“A lovely and loving book.”—Will Schwalbe, New York Times bestselling author of The End of Your Life Book Club
"I'm not sure I have ever read a book about movies that is as tender and open-hearted as Films of Endearment ."—Mark Harris, New York Times bestselling author of Mike A Life
A poignant memoir of family, grief and resilience about a young man, his dynamic mother and the '80s movies they shared together
Michael Koresky's most formative memories were simple ones. A movie rental. A mug of tea. And a few shared hours with his mother. Years later and now a successful film critic, Koresky set out on a journey with his mother to discover more about their shared cinematic past. They rewatched ten films that she first introduced to him as a child, one from every year of the '80s, each featuring women leads.
Together, films as divergent as 9 to 5 , Terms of Endearment , The Color Purple and Aliens form the story of an era that Koresky argues should rightly be called "The Decade of the Actress."
Films of Endearment is a reappraisal of the most important and popular female-driven films of that time, a profound meditation on loss and resilience, and a celebration of the special bond between mothers and their sons.
"I don't believe in bromides that movies can 'change the world.' I DO believe that movies can instill desire, define love, enhance vision, and give us the sense that, if we look at them with generous eyes, we become part of the grand narrative, and that the watcher is as essential as the watched." -- on page 261
Author Koretsky's Films of Endearment is a wonderful collision of some of my favorite genres, those being family memoir, film discussion, and sociology. Although he is perhaps better known as a film critic and filmmaker, Koretsky has crafted an intriguing book here - he and his widowed mother re-watched ten films from the 1980's (selecting one from each year of the decade, and often featuring a mother or maternal figure in the central role) and they then discuss what it meant to them on initial viewing and how they resonate for them now. What films he chooses for them are an eclectic mix - memorable box office hits like Terms of Endearment (no surprise, given the book's title), Aliens, and The Color Purple alongside the lesser-remembered Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean; Country, and Crossing Delancey, and of course the 'mother' of all cult classics, Mommie Dearest. However, I don't want to give the impression that this simply is a mother and son version of a 'Siskel & Ebert' episode, or some sort of a family-styled rendition of Mystery Science Theater 3000 . . .
On a parallel track Koretsky also provides his mother's life story. A Baby Boomer from a working-class Jewish enclave of Boston, she married a good and hardworking man soon after college and spent the majority of her 20's and 30's raising her two Gen-X sons in the quiet suburbs of small-town New England, purposely forgoing full-time employment for many years. What she instilled - although not in any heavy-handed manner - in her curious younger son during his 80's childhood was an everlasting appreciation for film (they watched scores of movies on their VCR), along with books (she is a voracious reader, owning bookshelves overflowing with paperbacks and hardcovers) and all types of music (she is a trained vocalist, and it sounds like she likely could've made a career from it). With absolutely no glurge or sugary excess, this book is a thoroughly heartfelt 'thank you' note to a strong, opinionated, and fair-minded parent who lovingly helped guide / shape her child into the man he is today. Everyone in this world should be so lucky to be in such a situation.
I love the idea of this book – a hybrid work of memoir and film criticism – and there are some brilliant observations in it, but something didn’t quite work for me.
Film critic and programmer Michael Koresky decides to rewatch 10 films from the 1980s with his mother, Leslie. These aren't testosterone-fueled 80s actioners like Terminator 2 or Die Hard, although Michael certainly saw those on VHS while growing up in his middle-class Jewish home in a town outside Boston. Instead, they’re female-centred films about character, social structures and politics. And each one helped mother and son bond and understand each other over the years.
Koresky calls the 80s “the decade of the actress,” and he’s got a point. This was a period, after all, that featured indelible, iconic performances by the likes of Meryl Streep, Sigourney Weaver, Sissy Spacek, Glenn Close, Whoopi Goldberg, Kathleen Turner, Debra Winger, Jessica Lange, Sally Field, Cher, Geena Davis, Holly Hunter, Michelle Pfeiffer... and more.
