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  • Words by Mr Philip Delves Broughton

There are two kinds of summer movies. The popcorn films that draw you out of the melting heat into the coolness of the multiplex in high July, with big special effects and hero's journeys. And then those films that linger with you all year long, maybe all life long, like sand in the heel of an old boat shoe. They evoke the emptiness and possibility of summer, the balmy months when everyone has time and no one has the energy or inclination to judge. When the same few songs play hypnotically on the radio and the warmth seems to turn us into looser, fuller versions of ourselves - at least until September snaps us back to attention. Summer is a time of transitions and rites of passage, the season of living between the institutional demands of schools, colleges and work. Long days without adult supervision are a ripe time for misbehaviour, whether for teenage girls at a beach club or men left alone in the city by their wives. Anything can happen. And frequently, anything does. These movies all bottle some of that languid summer magic, to be consumed long after summer is past.