I'm back. Does anybody care? (Do I?)

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A depressing moment in film class last week. Prior to the class, I was talking to one of the guys who sits at the same table, Glen, about what film we might be viewing that night. (One of my frustrations with this class is no viewing schedule is available, although this may be so that the teacher can be more open to whatever his personal whim says should be the film of the moment.) Glen noted that we would be watching something from Hollywood in the '40s, with special reference made in the course outline to Orson Welles and Michael Curtiz. This meant either Citizen Kane or Casablanca, both of which I have seen, although, as I said to Glen, what person seriously considering a career in film wouldn't have seen these classics? As it turns out, in addition to Glen and I, only two people had seen Citizen Kane, the movie of choice. I'm sorry, but how could anyone make a claim to loving movies without having gone to the trouble - and not much effort is required - to see what is almost universally considered the greatest film ever made. How does this happen? I saw this movie more than 25 years ago in Cape Breton, where I had two English-language channels, when video was in its infancy, when DVD and the web were non-existent. If I could find it, how could they, in this age and this city, not have seen Citizen Kane? Before you can create art, you must learn from the greats who came before you, see what they did and didn't do, to emulate, to rebel against, and to steal, where necessary. Painters copy the masters to learn technique, writers deconstruct sentences to learn how they are put together - should filmmakers not at least see films, and good ones? I suppose this is why I can live in a world where a group of otherwise apparently intelligent people can discuss in glowing terms the recent Pink Panther remake, where the genius of Roxanne and L.A. Story is replaced with the hack of Cheaper by the Dozen. If you want to know why so many movies suck, take a look at the viewing habits of our filmmakers. If my classmates are any guide, it's a miracle any films worth seeing get made.

By the way, last night we viewed a portion of Casablanca (as part of a lesson on propaganda films). Roughly a dozen of the class' members had seen this - a small hopeful sign.

The other odd thing about the Citizen Kane viewing was a discussion before class about how movies are shot. The question originated with a pretty bright guy named Jeff who works in television production, and I was surprised as the teacher explained master shots and the like to my clearly mesmerized classmates. Now, before ever taking a class, my fascination with film and long-suppressed desire to make movies led me to read widely and educate myself on these things. Clearly, many of my classmates did not. It is almost as if they woke up one morning and decided they wanted to make movies. I'm all for the DIY aesthetic, but they'll be making some pretty unwatchable stuff if they count on their classes to teach them everything they need to know.

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Today is a big day for me as a sports fan since my beloved Raptors have landed as their new President and General Manager one Bryan Colangelo, who was the NBA's Executive of the Year last season with Phoenix. His availability itself is surprising (courtesy of a new owner with a head bigger than all of Arizona) but even more surprising is the organization seizing the opportunity and landing him. Colangelo is NBA royalty, with a history of more good moves than bad and the nerve to bail on his bad moves and try to correct the mistake. He brings instant credibility to an organization decimated by a series of bad decisions under previous management, and makes the team players in the future for serious upgrading of the talent base. We haven't won anything yet, but only a fool would look at the Raptors today without anticipating a very bright future. For long-suffering fans such as I, this is heaven.

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To close out, short notes on my recent film viewings:

Dirty Pretty Things: If there were any justice, Chiwetel Ejiofor would become a superstar. But he's black, British and has a strange name, dooming him to be great along the margins. A stunning story about illegal immigrants in London who get caught up in the illicit trade in body parts. Powerful and satisfying in every way.

The Lady Eve: Classic screwball comedy, with Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck wonderful together, and great support from Charles Coburn and Eugene Pallette.

Eurotrip: Stupid, but funny. But way too much male nudity, and not nearly enough female.

Childstar: More Don McKellar cleverness. The message is a little heavy-handed, but McKellar is charming and Jennifer Jason Leigh genuinely terrifying. I have no idea what Gil Bellows is trying to do here.

Kiss Me Kate: Nicole wanted to watch this, so I endured it. Pretty lame, although there's some truly impressive dancing from Ann Miller and Tommy Rall. A pair of dancing and singing thugs are the highlight.

Topsy-Turvy: Entertaining, but seriously overrated, At times, the film just seems to stop for some business that pleases the filmmaker but no one else. Great music, though, and beautiful to look at.

My Brilliant Career: Outstanding period piece, with Judy Davis and a shockingly young Sam Neill.

What's New, Pussycat?: Occasionally funny, but mostly annoying and seriously dated.