In my first published review, I was identified as Berry Range

ITHINK every human being has a hoarding gene. Some of us will keep favourite books on a shelf for years, just in case you want to read them again. The same goes for clothes that were made for special occasions, like an engagement party.

Inevitably, those clothes were packed away and kept “for best”. They often hung in the closet for years, moth-balled and sealed in plastic, waiting for the perfect occasion to be worn again. Somehow this never happens.

The same goes for books. You finish something great and say to yourself: “I’ll put it on the shelf and read it again later” but “later” inevitably turns into “never” and a wasted book that no one reads is a crime against nature. I’m getting better about passing books on to others, but I still hang on to favourites.

For me, though, there is a more compelling version of the hoarding gene. It’s all about movies, the posters and the publicity photographs.

As winter nears, we need to unpack and air the jerseys, jackets and polo-neck sweaters that will keep us snug.

As I recently hauled the winter clothes off the top shelf, one box fell and — quite literally — knocked me back into a past life. In the box were three dusty exercise books, whose contents would determine the course of my life, although I did not know it at the time.

The first thing I noticed as I paged through them was my handwriting. It was crisp, neat and legible. I truly did not recognise it. I compared it to the impatient scrawl I currently produce and realised how typing on our computers, cellphones and tablets has eroded the style and elegance of handwriting.

Penmanship, however, was just a sideline. I was on my way to becoming an adult and my first year at Wits University in 1965 was better than I thought it would be.

I bought Wits Student, the campus newspaper, and read it with almost religious constancy, enjoying the news and debate. I soon realised that they did not have a film-review column.

For three weeks, I toiled mightily over three reviews of current movies and presented them to the editor, who read them quickly and passed them on to a second person, who said: “That’s not a bad idea”. I walked out of the office as the official film reviewer.

In my first published review, I was identified as Berry Range, an error that I rapidly corrected. But the process changed my life.

It did, however, take a while to work it all out. After I graduated, I joined the staff at Wits for a decade, but the siren song of the media seduced me into journalism, first at Fair Lady, then The Star and, finally, the Sunday Times.

I must, however, mention two huge issues. In the past, going to a movie was a very different experience. The cinemas were wonderful, opulent creations, full of style and glamour. Inside there was a group of ushers, mainly women, who wore smart uniforms and led their “patrons” by torchlight to their seats — something that hardly happens anymore. It was part of the grand movie experience.

Those same women also had a tray hung around their necks, filled with sweets and ice cream, which they sold to you in your seat.

They also sold a magazine, Stage and Cinema, in which previews of coming attractions were printed. I devoured these as I went home on the bus.

Of course, back then films opened first in the US, then the UK, then in Europe and eventually — six to nine months later — they would land in South Africa. As a result, film magazines offered old news, but the audience knew no better. People saw the magazines as a souvenir of their outing.

I began to wonder if there were copies still in circulation. To my surprise, I found three websites where they sell at prices ranging from R10 to R80. These mags originally cost about 50c.

When those books fell out of my cupboard, they reminded me how my passion for the movies turned into my career — which started in an era of opulent movie palaces, but have since evolved into multi-screen cineplexes where there are no ushers to bring treats.

Still, the movies remain unchanged. Looking at the string of new releases — Iron Man 3, the hilarious This is 40, The Great Gatsby and Spud: The Madness Continues , I am as excited now as I was when I saw my first movie.