In 1997 I headed to the theaters to see Chasing Amy and fell. Hard. I wasn't gay, nor living the high life in New York City, nor pouring over comic books and attending Comic-Cons, but I could relate. I was just a girl in her first handful of post-high school years -- that time where the real world starts to come into focus, when maturation accelerates forward as some beliefs solidify, and others change with each passing day. I wasn't a particularly discerning moviegoer. At that time, I liked what I liked and had little time or patience to delve into why. Kevin Smith's lack of a visual style didn't bother me. In fact, I didn't notice, because unless an auteur had a distinct visual flair a la David Lynch back then, I was oblivious.
I've watched Chasing Amy occasionally through the years -- especially in the first few, making everyone I knew sit down to see it with me. As time moved on, viewings slowed. Picking it up 5 or 10 years later, I quickly spotted both the lack of visual prowess and just how completely and utterly '90s it was (the latter of which isn't a bad thing, just a bit of an aged jolt). But now, 13 years later, I was curious how it would hold up if I watched it with plans to write about it -- paying strict attention and not just letting retro fandom, or current Smith distaste as the case may be, affect me.
And it held up quite well.