Movie Club

During the last years of my father’s life, I would travel to Madrid to visit him. Each night after dinner, we had a ritual: we’d watch a movie together. He had this little notepad, where he would carefully jot down the date, the name of the film, the director, and the main actors. There was something deeply ceremonial about it—his love for cinema, his sharp intellect, and his reverence for the art form turned every evening into something so special with such connection.

By the end of his life, those notebooks held over 350 titles. He was, without a doubt, the most brilliant and intellectual man I’ve ever known, with a photographic memory and a unique appreciation for art in all its forms. By his own account a frustrated painter himself. 

The night we watched Pollock is etched in my heart. My brother Tony—a well-known artist himself—joined us, and the three…

These forum posts aren’t meant to be reviews or critiques—I’m not here to analyze every frame or debate the acting choices.

What I care about most is how a film makes me feel, what it stirs inside, and what I walk away with. Maestro (2023), directed by and starring Bradley Cooper, did just that—it stayed with me in quiet, surprising ways.

There’s been a lot of mixed talk around this film, from its storyline to performances. But I was drawn to it immediately because I’m always fascinated by biopics of artists. They’re usually rich with complexity, and Maestro is no exception.

What spoke to me most was the contrast in Leonard Bernstein’s life between the solitude of the composer and the public persona of the conductor. That beautiful tension between turning inward to create and turning outward to perform—it’s something so many artists wrestle with. The film touches on this duality gently but…

I watched Marriage Story shortly after my own divorce, and it truly broke my heart. It touched something so personal in me—watching how a family, once so connected and loving, can unravel in the most painful, human way. The film shows how divorce can begin with good intentions, how both partners can still care for one another, and yet how quickly things can deteriorate under pressure, especially when outside forces begin to shape the narrative.

The depiction of the lawyers was devastating. Not villainous, just… systemic. The way the process began to shape the outcome, and how, once set in motion, it pushed them further apart—past a point of no return. It’s like watching something beautiful slip through your fingers. And it’s made even more painful by the fact that you can still see the love underneath. You know they both care. But the structure they're caught in has such momentum that…

As always, I have such a soft spot for historical fiction. For me, there’s something magical about being transported into another time—witnessing how people lived, loved, and endured through hardship. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society pulled me right into post-WWII England with its richly crafted world, moving characters, and quietly profound message.

But what made this film especially close to my heart—and so deeply aligned with the mission of Seekers Circle—is its celebration of book clubs. The story centers around a group of individuals who come together to share books in the middle of war and fear. What begins as a cover story to avoid trouble becomes something real, intimate, and deeply transformative.

As a lifelong lover of book clubs, I was so touched by how the film portrayed the magic that happens when people gather to read, reflect, and share their inner worlds.

Book clubs are at…