Of the myriad varieties of reasons to revisit a film, one of my absolute favorites is that I wasn't able to process all of it during that first time. Contrary to popular belief, film critics are made, not born, and there was a time in all of our lives when we just weren't mature, informed, or even just old enough to appreciate the details and nuances in certain films. That of course doesn't mean we'll like them better later in life, but at least we'll have better reasons why we can't stand the damn thing.
The Leopard was a film I saw in theaters in the mid-1990s at the behest of one of my college roommates, a guy who read books about string theory like Godel, Escher, Bach for fun. I remember being stricken by it during that initial viewing, not the least of which because of the elaborate, gorgeous production design, and Burt Lancaster's indisputably commanding presence – even in Italian. But I confess that I probably didn't "get" a lot of it, even if I would have insisted at the time that I did.