“Most of [these actresses],” he writes in the book’s introduction, “were in their thirties and forties without being forced to succumb to matronly, desexualized roles, choosing parts that were full, rich, complex, and frequently politically engaged.” You just don’t see these types of roles these days (unless it’s on cable TV), nor this kind of mid-budget filmmaking.
The way he discusses the films – which include everything from ahead-of-its-time workplace comedy 9 to 5 (1980) to clear-eyed heartland drama Country (one of three farm-themed films in 1984) to the rare female-driven action film Aliens (1986) – is frequently brilliant.
And he puts the achievements of all the players in well-researched context. I was particularly fascinated by the way he discussed journalists talking about Michelle Pfeiffer’s physical appearance upon the release of The Fabulous Baker Boys (his 1989 selection) and the connection between star Amy Irving’s husband, Steven Spielberg, and producing the wonderful Jewish-themed romantic comedy Crossing Delancey (his 1988 selection).
Watching movies is a very personal experience; we learn so much from them, and discussing them with friends and family is a way to understand ourselves and the world around us.
Koresky makes sharp observations about the importance of the trans character in Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (the book’s 1982 selection) and his own coming out as a young queer man. I found his reflections on being childless – and the fact that his family line would end with him and his brother – quite moving in his chapter on the Diane Keaton comedy Baby Boom (1987). And the chapter on his mother’s efforts to break through the glass ceiling in her own work were quite fitting when talking about 9 to 5. Their series of rewatchings is interrupted near the end by COVID-19, which adds some poignancy.
But many of the connections between his and his mother’s lives and the films feel contrived. Sure, his mom Leslie – it would have been nice to tell us why he calls his parents by their first names – has always been an avid reader, but that feels like such a tenuous connection in the chapter on The Color Purple (his 1985 selection), which of course is based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning Alice Walker novel. And I could have done without Koresky’s banal descriptions of practicing piano and playing classics from the American Songbook, his segue into The Fabulous Baker Boys.
Shuttling between personal life and movie can often feel awkward, too, especially when Koresky talks about himself in the third person.
His writing, while mostly clear, intelligent and persuasive, is occasionally clunky: “The gender disparities and segregations endemic to these offices remain indelible to her.” Ouch.
Still, there’s lots to admire in these pages, and whenever Koresky discusses the films themselves and their wider social, aesthetic and political contexts, I was fully absorbed. It’s made me want to revisit many of them – even The Color Purple, which I’ve never found convincing – to see how they measure up and affect me years after first watching them.
Memoir about son watching certain films with his Mom in the 80’s. 3.5 rounded up to 4.0.
Interest for this book started with films, especially classics from the 30-40's. The films the author shared with his Mom during the 80's were a connection for my love of films and I'm sure with other readers' as well.
While I enjoyed the commentary about the films there seemed to be lots of information concerning the author's travel, transportation, etc. that seemed trivial. Also felt the book was a little unorganized and choppy but that may change with more editing.
The overall idea of the topic is good, just needs to pull it in tighter.
This is a sentimental 5 stars because in all likelihood, I will never again come across a memoir that so surprisingly parallels my own life, the relationship that I have with my mother and our combined love of films.
My dream goal is to write and publish the Asian version of this book, send it to Michael Koresky, and eventually meet and have a laugh, acknowledging that we are in so many ways the same person.
Full confession: I too used to drag my parents to every video store we came across when traveling to prowl the aisles for previously viewed VHS and later DVD titles - also it was part of the Friday routine that Mom would borrow a stack of videos from the local library or rent from the video store and Friday night was movie night - to this day we still talk about those films!
So sublimely happy that this book exists - I know what I’m getting my Mom for Christmas :)
This book happened to hit the right spot for me. I saw all of these movies during their initial release and have always taken great joy in seeing movies. I also have a mom of the same age as his mom, Leslie, and growing up we enjoyed talking about the movies we'd seen.
