Some of the writers here at The Film Magazine are publishing thoughtful pieces about romance in cinema this Valentine’s Day — deep dives and serious analysis. Usually I’d follow that route, but this time I’m taking a different tack. Sorry.
For many people, movies are a lifelong passion. Most people enjoy films, but few truly love the medium. I used to be one of those who merely liked movies: the kind of person who would watch a film and move on, not stay up late following the Oscars or digging through bargain-basement classics. I intended to study literature, not film. Everything shifted in 2011 when I saw a YouTube trailer advertising an upcoming release. That film was Scream 4, and one look at Ghostface’s mask changed everything for me.
I watched the trailer and was hooked. I knew almost nothing about horror or film history, but I decided I had to see it. At 13, the thought of sneaking into a 15-rated film didn’t deter me — I was determined. But first I figured I should watch the earlier movies to understand what was going on.
Seeing the original Scream was revelatory. It didn’t just tell a story; it deconstructed the tropes I already recognized and showed the mechanics behind them. Other filmmakers had played with self-referential horror before — Wes Craven himself experimented with meta elements in New Nightmare — but as a novice I felt like I’d stepped through the school gates into a vast building of rooms and corridors, each room a new genre or idea to explore. For a long time the original Scream was my favourite film.
I obsessed over the characters and the rules of the genre. I learned Randy’s rules for surviving a horror movie and tried, rather earnestly, to teach my classmates the logic of meta-horror. I doodled Ghostface on every spare square of my maths book and even teamed up with a friend in class under the morbid nicknames Billy and Stu — an odd tribute considering the film’s finale, but that’s the kind of intoxication it inspired.
From there my film-watching widened rapidly. I devoured horror classics from The Shining to Dracula, following every reference and rabbit hole the films suggested. My parents were concerned at first, but as long as my grades held up they accepted my increasingly eccentric cinematic habit. I traced the threads of influence through directors and films, like a dog following a trail of biscuits deeper into the world of cinema.
Gradually I branched out beyond horror into science fiction, crime, fantasy and westerns. Superhero films remained a late arrival for me — entertaining but never a deep love. What truly changed my relationship with movies, however, was discovering film analysis online. I remember watching videos about The Shining — perhaps Rob Ager’s — and realizing movies could be layered, psychologically precise, and deliberately crafted to evoke subtle emotions. That was the turning point where films ceased to be mere popcorn entertainment and became serious art worthy of study, critique, and sustained appreciation.
That realization shaped my academic path. I took Media Studies at A-Level and studied Film and Television in my BA. Over the years I attended events like the Abertoir Horror Festival, took part in screenings and workshops at Pinewood, and spent two years as President of Aberystwyth University’s British Film & Television Society. In my final year the university brought in industry professionals, including producer Huw Penallt Jones, who helped me secure the final short film I wanted to make. I’ve had the chance to meet filmmakers such as Gareth Evans (The Raid) and Sean Cunningham (Friday the 13th), and to sit in on discussions with editors and sound designers like Walter Murch (Apocalypse Now, The Godfather trilogy), experiences that deepened my understanding of film craft.
Film hasn’t just shaped my interests — it directed the path of my life and led me to where I am today, writing about cinema.
Even now, every so often I pull my old DVD of Scream from the shelf and watch it with fresh appreciation. It’s not my single favourite film anymore — that crown currently belongs to Blade Runner — but Scream will always hold a special place in my heart. That movie set me on a course that lasted years and changed how I look at storytelling. Some films stay with you forever; for me, Wes Craven’s 1996 Scream will always be sacred in that small, personal way.
[Follow me on Twitter: @KJudgeMental]