The 2,000+ Films Watched by Presidents Nixon, Carter & Reagan in the White House

family-theater-reagan

Many of us keep a record of the movies we watch. Few of us, how­ev­er, lead the free world. As the reli­able sales num­bers of pres­i­den­tial biogra­phies (no mat­ter how thick) attest, the actions of the Pres­i­dent of the Unit­ed States of Amer­i­ca, no mat­ter who that Pres­i­dent may be and no mat­ter what sort of actions that Pres­i­dent takes, always draw inter­est. For instance, you may have seen that Pale­o­fu­ture’s Matt Novak recent­ly went through Jim­my Carter’s diaries to draw up a list of every sin­gle movie Carter watched dur­ing his Pres­i­den­cy.

“Part of my fas­ci­na­tion with the movies that pres­i­dents watch is just cheap voyeurism,” Novak writes. “But the oth­er part is an earnest belief that pop­u­lar cul­ture influ­ences things in the real world. Pres­i­dent Nixon was obsessed with the film Pat­ton dur­ing the Viet­nam War. Pres­i­dent Rea­gan urged Con­gress to take com­put­er secu­ri­ty seri­ous­ly after see­ing War Games in 1983.” And you can learn what else they watched by pulling up What Nixon Saw and When He Saw It by Nixon at the Movies author Mark Feeney, and the list of films Mr. and Mrs. Rea­gan viewed from the Ronald Rea­gan Pres­i­den­tial Library.

Nixon watched sev­er­al depic­tions of hard-bit­ten heroes (and anti­heroes) tough­ing out their trou­bles: not just Pat­ton, but Bul­littTrue GritIce Sta­tion ZebraOur Man in Havana, The Trea­sure of the Sier­ra MadreSpar­ta­cus, and Lawrence of Ara­bia — with the occa­sion­al Paint Your Wag­on or Aun­tie Mame thrown in there as well. Carter hewed a bit clos­er to the over­all Amer­i­can cin­e­mat­ic zeit­geist, watch­ing such era-defin­ing films as RockyNet­workStar WarsAir­port ’77Annie HallAni­mal HouseThe Last Pic­ture ShowApoc­a­lypse Now, Alien, and 10. 

Rea­gan, famous­ly a film actor him­self, watched all sorts movies, though his list shows a cer­tain pref­er­ence for mil­i­tary-themed spec­ta­cles like Gal­lipoliInchonDas BootFire­foxRed DawnIron Eagle, and Top Gun, as well as sports pic­tures like Break­ing AwayThe Win­ning Team, and even Knute Rockne, All Amer­i­can, in which he him­self por­trayed foot­ball play­er George Gipp, a role that anoint­ed him with the nick­name that would stick until the end.

The Free­dom of Infor­ma­tion act assures us that we’ll have the chance to study the in-office view­ing habits of many pres­i­dents to come. Novak, in fact, has already put in a request for the lists from George H.W. Bush, Bill Clin­ton, and George W. Bush: “They said I can expect the list in 46 months.” Well, the wheels of gov­ern­ment do grind slow­ly, after all — we’ve learned that from the movies.

Below you can find a list of the first 10 films each pres­i­dent watched upon tak­ing office. The dif­fer­ence in their cul­tur­al sen­si­bil­i­ties imme­di­ate­ly leaps out.

Nixon (list of 528 films here):

  • The Shoes of the Fish­er­man 
  • The Sound of Music 
  • The Sand Peb­bles
  • Play Dirty 
  • Doc­tor Zhiva­go 
  • Where Eagles Dare 
  • Camelot 
  • A Man for All Sea­sons
  • May­er­ling 
  • Twist­ed Nerve

Carter (list 403 films here):

  • All the President’s Men
  • One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest 
  • Net­work
  • Rocky 
  • The God­fa­ther 
  • The Mag­ic Chris­t­ian 
  • Buf­fa­lo Bill and the Indi­ans 
  • The Bad News Bears
  • The Shoo­tist 
  • Butch Cas­sidy and the Sun­dance Kid 

Rea­gan (list of 363 films here)

  • Trib­ute
  • Nine to Five
  • Black Stal­lion
  • Break­ing Away
  • Oh God, Book II
  • Tess
  • Being There
  • The Com­pe­ti­tion
  • Blood­line
  • The Mir­ror Crack­’d

via Pale­o­Fu­ture

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Por­traits of Vice Pres­i­dents with Octo­pus­es on Their Heads — the Ones You’ve Always Want­ed To See

Watch a Wit­ty, Grit­ty, Hard­boiled Retelling of the Famous Aaron Burr-Alexan­der Hamil­ton Duel

