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Time Out says
At least Marion Crane got one thing right: a boy (or girl, for that matter) should have a hobby. I presume, since you're reading this, cinema's one of yours. Mine too. After a quarter century working with movies, I still average, for work and/or pleasure, six to ten features a week. Film's important, right? But how important? Marion was only partly right; she should've said hobbies. When love turns from passion into obsession, it no longer improves the quality of life, but takes life over. Best to keep a passion in perspective, lest physical and mental health are endangered. If proof's needed that monomania's a risky business, this funny, sad doc about five of New York's most avid film fans supplies it. If one may use an ageist term loosely, they are (predictably, given the gender tendencies of most anorak activities) four guys and a gal, with their own peculiar areas of interest and knowledge (European art movies, classic Hollywood comedy), seats, habits, costume and diet requirements. A colourful, mostly likeable lot (though the violence that flares up sometimes at the frustration of a desire is worrying), they display varying degrees of self-awareness. The most stoical frankly admits cinema is for him a substitute for a rich social life; another seems bent only on ticking off every title he can lay his eyes on. There but for the grace of God... (And you do know who Marion Crane is, don't you? Think shower scenes...)