Senses

A decade or so back, during its infancy, I used to write a bit for the journal Senses of Cinema. The editors at the time - prolific filmmaker and founding editor Bill Mousoulis and cineaste Fiona Villella - were generous and inviting in giving reign to writers to explore whatever it was they felt most passionate about. So I wrote short essays on Jay Rosenblatt and Peter Tscherkassky, on Rosetta, Dancer in the Dark and the festival screenings of Tsai Ming Liang, Elie Suleiman, Werner Herzog or Claire Denis, and I got lost in long and wildly indulgent pieces on Bill Douglas or Jean-Pierre Leaud or Jem Cohen. 

I still remember telling my step-dad one day that I was writing an essay for the journal and he listened and nodded. I rambled on for a while. He listened and nodded. And then he asked, "why on earth would they call a magazine Sensitive Cinema?". In my head I still think of this world beating film journal - started here in our own backyard from the cluster of film fanatics, filmmakers and academics, that is now regarded as one of, if not the, world's best online cinema journal - as Sensitive Cinema.

Well, Senses of/Sensitive Cinema needs help to keep publishing. So, here is a link to throw a few bucks it's way. Do it. Don't think about it. You could probably be a miser and think you're saving yourself twenty five bucks and then blow it on an overpriced burger (with wagyu beef and kefalograviera), a ticket to some soul crushing 3D extravaganza starring Sam thingo, or you could just hand it on over and help keep one tiny pocket of cinema stay vibrant, diverse and flourishing. Hell knows, cinema needs it.