Pres. Oba­ma Releas­es a Free Playlist of 40 Songs for a Sum­mer Day (Plus 6 Books on His Sum­mer Read­ing List)

Lyn­don John­son Orders New Pants on the Phone and Requests More Room for His … John­son (1964)

Col­in Mar­shall writes else­where on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­maand the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future? Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Columbia U. Launches a Free Multimedia Glossary for Studying Cinema & Filmmaking

Columbia Film Language Glossary

You can find no short­age of clas­sic films to watch on Open Cul­ture. (See our col­lec­tion: 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.) But what we haven’t giv­en you is a toolk­it for engag­ing in a more for­mal study of these films. Enter The Colum­bia Film Lan­guage Glos­sary, devel­oped at the Cen­ter for New Media Teach­ing and Learn­ing at Colum­bia Uni­ver­si­ty.

The free/open resource uses a com­bi­na­tion of text, film clips, and audio com­men­tary to explain terms essen­tial to the study of film — words like Cin­e­ma Ver­itéMon­tage, and Mise-en-Scène. And it also defines a lot of nuts-and-bolts con­cepts like Aspect RatioHigh-Angle Shot and Long Take.

The Colum­bia Film Lan­guage Glos­sary “is avail­able to any stu­dent of film. Def­i­n­i­tions and audio com­men­tary are writ­ten and nar­rat­ed by fac­ul­ty at Colum­bia Uni­ver­si­ty.” You can dive in right now, right here.

h/t Peter Kauf­man

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book and BlueSky.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Visu­al Intro­duc­tion to Sovi­et Mon­tage The­o­ry: A Rev­o­lu­tion in Film­mak­ing

Hitch­cock on the Filmmaker’s Essen­tial Tool: The Kuleshov Effect

Alfred Hitchcock’s Sev­en-Minute Edit­ing Mas­ter Class

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A Film Festival of Kick Ass Kung Fu/Martial Arts Films in the Public Domain

Every­one remem­bers their first kung-fu movie — or every­one remem­bers their first wave of kung-fu movies, any­way. For some, they came late at night on the less-explored fre­quen­cies of the tele­vi­sion broad­cast­ing spec­trum; for oth­ers, they came on sparse­ly attend­ed dou­ble- and triple-bills at the local dis­count the­ater. They looked fad­ed and mud­dy, but some­how still vivid; they felt cheap­ly pro­duced, yet full of life and ener­gy; and as for how they sound­ed, time has turned their both hol­low and the­atri­cal Eng­lish-lan­guage dub­bing into an art form with con­nois­seurs of its own. They came from far­away lands, which ren­dered them exot­ic, but we expe­ri­enced them almost as dreams, prod­ucts of anoth­er real­i­ty alto­geth­er. And some of them you can expe­ri­ence again as pub­lic domain films.

We still call them “kung fu movies” even though, hav­ing grown old­er and wis­er — or at least more cul­tur­al­ly aware — we now know their heroes did­n’t always defeat their ene­mies with the Chi­nese mar­tial arts cov­ered by that umbrel­la term. But the label applies well enough to 1977’s Leg­end of Shaolin, the Hong Kong-made epic at the top of the post set in the 13th-cen­tu­ry Yuan Dynasty and deal­ing with that most kung-fu of all themes, revenge. But such his­tor­i­cal “kung fu” pic­tures could also come from coun­tries like Japan, an exam­ple of which you can thrill to just above: 1983’s Leg­end of the Eight Samu­rai fea­tures Son­ny Chi­ba, liv­ing embod­i­ment of the 1970s mar­tial-arts film, under the direc­tion of the pro­lif­ic and respect­ed provo­ca­teur Kin­ji Fukasaku, best known today as the mak­er of the con­tro­ver­sial Bat­tle Royale.

Next in this pub­lic-domain mar­tial-arts marathon, we have anoth­er Hong Kong movie, Guy with the Secret Kung Fu from 1981, whose title alone strikes me as rec­om­men­da­tion enough. And for our final selec­tion, we move to a more con­tem­po­rary set­ting with 1987’s Four Rob­bers, where­in the tit­u­lar quartet—pursued by both the police and a malev­o­lent crime syn­di­cate that at first wants to recruit them and lat­er wants revenge against them—have to flee from Hong Kong to Thai­land with­out gam­bling away the fruits of their labor or com­pro­mis­ing their prin­ci­ples. This movie, and many oth­ers of its kind, give the lie to the notion that there’s no hon­or among thieves. Most all of the wan­der­ers, samu­rai, rebels, aris­to­crats, cops, and rob­bers you see in them have one kind of hon­or or anoth­er — but when they come into con­flict, it tends to take some old-fash­ioned kung-fu fight­ing to set­tle things. You can find these films added to our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More, which includes more 23 Free Kung Fu and Mar­tial Arts Movies Online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

700 Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, etc.

