I love movies. I love watching them, reading about them, waiting for them to be released, talking about them and going to cinemas or movie festivals.

Some movies need to be seen at the cinema, some movies need to be seen with your best friend and take out, some movies need to be seen alone with a tub of ice cream, some movies need to be seen at a festival and some movies just need to be seen.

For a good part of my childhood I had this vague memory of a man showing me his metal leg and then hitting it with his cane. I asked my parents if we had such a relative or if I met someone who did that when I was very little. They said no, so I let it go.

One evening when I was nine or ten, my father told me that a very good movie was scheduled to air that night and that we should watch it together. I was on board because I had already caught the cinema bug and also trusted my father’s taste in movies.

I was fascinated by the story. A boy, talking funny and walking funny, kind hearted and adored by his mother, managing to succeed in life. Becoming a young adult, he goes to war, comes back from it alive, invests in the right business at the right time, runs across the country, meets the president, starts a fishing company and marries the love of his life.

At one point during the movie, Lt. Dan shows Forrest his prosthetic leg and hits it with his cane. I was shocked and relieved at the same time. That was the scene I had been talking about for years! That was the man showing me his metal leg! That was my memory, not a movie!

My parents told me they had watched Forrest Gump before with me in the living room, I was much younger then and they didn’t think I could remember any of the scenes. Yet I did.

So one of my first memories, if not my first one, is that scene from Forrest Gump. My attraction towards movies began early and is still strong after all these years. This story is just a testimony of the connection between me and cinema. A connection so deep that for years I thought that I met a man with a prosthetic leg when, in fact, it was Lt. Dan.

For me, this is just a representation of how powerful movies are. I watched Forrest Gump many times after that and, at some degree, my perspective changed. As a teenager I was most fascinated by the love story and by Forrest’s devotion for Jenny. As a young adult, I was intrigued by his success in life, by his optimism and by the way things seemed to fall into place just because his intentions were so pure. Now, I’m also seeing the masterpiece that Forrest Gump is, script wise, actor wise and directorial wise. But funnily enough, no perspective is stronger than the first one. When I close my eyes, that scene with Lt. Dan is so vivid and fresh, as if I were actually there.

Movies can be anything: an escape, a fantasy, a depiction of your deepest fears, a way to laugh or cry, a way to bond with someone, a way to reconnect with your childhood or a way to learn something new. Forrest Gump has a special place in my heart. I’m curious to see how my perspective will change with time and what aspect of the story will impact me the most as I grow older.