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(In honor of Mother's Day, we're launching a series of posts today written, in part, by our mothers after we asked them one simple (yet very complex) question: What's your favorite movie and why?)
The first film I ever watched with my parents was Annie Hall. I was three. I'd go on to watch bits and pieces of it throughout the years (my mother always had it on), but it wasn't until later in life that I came to really appreciate everything this film represents and all that it means for my eccentric Jewish family from New York. So when I asked my mother for her favorite movie, I already knew this would be the first one out of her mouth ...
"At that time, I related to Annie Hall. I always dressed differently; was always trying to better myself. We were hip, your Dad and I; we lived in the city and I even had a Bloomingdale's card that Daddy was always trying to take away from me. I just saw myself in this film. I went to school, but never finished -- not only was Woody Allen at his best when he made this film, but he also captured this time in New York City perfectly. A close second after Annie Hall would be The Big Chill -- because I never graduated college and I never had a group of friends like that, so I was always drawn to that movie. And the soundtrack ... how do you beat that soundtrack?"
Ever since I found this story earlier today, I've been singing Purple Rain to myself all morning. And this is one of those songs I don't have memorized, so if you were near me you'd hear something like this: [To Purple Rain tune] "Don't tell me ... you could ever see me again -- Purple Rain ... Purrrple Rain." C'mon, like I'm the only person out there who fudges the words to songs. Guaranteed you will start humming this tune now, it's that addictive. Just don't blame me. Anyway, 
A few years ago, I would've been much less nervous about the news that 
As even the least film-dorky among us know - if only
from the story of 