Rad­i­cal French Phi­los­o­phy Meets Kung-Fu Cin­e­ma in Can Dialec­tics Break Bricks? (1973)

The Five Best North Kore­an Movies: Watch Them Free Online

The 5 Best Noir Films in the Pub­lic Domain: From Fritz Lang’s Scar­let Street to Ida Lupino’s The Hitch-Hik­er

Col­in Mar­shall writes else­where on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­maand the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future? Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Radical French Philosophy Meets Kung-Fu Cinema in Can Dialectics Break Bricks? (1973)

Can Dialectics Break Bricks?

And here I’d always con­sid­ered La Chi­noise the only French-lan­guage film that used both bor­rowed Chi­nese imagery and lofty the­o­ry to mount a cri­tique of cap­i­tal­ism. It turns out that six years after Jean-Luc Godard made that movie, Sinol­o­gist, Sit­u­a­tion­ist, and film­mak­er René Viénet came out with the next impor­tant vol­ume in that fas­ci­nat­ing minor tra­di­tion, La Dialec­tique Peut-Elle Cass­er Des Briques? (Can Dialec­tics Break Bricks?), an entire Hong Kong mar­tial-arts pic­ture entire­ly repur­posed into, as Dan­ger­ous Minds’ Richard Met­zger puts it, “a cri­tique of class con­flicts, bureau­crat­ic social­ism, the fail­ures of the French Com­mu­nist Par­ty, Mao­ism, cul­tur­al hege­mo­ny, sex­u­al equal­i­ty and the way movies prop up Cap­i­tal­ist ide­ol­o­gy.”

Using as its visu­al mate­r­i­al 1972’s Crush, Tu Guangqi’s hand-to-hand-com­bat-inten­sive tale of Kore­an rebel­lion against Japan­ese impe­ri­al­ism, the film fol­lowed the mod­el of Woody Allen’s What’s Up, Tiger Lily? “which re-dubbed humor­ous dia­logue over a Japan­ese spy movie to make the plot about a recipe for egg sal­ad […] but here the cin­e­mat­ic Sit­u­a­tion­ist provo­ca­teur is less out for laughs (although there are plen­ty of them) and more about the polit­i­cal sub­ver­sion.” This inter­sec­tion of lo-fi chop-socky action with high-flown rev­o­lu­tion­ary jar­gon and aca­d­e­m­ic name-drop­ping (“My Fou­caults! My Lacans! And if that’s not enough, I’ll even send my struc­tural­ists”) has for decades struck its view­ers as sub­lime­ly ridicu­lous. But do the images and the dia­logues real­ly clash as total­ly as they would seem to?

“Like many Hong Kong pro­duc­tions of the ear­ly sev­en­ties,” writes Luke White at Kung Fu with Braudel, “the sce­nario of the orig­i­nal film is clear­ly one in which colo­nial exploita­tion and resis­tance are at issue. Set in Korea under the Japan­ese occu­pa­tion that last­ed much of the first half of the twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry, the heroes (those turned by Viénet into ‘the Pro­le­tar­i­ans’) are the mem­bers of a mar­tial arts school who start to resist the colo­nial vio­lence of the mil­i­taris­tic Japan­ese forces. How­ev­er poten­tial­ly con­ser­v­a­tive the nation­al­is­tic dimen­sion of its nar­ra­tive, this is also a work about strug­gle and lib­er­a­tion from tyran­ny in some of its most typ­i­cal­ly mod­ern forms.” In its mul­ti­plic­i­ty of pos­si­ble inter­pre­ta­tions, La Dialec­tique Peut-Elle Cass­er Des Briques? joins the ranks of all the most inter­est­ing works of art — and it cer­tain­ly makes for a refresh­ing break from actu­al­ly read­ing your Fou­caults, your Lacans, and your struc­tural­ists.

via UBU

Relat­ed Con­tent:

John Sear­le on Fou­cault and the Obscu­ran­tism in French Phi­los­o­phy

The Five Best North Kore­an Movies: Watch Them Free Online

Bruce Lee Audi­tions for The Green Hor­net (1964)

Col­in Mar­shall writes else­where on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­maand the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future? Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Everything is a Remix: A Video Series Exploring the Sources of Creativity

Our vet­er­an read­ers will per­haps remem­ber Kir­by Fer­gu­son’s four-part video series Every­thing is a Remix. Cre­at­ed between 2010 and 2014, the series explored the idea that (to quote from one of my ear­li­er posts) “great art doesn’t come out of nowhere. Artists inevitably bor­row from one anoth­er, draw­ing on past ideas and con­ven­tions, and then turn these mate­ri­als into some­thing beau­ti­ful and new.” That applies to musi­cians, film­mak­ers, tech­nol­o­gists, and real­ly any­one in a cre­ative space.

