ABOUT
THE RE:CUT
“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”
~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Somewhere in my early childhood, nestled into my gran’s lap with the whir of a VHS player in the background, the world cracked open. No age ratings, no disclaimers — just movies, in all their glory.
The ones that terrified me.
The ones that inspired me.
The ones that stitched themselves into my DNA.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I was learning that films could do more than entertain. They offered a lens on reality: heartbreaks with soundtracks, trauma with lighting cues, ordinary afternoons that could shift tone faster than a Tarantino cut.
Those early screenings blurred the line between cinema and life, and that’s what The Re:Cut is about. Revisiting the scenes — both real and cinematic — that shaped us. Watching old memories and discovering new meanings spliced between the frames. Realizing that a film — like a moment — can look completely different through the lens of time.
Movies don’t just tell stories; they project us—onto the big screen, into each other’s lives, and back into our own. And if you hear the faint hum of an old film reel somewhere between sentiment and cynicism… that’s probably my grandma, rewinding the tape and cueing up our next flick.
ABOUT
ME
“Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”
~ Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
For me, movies have always been more than entertainment; they’ve been mirrors. Some shaped me, some challenged me, and some—like Hedwig and the Angry Inch—spoke directly to the parts of me still finding their voice. As Hedwig says, “I laugh, because I will cry if I do not.” That line is basically my mantra: humor as survival, honesty as identity.
I’m a mix of contradictions: reflective yet impulsive, serious yet ridiculous, loyal but opinionated. I notice the small things—the gestures, the silences, the moments others might miss—because they often matter most. I talk to characters on screen (they rarely answer), overanalyze minor plot points, and laugh at things no one else finds funny. I can talk about movies endlessly, and the post-movie debrief is almost as good as the film itself!
I swapped the corporate world for not-for-profit many years ago, and I’ve spent that time growing into a leader I’m proud to be. My work matters—it’s about impact, integrity, and making life better for the people and communities we serve.
I’m married to Cyril (together since 2012), and we share our home with our cat, Norman, who is one of the most quirky and delightful creatures I’ve ever known. I’m British, living in Canada since 2005 and in Nova Scotia since 2010. I’m motivated by social justice, beer, roller coasters, empathy, hiking, and a perfectly timed movie pun.
In short: I notice, I feel, I laugh, I cry when I must, and I try to live with curiosity, humor, and a little cinematic flair.
HOW I RE:CUT:
Somewhere between those grainy VHS days and now, I started wondering what happens when you revisit the stories that raised you. That’s really what this whole project is — watching the same films with different eyes, and seeing what they reveal about both cinema and self.
Every movie here gets a second screening — not just on the TV, but in my head. I start with how I first saw it: as a kid, a teenager, a young adult or even something more recent. Then I rewatch it now, with time, life, and a therapist between me and that first viewing.
I’m not here to be objective. I’m here to see what’s changed — in the film, and in me.
Each post follows a rhythm: The First Watch, where I reveal my first intersection with the movie in question. In The Re:Watch, I look at the movie in the here and now - who I’m with, who I am today - and unpack new meaning; The Re:View will offer my present-day thoughts on its merit as a piece of film; the Mise-en-Scène is where I drop it back into its cultural and cinematic moment; and the The Re:Cut is where I zoom out and see what lingers after the lights come up.
It’s not really film criticism. It’s emotional archaeology — digging through the celluloid layers of the movies that made me to see what’s still alive in the reel.