whipped into a literal frenzy. Paul keeps blowing, escalating and carving up that wave. One chorus after another. It’s sublime to listen to. It’s been stated that the crowd would urge him on for one more chorus just when you think it’s reached its peak. A part of me always wanted to know what that felt like. To be so in the pocket and assured enough to find a new idea to latch onto and extrapolate from there. I hoped I would learn whatever I could and find that alchemy.
Needless to say, I didn’t have the best time in music school. Things just didn’t click for me and I spent more time doubting that I could do any of what was expected of me than actually internalizing anything musically. It wasn’t the right place for me and I mostly finished out of spite and belief in the “sunk cost fallacy.” I didn’t really play music for the next four years after graduating with the exception of a six-month stint in a cruise ship band touring around the Baltic Sea in mid-2014. I was depressed, beaten, and, little did I know, very dysphoric. I wouldn’t really start getting back into music until the nice boys (and my buds) of Busman’s Holiday urged me to be one of their horn players and gave me a nice welcoming environment to try stuff out, goof around, and just… play. I’ve been grateful for it ever since.
However, what I did find in music school/college were some kindred spirits and lifelong friends. I happened to be in a saxophone studio with two (and then three) other people with more than just interest in notes on staff. They liked a lot of different types of art. They were strange in the best way. It was love at first sight. Bryan Giusto, Peter Schomburg, and then later Connor Carrol (along with too many other people to name… eh, who cares: Ben Doan, Dalen Wuest, Drew Werhele, Ian Sundstrom) all shared this love of exploring media. Bryan and Peter were so smart about swaths of cinema I had never heard of at that point. Bryan was the first person I’d ever heard say the words “the Criterion Collection” and would be the person to show me my first Akira Kurosawa movie (Yojimbo) and my first Godard (Breathless) on the same weekend. Peter would inspire my love of the visual grandeur of cinema, treating the films of Stanley Kubrick, Michael Bay, and Ridley Scott with equal respect. I was stubborn at first — I remember being a big baby and making myself fall asleep during A Clockwork Orange because I wasn’t in the mood — but eventually I was hooked.
After watching Brazil and La Dolce Vita back to back in the same day via Netflix DISC rental, I was doomed. We’d spend our hours between class and practice room visits checking out videos from residence halls and Plan Nine (now Vulture Video) and then eventually finding the time to get to the freshly opened IU Cinema and catching Don’t Look Now with professor Greg Waller introducing (I still remember his whole introduction being about the editing during the sex scene between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland). I was addicted at this point. Spending what little money I had at Criterion sales constantly. Watching two or three movies a day, seven days a week. Checking out books from the library about films like Sidney Lumet’s Making Movies and Hitchcock/Truffaut. I even managed to sneak in Hollywood 1&2 courses during my undergrad.
Real cinema thot stuff.
So, during my hiatus from music post-grad while I was battling an ever-deepening depression, movies were this lifeline for me. They gave me little glimpses into different realities and that sparked hope and desire in me. I didn’t really know what those desires were, but it was better than feeling empty all the time. I wanted to learn more about how to read a film so I turned to film criticism. In 2013, we were right in the film nerd website heyday. Self-taught critics (some of them I feel regret reading their thoughts; thank God for The Dissolve and people like Priscilla Page, Angelica Jade Bastien, Matt Zoller Seitz, and yes, David Ehrlich for existing) diving into the themes of a film or leading me towards other movies, filmmakers, eras, genres I’d never dream of. They would also lead me to the old guard of critics: Ebert, Sarris, Bazin, Truffaut, Godard, and of course Pauline Kael, the woman that made me discover that I didn’t care if I agreed with someone’s read on a film or not. If you could explain it eloquently or have an interesting point of view, I’d read it. No matter how wrong she was 😉
I decided maybe it would be fun filling my time trying my hand at writing some things. I’d do a Facebook note here and there. Sometimes people would read them and say nice things, but I wanted a place where people who also liked movies as much as I did would read them. I wasn’t a good enough writer to even humor the idea of submitting to the blogs I was reading and I was too embarrassed at the idea of trying to start one myself and promote it… but I was shrewd enough to ask someone nice to do it for me.