This week, to mark the 5th anniver­sary of the series’ launch, Fer­gu­son has remas­tered and re-released Every­thing is a Remix as a sin­gle video in HD. “For the first time now, the whole series is avail­able as a sin­gle video with prop­er tran­si­tions all the way through, uni­fied styling, and remixed and remas­tered audio.” Find it fea­tured above, and added to our col­lec­tion of Free Online Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book and BlueSky.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Why Man Cre­ates: Saul Bass’ Oscar-Win­ning Ani­mat­ed Look at Cre­ativ­i­ty (1968)

Why You Do Your Best Think­ing In The Show­er: Cre­ativ­i­ty & the “Incu­ba­tion Peri­od”

Albert Ein­stein Tells His Son The Key to Learn­ing & Hap­pi­ness is Los­ing Your­self in Cre­ativ­i­ty (or “Find­ing Flow”)

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A Guided Tour of Guillermo del Toro’s Creativity-Inducing Man Cave, “Bleak House”

Many guys have man caves – a room, a base­ment, a shed where a dude can get away from the demands of domes­tic­i­ty and do dude things. Guiller­mo del Toro, the Oscar-nom­i­nat­ed direc­tor of such movies as Pan’s Labyrinth, Pacif­ic Rim and the upcom­ing Crim­son Peak, doesn’t just have a cave. He has an entire house. It’s called Bleak House and it’s pret­ty amaz­ing. In a fea­turette for Criterion’s release of Cronos (1993), Del Toro gives a guid­ed tour. You can watch it above.

As you can see, the place feels less like a frat house than an eccen­tric muse­um. One of his inspi­ra­tions was curios­i­ty cab­i­nets of old. Indeed, the walls are crammed with paint­ings, prints and curios and just about every cor­ner is teem­ing with skele­tons, skulls, ten­ta­cles and creepy things float­ing in bot­tles of formalde­hyde.

Anoth­er inspi­ra­tion was the orig­i­nal research library for Dis­ney Stu­dios, which fed the imag­i­na­tion of the studio’s artists with lots of art. So Del Toro has orig­i­nal frames from Ger­tie the Dinosaur by Win­sor McCay, the first ani­mat­ed movie ever, along with draw­ings by Moe­bius and pho­tographs of Alfred Hitch­cock. He also has piles of books, mag­a­zines and DVDs. “What­ev­er it is,” says Del Toro, “it’s here to pro­vide a shock to the sys­tem and get cir­cu­lat­ing the lifeblood of cre­ativ­i­ty, which I think is curios­i­ty. When we lose curios­i­ty, we lose entire­ly inven­tive­ness, and we start becom­ing old. So the man cave of Bleak house was designed to be sort of a com­pres­sion cham­ber where we can cre­ate a stim­u­lat­ing envi­ron­ment…” for artists.

Right above you even more about Bleak House in which Del Toro gives a tour to hor­ror direc­tor Tim Sul­li­van. Not only is the place filled with strange and macabre curiosi­ties but also memen­toes from Del Toro’s movies. Want to see Del Toro bran­dish the orig­i­nal Big Baby from Hell­boy II: The Gold­en Army? Check this video out.

Via @LaFa­mil­i­aFilm

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sketch­es by Guiller­mo del Toro Take You Inside the Director’s Wild­ly Cre­ative Imag­i­na­tion

Geome­tria: Watch Guiller­mo del Toro’s Very Ear­ly, Ghoul­ish Short Film (1987)

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing lots of pic­tures of bad­gers and even more pic­tures of vice pres­i­dents with octo­pus­es on their heads.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

Vancouver Never Plays Itself

Tony Zhou and his video series Every Frame a Paint­ing returns with a new episode: Van­cou­ver Nev­er Plays Itself.

A bustling sea­port city on the west coast of Cana­da, Van­cou­ver is a big movie pro­duc­tion town. In fact, it’s the third biggest film pro­duc­tion city in North Amer­i­ca, right behind LA and New York. And yet you would­n’t know it. Because Van­cou­ver nev­er plays itself. It always mas­quer­ades in movies as oth­er cities — New York, Seat­tle, San­ta Bar­bara and beyond.

