As you probably read—or at least glimpsed—on the Main Page, “CINE FEEL YEAH is a little blog with big, idiosyncratic aspirations. While its name is a corruption of the more recognizable word cinephilia, it is an otherwise well-curated collection of impassioned ideas and feelings about the cinema past, present, and future.”

At the moment, there is just one author: Alexandra Frank, a lifelong movie-lover who, as you shall see, pays an awful lot of attention to the practices that go into making films and the responses of various people and institutions to said products. That’s just a highfalutin’ way of saying that she’s really into the production and consumption of films. More specifically, like any self-respecting feminist 20-something with a liberal arts degree, she is deftly skilled at examining the dynamism and intersectionality of gender, sexuality, class, and race as well as issues of representation. Eh, that sounded pompous. But those are just some typical subjects engaged.

You are invited to explore the site’s different content areas. There are in-depth, analytical essays (aka Long Takes) as well as short, critical write-ups (Quick Edits) about individual films. Jump Cuts play around with the trivial aspects of the Movies, and Montage contextualizes the cinema and the movie-going experience. News Clips comment on “breaking” entertainment news stories. (You can also hop over to my Tumblr, which is a repository of film and TV trivia.)

Looking for a good place to start? Hover over the navigation tabs to see available essay titles or have a gander at the topics listed on the right side of any post.

Perhaps in the future, more “curators” will join Alexandra. They’re always welcome in the comments section of any post. Because CINE FEEL YEAH (and its correctly morphed counterpart) is a different experience for everyone. Sound it out.

But if you wish to get in touch privately, with comments, questions, or concerns, you can reach me at cinefeelyeah [AT] gmail [DOT] com.

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In an effort to be more sociable, allow me to introduce myself with random bits of movie-related ephemera.

Favorite Films:

24 Hour Party People (Michael Winterbottom, 2002)—the best movie about post-modernism, it’s also an historical ode to late 20th century Manchester, and the soundtrack’s killer

Trainspotting (Danny Boyle, 1996)—a holdover from my childhood (yes, I know), with such visual and verbal wit. Truly a remarkable film adaptation of a singular novel

Stealing Beauty (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1996)—an atmospheric character study about the power of sensuality

Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982)—the best movie about post-modernity

Favorite Directors:

Michael Winterbottom—generically adventurous; preoccupied with truth vs. fiction

Danny Boyle—the master at marrying image and sound

Woody Allen—philosophical, funny, and neurotic (like me!)

Nicole Holofcener—specializes in funny and poignant movies about recognizable women with recognizable problems

Movies I Always Watch Whenever They’re on TV:

Happy-Go-Lucky (Mike Leigh, 2008)—the characters are thoroughly watchable, and the storytelling is effortless

The Truth About Cats & Dogs (Michael Lehmann, 1996)—one of the best female friendship films

Just the Way You Are (Edouard Molinaro, 1984)—I just love Kristy McNichol’s smile

The Movie I Love to Watch, Even Though It’s Really Bad (I don’t believe in guilty pleasures):

Le Divorce (James Ivory, 2003)—Paris! Beautiful (but horrible!) French men! The worst movie dialogue ever written and delivered!

Film-Related Pet Peeves:

Manic Pixie Dream Girls—for more on the archetype, see this and this

Sex scenes wherein the characters are fully clothed—I fly off the handle here on this topic

Flashback framing devices

Damsels in distress and women who are control freaks (though I’m quite the perfectionist)

The Subjects of Biopics I’d Like to See Someday:

Nellie Bly, the late 19th century investigative journalist—her daring accomplishments should be reintroduced into the popular culture

Catherine of Aragon—smart, clever, and powerful, she should be remembered as more than just King Henry VIII’s first wife

Salvador Dali and his wife Gala—how would a writer like Charlie Kaufman render their odd, passionate romance?