This is not really about the 1980s films but rather about a mother-son connection that transcends the discussions about characters and plots. Koresky and his mother started to rewatch 80s movies after his father died and these served as a launch pad for them to share things things they didn't discuss at the time. They chose 10 movies, all of which featured women and talked about what they meant to each of them. Oh how well I remember these! I do think, btw, that this will be more meaningful if you recall the plot and characters (how can I forget the unforgivable clothes in Working Girl or anything about 9 t0 5? Poor Jeff Daniels will always be Flap to me!). It's hard, sometimes, to review memoirs because it feels as though you are judging someone's life or life choices but that's not the case here. It's a thoughtful look at Koresky's understanding of himself, among other things. Thanks to Edelweiss for the ARC. A very good read.
In this charming and moving mix of memoir and movie appreciation, film critic Michael Koresky (Terence Davies) and his mother, Leslie, decide to meet monthly to rewatch and discuss films from the 1980s with strong women in leading roles. Ten films: one for each year of the decade. Each film brings up memories from their lives.
"Come Back to the 5 & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean" reminds Koresky of coming out and how the lack of gay characters in films from his youth made him feel invisible. "For me, movies were an escape, not a mirror," he writes. Both watch "Mommie Dearest" as if it were a comedy, but their conversation turns more serious when they discuss how the film hobbled Faye Dunaway's career (and how female stars are often counted out after one flop while male stars are not). And Leslie remembers childhood abuse from her mother. "Terms of Endearment" brings back memories of Koresky's father's early onset dementia and how the family dealt with their grief over his early death.
Not all the movies bring up traumatic memories. The Jane Fonda-produced comedy "9 to 5" brings back anecdotes of Leslie rejoining the workforce. It's also fascinating to discover that despite the film's feminist leanings, screenwriter Patricia Resnick was all but pushed out of the production process once the film's male director was hired. Other films include "The Color Purple", "Aliens", "Baby Boom", "Country", "Crossing Delancey" and "The Fabulous Baker Boys."
FILMS OF ENDEARMENT is an empowering, surprising and unforgettable tribute to strong women in films--and in the audience. Memoir and movie appreciation merge in this unforgettable and moving tale of a mother and son reliving their past by rewatching favorite films from the 1980s.
Films of Endearment is Koresky's moving love letter to his mother told through the lens of film. Film was the conduit that Koresky and his mother, Leslie, connected and communicated deeper thoughts. He highlights a decade of films with strong female protagonists and how much the strong women of movies like 9 to 5, Terms of Endearment, Aliens, Country, Steel Magnolias, and Crossing Delancey impacted him and help shape his own sexual identity. Koresky chose one film for each year of the decade from 1980-1989 and makes a compelling case for a decade of pivotal women's performances while learning much about his own mother's strength.
4.5 Sentimental, pensive, and beautiful. Oftentimes I find that when authors attempt a nonfiction examination and a memoir in one, it's unbalanced or forced. This was a fantastic example of the craft done well. Our author explores his life and relationship with his mother as they re-watch 10 important (to them) films. Their family was movie-obsessed and he has such wonderful nostalgia and insight to be enjoyed. He has a nice relationship with his mom, one that I think many people will see themselves in. He also navigates the illness and death of his father, his homosexuality, the fact that he and his brother have decided to not have children, and so many other huge aspects to life. But it's done in the context of some great movies in a fun structure. Even the movies I hadn't seen I enjoyed hearing him discuss. This would be a great gift for a parent or an 80s lover (since they decide to take their 10 movies from that era) or a movies loves. I think I'll gift this to my dad! Just a beautiful love letter to his parents, the movies, and his life. Extra excitement as I stumbled upon this at the library, appropriately nostalgic.
This book struck me in my solar plexus (I think that's a thing). I always say my family didn't go to church but we did go to the movies. This honest memoir is a gorgeous rumination on growing up and how cinema is the balm we need, a true mirror for life. Michael Koresky is a fantastic writer and he selected films that meant so much to me growing up too - and now I understand better why I'm so obsessed with "Mommie Dearest" (beyond the obvious). I will also forever quote him - when people complain about folks who talk about movies too much, they fail to realize we're not just speaking film. We're discussing life. Bravo!
