Where the Boys Are is chock-full of characters whose names appear to be straight space-travel-lifted from various #JohnWaters' movies: Tuggle Carpenter! TV Thompson! Lola Fandango! Dr. Raunch for Chrissakes!

“The boys come to soak up the sun, and a few carloads of beer. The girls come, very simply, because this is where the boys are.”

– narrator

We follow four female midwestern college students on #SpringBreak in Fort Lauderdale. Their objective is boys boys boys (and an even tan) and nothing, including being too young to drink, can stop them. This was one of the first post-Hayes Hollywood movies to address teenage sex yet despite all the innuendo (“What's your shoe size?” “13.” “Get in the car!”), it's all pretty clean. But without these girls, there wouldn't be any Dawn Davenport. And that would've ruined everybody's Christmas.

“You know how much coffee I've had today? 17 cups. The Brazilians ought to give me a medal.”

– ER doctor

Both anticapitalist and pre-Stanley space odyssey. Based on Stanislaw Lem's Obłok Magellana [The Magellanic Cloud] (1955).

“I still can't figure out if it's an office, a market place, or a boxing ring. And maybe I don't even need to.”

– Vittoria

Barbara wakes up believing a fireman entered her bedroom through the window. Her father reassures her there's nothing, just a children's story. Years later, the adult Barbara (Caroline Loeb), grown up, withdrawn, living with her father (Dionys Mascolo), tutor, half brother (Pascal Greggory), and a persistent longing for her fireman, sparks a scheme that forces the fire brigade to come to their house and climb through her window once again.

“It's you.”

Flammes has a strange, stilted quality to it which reminds me, not in the least because of the presence of Geoffrey Carey as the restless American who travels with his own firefighter suit, of Raúl Ruiz's staged cinematic language. As in Ruiz's The Territory (1981), the characters drift in and out of space, and as in its half brother Der Stand der Dinge (Wim Wenders, 1982) we're left with wonderfully lingering performers who seem detached from, yet devoted to, their raison d'être.

“We'll eat Chinese. OK?”

Synchronous to the screening of a film that wasn't, Derek Jarman's Blue was broadcast on radio and television. Those who tuned into the radio could request a special card printed in that most spectral of colours, International Klein Blue, a blue that according to its creator Yves Klein, has “a quality close to pure space” and “immaterial values beyond what can be seen or touched”.

“You say to the boy 'Open your eyes'. When he opens his eyes and sees the light, you make him cry out, saying 'Oh, Blue, come forth! Oh, Blue, arise! Oh, Blue, ascend! Oh, Blue, come in!'.”

– Nigel Terry

Submerged in #blue, seeing through what was left of Jarman's eyes, we live through the artist's life, and love, and loss. When you leave the theatre, put down that card, you're temporarily blinded by the physiological afterimage of a devastating disease. What remains is the voice of a filmmaker who lost his sight.