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MR BUSY
In deference to one of the doyens of that very British piece of journalistic self-indulgence, the recurring column, I thought I'd experiment with a new beginning. So, with apologies to Simon Hoggarfc On Tuesday, to the Hitchcock launch at BFI Southbank. This summer's huge Hitchcock retrospective is clearly A Good Thing which will. I'm sure, reveal to many moviegoers a gem or two they've previously missed in Hitch's substantial oeuvre. Even us jaded completists can look forward to the restored silent masterpieces. No problem with that.
But as the presentations, trailers and panel discussions wore on, I found myself reflecting more and more on the concept of Hitchcock's rise to the undisputed status of canonical director - institutionalised, adjectivalised and deemed as worthy of sixth-form study as Shakespeare or Dickens. Not just Hitchcock, either: once you start with canons, it goes on and on. Canonanonanonanon.
At the Hitchcock event, the upcoming Sight S- Sound poll of the 'Greatest Films of all Time' was also much discussed. Would Citizen Kane finally be dethroned? Would Vertigo (whose restored version was rereleased in r 996) still come in at no.2, as it did last time? Will the bedsitter generation have gained enough critical mass this year to get The Shawshank Redemption (1994) or Withnail S- /(1986) onto the list?
All of which explains why, that Tuesday, I was already in the mood for totting up totals, having just chewed many a virtual pencil (sadly, you can't chew...