I loved this book. I obviously love books, but movies have been just as much an important part of my life and they’ve been just as instrumental in shaping me as a person, if not more so.
I love the idea of picking a decade and choosing one film per year based on various factors and I love the movies they chose and Michael Koresky’s relating of the movie to his life and his mom’s life. This book feels like the best possible gift and I love everything about it. Highly recommended.
I read this in 2022 but I'm writing a review in 2025 as I write my own substack journal entry about how me and mom had the same kind of relationship. We bonded over movies and media. Every time I watch a movie we loved when I was growing up it takes me right back. She showed me such good stuff: The Birdcage, Death Becomes Her, Serial Mom, Buffy, as well as loads of horror films I definitely shouldn't have been watching at my age but enjoyed nonetheless. Miss you mom.
Not my fav on audiobook. Loved that he honored his mother with it, but it was more about his sexuality then his relationship with his mother. And while that helped me understand his struggle as a gay/queer young man, it seemed as though that wasn't supposed to be the focus when you read the book jacket.
I discovered this book through the Criterion Channel list connected to it (only 1 of the featured films is actually available there, unfortunately). I was really drawn to the premise of revisiting movies the author watched with his Mom, and even more drawn to a book looking at mostly women-centered "middlebrow dramas," a genre I wish we saw more of these days.
Leslie seems like someone I would love to get to know better and maybe watch some movies with, not because her life was extraordinary by any of the usual measures, but because she seems like a curious and compassionate soul.
The only thing that really threw me off was the seemingly-surprised description of a UU church service that reflected progressive religious values... as UU services, um, pretty much always do. Additionally, a throwaway line about "never having to give two shits about Jesus Christ" felt especially jarring in a book that is otherwise consistently sensitive and compassionate.
The book made me want to revisit the big 80's dramas I heard about but never watched, and gave me the gift of Jessica Lange in "Country," which I think provided for me a similar kind of mirror to what the author experiences in "Avalon."
A really sweet memoir about a mother and son told through the 80s movies they watched (and revisited) together. I loved how our author not only tells his story, but also his mothers through the young eyes of his youth and as an adult.
Full of nostalgia in every way. Really enjoyed this
Lovely. Teared up a couple times. Beautiful prose, ponderings, reflections about family, self, films that spoke so intimately to me. I need to watch all these films now. They make the lack of “women’s pictures” in modern day Hollywood all the more obvious. Ugh. There are so many stories to be told that we aren’t telling!!
An interesting and authentic melding of film criticism and memoir/family biography -- interesting to me because I have been mulling over this very thing for another project, perhaps faintly similar, about the intersection of popular culture and the emergence of one's truest self. Koresky focuses on 1980s films that his mother introduced him to via VHS rentals (he was too young to have seen them first-run in theaters) that each feature strong female POV, from "Nine to Five" to "Terms of Endearment," "The Color Purple," "Crossing Delancy" -- movies that Hollywood just doesn't seem to make anymore (though one could argue television has picked up the slack; for one very recent example, Netflix's "Maid" would fit in very well here). Feels a little too tidy, emotionally, until Koresky's epilogue; the great gift here is Koresky rewatches the movies, as an adult, with his mother, and the two get to have long conversations about what the movie meant to them, then and now. A lovely relationship between a terrific mother and a grateful son.
Read if you: Want an engaging, sweet, and heartening memoir of a mother-son relationship and their bond through their love of movies.
I suspect Micharl Koresky and I are within a few years of each other; I remember many of these movies. I enjoyed his take on such movies such as 9 to 5, Baby Boom, and the like. It definitely helps if you are familiar with these movies; for the few that I hadn't, my interest did dip a bit. But what kept my interest was his endearing relationship with his mother and rediscovering new things about her life and interests.
Librarians/booksellers: Purchase for readers who want LGBTQ+ memoirs that feature a happy parent-child relationship.
