Some of this movie comes from, you know, from me, sure. But it’s not, you know, I’m never going to be able to make a movie that doesn’t, you know. Even if I’m making a movie about the turn of the century, I think you’re gonna, it’s always going to be personal. It’s just in the detailed stuff; the horses in Sheryl Lynn’s bedroom, with the ribbons on the wall, and you got sisters or you got a girlfriend who loves to ride horses and all this stuff. And those little details that you remember, I’ve been loving to put those in a movie.
I think, you know what, when I grew up in the valley, I lived there, I was really embarrassed for the longest time that that’s where I lived and that’s where I grew up, cause I knew I wanted to make movies. And I would look back to my favourite directors, and think, okay, there’s Howard Hawks, and boy, he served in the war. And there’s Ernst Lubich who escaped Germany, you know, and all these wonderful sort of things going on in our lives that you could, you’re supposed to bring to a movie, you know. But, I don’t have shit to bring, I was like, I’m from the fucking valley, you know. And, I was really embarrassed about that for a long time, I guess, until one day I just woke up and said, “Well, I’m from the valley, and I remember things like little plastic horses and the blue ribbon on the wall with the fucking girlfriend, and you know, I guess that’s what I have to make movies about.”
—Paul Thomas Anderson, Boogie Nights director’s commentary
A girl and her things.
Memories of burning candles, shampoo scents. The colours and the smells give me a total overwhelming sense of poignant nostalgia.
Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a real girls room, and being there, in the middle of all the dainty things and the different fabrics, I didn’t know what was more embarrassing: the fact that I felt like I was 17 again, or the realization of how much I’ve missed it.
And this is all I can write about.