Zhou shows you just how this decep­tion gets pulled off, again and again.

Find more episodes from his series below…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Aki­ra Kuro­sawa Used Move­ment to Tell His Sto­ries: A Video Essay

Every Frame a Paint­ing Explains the Film­mak­ing Tech­niques of Mar­tin Scors­ese, Jack­ie Chan, and Even Michael Bay

The Art of Mak­ing Intel­li­gent Com­e­dy Movies: 8 Take-Aways from the Films of Edgar Wright

The Evo­lu­tion of Chuck Jones, the Artist Behind Bugs Bun­ny, Daffy Duck & Oth­er Looney Tunes Leg­ends: A Video Essay

Hear Blade Runner, Terminator, Videodrome & Other 70s, 80s & 90s Movies as Novelized AudioBooks

It is the year 2019. The world is over­crowd­ed. Decay­ing. Mech­a­nized. Android slaves, pro­grammed to live for only four years, are tech­no­log­i­cal mar­vels — strong, intel­li­gent, phys­i­cal­ly indis­tin­guish­able from humans. Into this world comes a band of rebel androids. Desparate to find the mas­ter­mind who built them, bent on extend­ing their life span, they will use all their super­hu­man strength and cun­ning to stop any­thing — or any­one — who gets in their way. Ordi­nary peo­ple are no match to them. Nei­ther are the police. This is a job for one man only. Rick Deckard. Blade Run­ner.

Thus opens the nov­el Blade Run­ner: A Sto­ry of the Future. But even if you so enjoyed Rid­ley Scot­t’s Blade Run­ner that you went back and read the orig­i­nal nov­el that pro­vid­ed the film its source mate­r­i­al, these words may sound unfa­mil­iar to you, not least because you almost cer­tain­ly would have gone back and read Philip K. Dick­’s Do Androids Dream of Elec­tric Sheep?, the real object of Blade Run­ner’s adap­ta­tion. When the movie came out in 1982, out came an edi­tion of Do Androids Dream of Elec­tric Sheep? re-brand­ed as Blade Run­ner: Do Androids Dream of Elec­tric Sheep? — and out as well, con­fus­ing­ly, came Blade Run­ner: A Sto­ry of the Future, the nov­el­iza­tion of the adap­ta­tion.

Who would read such a thing? Movie nov­el­iza­tions have long since passed their 1970s and 80s pre-home-video prime, but in our retro-lov­ing 21st cen­tu­ry they’ve inspired a few true fans to impres­sive demon­stra­tions of their enjoy­ment of this spe­cial­ized form of lit­er­a­ture. “They’re spe­cial to me because when I was younger there were a lot of films I desired to see but didn’t get to, and the nov­el­iza­tions were sold at the Scholas­tic Book Fairs,” says enthu­si­ast Josh Olsen in an inter­view with West­word, who describes his books of choice as “adapt­ed from films, or ear­ly drafts of films at least, locked with short dead­lines and print­ed cheap­ly and per­func­to­ri­ly and end up being part of the movie’s mas­sive mar­ket­ing uni­verse. Basi­cal­ly, it’s the lit­er­ary equiv­a­lent of the McDonald’s cup from back in the day.”

And so we have Audio­books for the Damned, Olsen’s labor of love that has tak­en over thir­ty of these nov­el­iza­tions (all out of print) and adapt­ed them yet one stage fur­ther. You can hear all of them on the pro­jec­t’s Youtube page, from Blade Run­ner: A Sto­ry of the Future (an easy start­ing place, since the nov­el­iza­tion’s scant eighty pages make for a lis­ten­ing expe­ri­ence con­sid­er­ably short­er than the movie itself) to The Ter­mi­na­tor to Video­drome. And if you’d like to spend your next cross-coun­try dri­ve with such cher­ished kitsch clas­sics as Pol­ter­geist, The BroodOver the Edge, or The Lost Boys in unabridged (and unsub­tle) prose form, you can get them on their fea­tured audio­book page. This all deliv­ers to us the obvi­ous next ques­tion: which bold, nos­tal­gic Mil­len­ni­al film­mak­er will step for­ward to turn all these extreme­ly minor mas­ter­works back into movies again?

via Metafil­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

700 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

John Lan­dis Decon­structs Trail­ers of Great 20th Cen­tu­ry Films: Cit­i­zen Kane, Sun­set Boule­vard, 2001 & More

Moviedrome: Film­mak­er Alex Cox Pro­vides Video Intro­duc­tions to 100+ Clas­sic Cult Films

Col­in Mar­shall writes else­where on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­maand the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future? Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

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Open Culture was founded by Dan Colman.