Many thanks to Harlequin and NetGalley for a digital review copy in exchange for an honest review.
As a movie lover, I should love a nonfiction book about movies from the 1980s and, although I didn't "love" this book, I did enjoy it, with reservations. The 40-something NYC film critic/gay man/author joins his 70-something Jewish mother from outside Boston as they re-watch films from the 1980s that they originally watched when the author was a child. Each chapter covers a single film from each year in the decade. I think I was hoping for more information about the movies and less about their lives together, but the subtitle of "A Mother, a Son and the 80s Films that Defined Us" does give a hint of what is to come. The author's personal struggles with faith and sexual identity absorb much of each chapter, but there are also fascinating looks at movie backgrounds and actors that I really enjoyed and yearned for more. The beautiful mother/son bond that is portrayed is one to be envied and replicated whenever possible. Thanks to NetGalley and Harlequin Hanover Square Press for providing an ARC.
3.5. Koresky bravely sticks his neck out to put his formidable cinephile/critic persona in the passenger seat and let his inner memoirist/family historian do the driving. It's a nearly impossible balancing act, and he doesn't always succeed, though the insights into both family, self, and cinema are frequent. The book works best, maybe, when Koresky acknowledges the tension between the distinct creative impulses at work; it's during those self-interrogations that it feels most open, rich, and fruitful.
Before COVID-19 shut down the whole world, going to the movies was a collective, shared experience for many people. But streaming services and good old-fashioned DVDs have made watching films easy to do from the comfort and safety of home. Film critic Michael Koresky decided to go back to the decade when his mother Leslie shared her love of cinema with him and use ten films from that decade to pay tribute to her and to tell her story in a unique blend of critique and memoir.
“Films of Endearment: A Mother, a Son and the ‘8os Films That Defined Us” has a very specific template of films to choose from: the films from that decade that centered on a female protagonist as the central character. Koresky set these ground rules for the reason that his mother was drawn to those movies and, through her interest, he was as well. By examining “women’s pictures” of the Reagan Era, Koresky and his mother both uncovered truths about the decade that would seem to transcend the conservatism and bland macho posturing of a decade less known for quality art films and more for testosterone-fueled epics of explosion. This doesn’t mean that all the films they would revisit would be tearjerkers, but it does mean that many of them would be films that might not be as heralded today as some other popcorn classics.
Koresky admits early on to being caught off-guard about his mother’s citation of the 80’s as the decade of her favorite movies, as she came of age during the 60’s and 70’s amid the turmoil of social change and the invention of “New Hollywood.” But Leslie makes it clear why that decade means so much; she saw several films that featured women she could relate to, be they the struggling farmer’s wife in Jessica Lange’s “Country” or the ultimate female badass of Sigourney Weaver in “Aliens.” And Koresky himself found things about Eighties cinema that helped him come to terms with his homosexuality at a time when portrayals of queer characters were often for cheap jokes at their expense; the women’s pictures made it okay for him to acknowledge his emotional core in ways that the action movies devoured by his father and older brother did not.
This is a book in many ways about Koresky’s dad Bobby as it is about his mother; diagnosed with the beginnings of dementia in his mid-fifties, Koresky’s father would struggle through his final decade and leave Michael with a hazy idea of who his father really was aside from being “Dad.” Not wanting to lose the chance to know his mother until it was too late, Koresky envisioned their movie-watching time as a way to unearth some of the secrets of his mother’s past, from her domineering mother to her thwarted career ambitions to be a singer (she relates to Michelle Pfeiffer in “The Fabulous Baker Boys” for that very reason, though she admits that she wouldn’t have wanted the fame that would come with being successful). Leslie Koresky was a wife, mother, and support system for her family, and it was through the films of the 80’s (admittedly a poor time for thoughtful cinema, though far from a cultural wasteland in terms of compelling lead performances by female stars) that she saw herself in a diverse collection of women onscreen. From “The Color Purple”’s Whoopi Goldberg to Jane Fonda in “9 to 5,” from Karen Allen (playing a trans character in “Come Back to the Five-And-Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean”) to Diane Keaton in “Baby Boom,” Koresky and his mother find themselves in the presence of performances that lead to long, intense, amusing and heartbreaking discussions of what it means to be a mom and a gay son in America, in a decade not known for its openmindedness about gender and sexual orientation. And it’s not just the Eighties that has that reputation.