I have a pension for being annoying and ingratiating myself into people’s orbits and just putting in the hours, despite having no skills to back much up. I had been talking to Jon Vickers about a film blog for the IU Cinema in passing every time I’d work up the nerve to chat with him. He liked the idea and “Directed By Women’s” Barbara Ann O’Leary had the same idea around the same time. He finally caved and we had a meeting in his office with Barbara where we thought about different people with different tastes and styles who would be great to write for the blog. I remember being so excited when we both were in agreement that Laura Ivins and Jesse Pasternack would be perfect, having been charmed by Jesse a few times at the Cinema and his passion and hearing about Laura as an animation and experimental film nerd. The team was assembled and now all I had to do was learn how to write.
I struggled through my first few posts on this blog. I really wanted to prove that I knew what I was talking about. I watched Escape From New York three times before I even started researching for my piece on it. I read multiple Tarantino biographies for my Reservoir Dogs post. I really just didn’t want to come off as sounding like a dumb hack. At this point in my life, it caused me a lot of anxiety to talk to people. I didn’t like my voice and I was always in my own head about how I sounded. I didn’t like the way the words came out. But this funny thing started happening. When you’re writing two posts a month, constantly reading books, listening to podcasts, and trying your hardest to not sound like anyone specific, you start to develop a voice in your head. It starts off abstract and then gets clearer and clearer until eventually you can just hear the words and it gets hard for you to keep up with everything you want to say. Not only did my writing get better, I actually learned how to speak in a way I didn’t hate. All those thoughts that swirled around in my head could find an exit and I wasn’t as shy about sharing them. It’s why I pestered Jon once again into resurrecting the podcast. I just wanted to talk to somebody about movies, and I’m happy my co-host and forever little sister Elizabeth Roell had the fortitude to listen to so much garbage pour out of my mouth. A homie for real.
Despite always generally being stressed out by a deadline, this blog became not only a respite for me but it gave me that one thing I felt like I didn’t get in my time when I thought I wanted to play music professionally: the ability to find that pocket and take one more chorus. When I write about movies, I get into a nice little flow state where it feels like I’m tossing out themes and variations, I’m riffing and I’m riding a wave to some sort of climax. I don’t think I’m always successful but I do know there are things I’ve written on this blog that I’m so proud of. My Annihilation and Speed Racer pieces stand out. It’s wild to me that my In the Mood for Love and Da 5 Bloods pieces have been used in college curriculums or that my Isao Takahata piece was quoted in a Polygon article about the director (deadname not withstanding). I hope from that bottom of my heart something I wrote helped someone understand their thoughts and feelings on this artform I cherish dearly.
It sounds dramatic but writing for this blog helped me realize that I needed to transition. I was learning the language for my dysphoria and that collided with being able to put things better into words. It all synthesized. But honestly, it’s also one of the many pieces of grace from loved ones that saved my life and gave me something to shoot for. Not so much a purpose, but a strong, ever-growing desire that needs to be fed. A desire to keep on changing, evolving, learning, growing, and moving. I never had any intention of being a writer and I don’t know if I’ll ever really publish anything proper or work outside the realm of criticism, but in my fleeting moments of confidence it’s nice to admit that I stumbled into being one.
Writing for this blog has influenced how I speak, how I program, and, in a funny way, how I play music. I don’t get so anxious when I blow anymore. I just remember I’ve played more notes than written words.
It was an honor being here from the beginning.
And I will miss it dearly.
I’ll see you at the movies.
Goodnight.
Created in a dark room after being exposed to images from infinite worlds, Aja Essex seeks to engender thought, conversation, and possibility through film. Co-founder of Establishing Shot as well as co-founder and co-operator of Bloomington’s own Cicada Cinema, she has always aimed to spotlight the underseen, underscreened, and underappreciated. She hosts, edits, and produces the IU Cinema podcast, Footage Not Found, with the same haphazard but enthusiastic zeal as her writing. She loves getting lost in a song and despite her namesake being her favorite Steely Dan album, she has probably listened to Countdown to Ecstasy more.