Early in 1992's Wayne's World, a bunch of rockers squeeze into an AMC Pacer with custom flames painted on the side. As they drive past the automarts, car washes and beef stands of downtown Chicago, Bohemian Rhapsody plays on the car stereo. The song's operatic verses are used for laughs (the Let me go line becomes a cry for help from a friend who is partied out and might honk in the backseat)
The art of anticipation At first glance, Drew's posters look realistic, almost photographic. But look again. The light gives them away; that soft glow around Harrison Ford's fedora in The Last Crusade, or the angelic rays of light behind Michael J Fox in Back to the Future. It's not normal light; it's the glow of promise, of something extraordinary just about to happen.
Our love of her films is pretty much the only cultural taste I inherited from her. I was about 10 when she first let me watch a VHS off the grown-up shelf. She picked Baby Boom. I might wonder what the appeal of a film about a high-flying 80s businesswoman inheriting a baby was to a kid were it not so plainly funny, spanning Keaton's talents from screwball to synonymous with comfort, and a curious lens on adult life.