Film people are awfully discerning, in a way that makes them, more often than not, deeply annoying. We are all adamant that what we love deserves to be loved; that our art form is superior to the others — even if its varying styles and genres are all designed to make us feel something different. Some argue that there’s no greater filmmaker that Varda, or Fellini, or Tarkovsky. Others are delighted by the visual splendour of Wes Anderson. Then there’s the ones who have achieve true peace, and refer to films by their actual titles and not the people who make them.
As a result, buying a gift for someone who loves movies can be difficult. But fear not! We know how to do it. From your A24 nuts to the freaky girls who loves a lil Lars Von Trier, here’s your movie fan’s ultimate gift guide.
The Kinohead
If your significant other, brother or sister, mother or father refer to director’s solely by their surnames, make a point of buying physical media and refer to cinema unironically as ‘kino’, then they’re going to want a Christmas gift that reflects that level of artistic respect. The kinohead is particular: a Prime Video subscription? Unless it comes with the Curzon Home Cinema add-on, forget it! Instead, those rare, physical Criterion Collection discs are more up their street. Maybe you pre-order them the Chantal Akerman Masterpieces (£63) set? Or Benjamin Christensen’s 1922 classic Häxan (£22.28)? If they fancy some light reading, Ian Penman’s Fassbinder Thousands of Mirrors (£12.99) is a meta take on their favourite West German filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
Or, memberships! Nothing says ‘I love cinema more than you lot’ than spending all your time in an arthouse theatre. The BFI’s line-up of retrospectives and indie releases makes an annual membership (£39) for London kinoheads worthwhile, and they can gush about Powell and Pressburger’s excellence as they pore over The Red Shoes: Beyond the Mirror, the exhibition running til 7 January (though we know the real heads go to Close-Up). New York? It’s a Film Forum membership (starting at £39.84) or die.
The shock auteur obsessive
Their favourite film is Salo: 120 Days of Sodom. They think Lars Von Trier is probably actually a really nice guy. Saw? That’s cinema for dumb people – Cannibal Holocaust is what matters. This person, more than anything, needs a psychotherapist, but in lieu of not being able to match their schedule or for budgetary constraints, why not hit up Exotic Originals who can track down a vintage Japanese poster (£262) from that aforementioned Pasolini nightmare torture movie, and then track down a ticket for a screening of it at the Prince Charles Cinema in 35mm. Jump on Etsy and buy them a Redbubble reject Un Film De Gaspar Noé T-shirt (£16.86), and watch them explain his ouevre to unwitting fellow patrons in the pub.
Buy Curzon’s meaty and impressive box-set of Lars’ movies (£139.99) and watch them position it perfectly on the shelf above their bed so they can stick on Antichrist post-coitus (or, let’s be realistic, post-self-pleasure). But yes, therapy is preferable.
The Wes Anderson aesthete
If their favourite film is The Grand Budapest Hotel and they spent Sunday afternoons doing something vaguely wholesome, it’s likely that your film fan acquaintance is someone easy to buy for. Think: dainty, pastel, pretty. Of course you can buy them a copy of Asteroid City on Blu-Ray (£19.99) (it’s really good tbf), but maybe you should make a slightly more inspired decision! Buy them some Fortnum & Mason Turkish delight (£12.95) to let them live their candified Grand Budapest fantasy. Scour eBay for some old school promotional merch from his old movies, like this sweet family photo album (£35.86) for The Royal Tenenbaums or a lunchbox (£57.37) for Isle of Dogs? There’s also an Accidentally Wes Anderson jigsaw (£18.99) if that tickles your fancy.
But if in doubt – books! There’s plenty of them, like i-D contributor Sophie Monks-Kaufman’s pocket guide (£9.99) to his work or The Wes Anderson Collection (£35), the Urban Outfitters bookshelf mainstay. Or, if you happen to have £3000 kicking about, why not buy Ralph Fiennes’ prisoner costume from The Grand Budapest Hotel? A worthy investment tbh.
The friend whose only cinema trip was to see Renaissance or Eras
You can buy merch from both shows online (Taylor here and Bey here). Then, they can complete the Holy Trinity by buying Stop Making Sense on Blu-Ray (£25.49).
Someone who owns the A24 cap
Look, we get it. We’ve spent years leaning into the A24-is-not-just-a-hot-cool-production-company-but-an-adjective-for-good-cinema sthick, but in our defence, we’re mostly right! They do magnificent things! And it’s likely that a gay person in your life agrees with us too. Thankfully, they’re the easiest people to buy for, because A24’s merch line remains stacked. After making them a card-carrying member of the AAA24 club (from £3.98 a month) –a worthy addition to their Letterboxd Patron membership – you can stuff their stocking full of limited edition 10th anniversary playing cards (£15.94), the stunning Past Lives score on vinyl (£27.89), a May Queen embroidered T-shirt (£31.88) or their beautiful new hardback book Stories From a Place Where All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (£43.83). Of course, these recommendations are all rendered futile by the fact that your A24-pilled acquaintance likely has all of these things already. Maybe Neon has a merch store?
That guy who talks about Marvel like his dad is Stan Lee
Buy them a Spider-Man pyjama gift set and wish them a speedy recovery.
