Chaplin Books

like to suggest that the fundamental way, conscious or not, in which we determine the quality of a film is by the degree to which the re-experiencing of ourselves coincides with our pride, our shames, our hopes, our honour.

Continually awaiting an answer to, or a satisfaction of, their deepest needs, they are nonetheless always disappointed;

tries to inject the bracing truth that, from start to finish, life isn’t very dramatic after all.