The best films give you something to take away. Not just a moral message, or some sort of transcendental teaching about the world. But a tangible thing you can find meaning in long after the credits have rolled, holding space in the corners of your mind like a cultural souvenir you’ve popped on the shelf.
For me, this usually takes the form of a song or an artist. Sometimes, it’s a place or a quote. Very occasionally, it’s an outfit. Rarely does anything give me all of the above. But Harold and Maude is special, offering a goodie bag of miscellaneous feelgood delights that instantly transport me somewhere joyful.