Much more than just a guide through cinema from a distant era, “Films of Endearment” is a look at the bonds that art can create when we least expect it, and about the shared love for pieces of entertainment that may seem ephemeral when they’re first released but which have a surprising longevity in the hearts of viewers who respond to them. Finally, it’s a loving tribute from a son to a mother who gave her child the courage to live his life and to embrace his identity through art.
In an era when film criticism--art criticism of all kinds really--is being destroyed by a combination of capitalist greed, PR firms, and the devaluation of the written word on social media, "Films Of Endearment" is likely of a dying breed. Written by a career film critic as he approaches middle age, author Michael Koresky has turned in a book that is part criticism, part memoir, and all about his relationship with his mother, as told through the great female-led films of the 80s.
Koresky argues that while the oft-cited high point of film history in the 1970s was an era of male-centrism (and often misogyny), the politically reactionary era of the 80s was also a time when women enjoyed a time of unprecedented prestige and control in Hollywood. Women were consciously served as an artistic audience in a way they had never been before, and that audience is nicely embodied by Koresky's mother, in all her complexity.
Weepies, women's pictures, melodramas: whatever you want to call them, the audience for these films is stereotpyically assumed to be mothers and gay men. Koresky takes this flip generalization and interrogates it with intellectual verve and emotional honesty here, as he takes account of his views versus his mother's views on films like "Terms of Endearment," "The Color Purple," and "The Fabulous Baker Boys."
In this critical memoir, Koresky unpacks how our list of "favorite films" speaks to both the quality of the films and the people, places, and times the evoke for us, and the reality that our appreciation of art is inextricable from those around us. At the same time, he examines what distance might exist between the lived feminism of a progressive east coast mom and the films that were once made and marketed for her.
If criticism is in terminal decline, at least we are still getting books like this to remember it by.
2.5 stars. I was drawn to this book immediately upon discovering it, since I am also a gay man who is close with his mother, have spent my life watching movies with her, and am passionate about female-driven mid-budget films from the ‘80s and ‘90s. And for the first few chapters, where the author writes of the unspoken power of film to speak for us, I felt for a moment that he could be writing about me and my mom.
But once we got down to the core of the book, it quickly lost me. For starters, personal narratives like these are emblematic of children getting to know their mothers who spent their entire lives being known as wife and mother. My own parents have admitted to not knowing certain truths of their own mothers’ lives, since they never thought to ask in an era of domestic housewifery that almost wiped women clear of any other identity. I’m thankful I didn’t grow up in such an era and have parents who are willing and able to share themselves with me.
It’s clear that the author didn’t really “know” his mother all that well growing up, aside from getting to know her through the movies she introduced him to. Thus, the goal of this book was to get to know her better through rewatching those movies. But each chapter felt like a stretch.
The author tries to contextualize his mother’s life with what inspired the subject matter of the films they watched, but it just feels like him taking creative liberties as to why they MIGHT have resonated with her. Like, why don’t you just ask her outright? She’s sitting right there? Maybe their relationship had certain barriers that are implied within the prose. But either way, it pokes holes in the book’s thesis statement.
I don't know what I was expecting from this one. A paean to the movies featured within its pages? Something akin to She Come By It Natural: Dolly Parton and the Women Who Lived Her Songs where the author learns a lot about his mother from the viewing of these films? A combination of the two?
The author does a good job describing the films and their relevance when they came out. While he learns some things about his mother during the process, there are many questions he did not answer, many opportunities that were lost.
