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A River Runs Through It is my comfort food. I cry my way through the book and I cry at the end of the film (even, apparently, if I’m watching it in public). when Brad Pitt’s Paul turns to Norman and says “I’ll never leave Montana, brother,” the sniffles began in the Pacific Film Archives and didn’t stop till I was into my walk home. watching one the (fairly) big screen I gasped again at the first shots of Brad Pitt in the blue-grey early mornings on the river, his face and shirt blending with the rushing Blackfoot. I thought of David Thomson’s description of Catherine Deneuve in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg: “so pretty, so adorable, she seemed dipped in liquid cocaine.” and so he was, in one of the best actor-character matches in cinema.

A River Runs Through It is my comfort food. I cry my way through the book and I cry at the end of the film (even, apparently, if I’m watching it in public). when Brad Pitt’s Paul turns to Norman and says “I’ll never leave Montana, brother,” the sniffles began in the Pacific Film Archives and didn’t stop till I was into my walk home.

watching one the (fairly) big screen I gasped again at the first shots of Brad Pitt in the blue-grey early mornings on the river, his face and shirt blending with the rushing Blackfoot. I thought of David Thomson’s description of Catherine Deneuve in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg: “so pretty, so adorable, she seemed dipped in liquid cocaine.” and so he was, in one of the best actor-character matches in cinema.

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