I think I’d have an anxiety attack if I held out any longer on picking:
A movie just as responsible as any other for sparking my interest in all things film.
Thanks to my father, while growing up, I couldn’t go a weekend without having an Eastwood flick playing in front of me. This can have one of two effects on a person. You’ll either find yourself as an Eastwood fanatic when you mature, or you’ll rebel against all things Eastwood as what happened with my friend Scott.
I’m happy to find myself amongst the former of the two camps.