The book ends when Covid-19 was already ravaging the nation. It describes what it was like not to be able to visit, to share meals and movies not just with his mom, but with other friends and family members as well. The book also lives in the shadow of the death of the author's father and how it affected their family dynamic. Both of these events left me with a sense of urgency for him to know his mother before it is too late. And while I was disappointed that he did not seize the opportunity to get to know his mother more, I also realize that I would not probe into my own mother's psyche to understand her better.
Michael Koresky provides the dual perspective of a professional movie critic and a loving son in his warm-hearted memoir Films of Endearment: A Mother, A Son and the 80’s Films that Defined Us. As Koresky delves into his upbringing and major life events, he uses the films he and his mother share together to contemplate their relationship and shared experience. He draws on the personal to illuminate the cultural significance of his favorite movies and uses family history to provide context for his selections. The author candidly reveals his early-on sexual identity bewilderment, his wavering ties with Judaism, and his experiences of grief. He uses these anecdotes to initiate a discussion about representation and identity issues as reflected in films of that decade. At its core, this book is first and foremost an homage to his mother. Films of Endearment veers often into oversentimentality, but Koresky’s expertise as a film critic with a sharp sense of humor saves it from becoming too saccharine. With this book, the author is talking to a niche audience—those of his own generation that share his passion for movies. The included reviews raise (and answer) questions about Koresky’s own development and expose his deep fondness for reminiscence and insight. Warning: Films of Endearment may encourage readers to explore their own beloved films in a search for a similar self-understanding.
Thanks to the author, and Hanover Square Press for an ARC in exchange for an unbiased review.
Films of Endearment is a much better portrait of the relationship between a mother and a son than it is a work of film criticism; Koresky's insights into his family and his past feel honest, refreshing and earnest while his movie observations are all mostly just... fine. His pop culture takes aren't bad per se but they aren't particularly revelatory.
As such the cynic in me want to call this book kinda inessential. After all, what do I care about the private life of some random elderly lady from New England that I'm never going to meet? I came here for the movie talk, damnit!
But that's just me being an uncharitable grump. Yes, I was a little disappointed in this book because its cinema commentary was less insightful than I was hoping it would be... But on the plus side this book was more emotional then I expected it to be. There is a lot of heart in this pages! And once I re-calibrated my expectations from "this is going to be a heady book of film criticism" to "this is going to be an emotional book about the bond between a parent and a child" I grew to like the book more. Ultimately I'm not sure that I learned much about the cinema of the 80s but I did have a good time getting to know more about that random elderly lady who lives in New England.
4.5 stars, rounded up. I seem to have a weakness for film-driven memoirs - I liked David Gilmour's "The Film Club," about the movies he watched with his son, more than many others did. Koresky's memoir is even better - a remembrance of the 1980s movies that informed his film-love and helped him to bond, through re-watches of several titles years later, with his mother. While I lapped up some of the chapters that covered selections that informed my own cine-fanaticism - such as Robert Altman's "Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean," the plot of which was very vague in my memory until Koresky's chapter on the movie brought it back - it's the author's asides about a couple of movies he doesn't cover in-depth that made this book soar: Terrence Malick's "The Tree of Life" and Barry Levinson's "Avalon," both very dear to me. The book is deeply personal and engages with topics that will make some of my friends who read this capsule review uncomfortable. I'll let them look up the details and make their own choice about whether or not to dive into "Films of Endearment." I, for one, am very glad I did.
How could I help but love this book? It starts with a chapter about Dolly Parton and Jane Fonda and ends with a chapter about Michelle Pfeiffer! I had no choice but to love it. But in all seriousness, this is a very lovely book that resonated with me on many levels. Through the films of the 80s, the author is able to give us a portrait of his mother, his family and of the growing social consciousness that women’s issues were raising at that time. As a film studies major in college, this book felt like something I would write. And many of the authors personal stories closely mirrored my own. I dearly loved this book. It is film commentary and memoir and autobiography all at once. A tricky thing to pull off but he does it. And I loved the deep respect and admiration the author seems to have for many of the actresses profiled in this. One of my favorites of the year so far.