• Mike Burdge

2018 Hidden Gems and Dull Rocks


Anybody who has the distasteful privilege of knowing me would tell you that I kinda dig movies. Old movies. New movies. Classic movies. Underground movies. Heck, I'll even dip my toes into a pool of movies that some would consider downright unpalatable, all off the easiest of nudges, whether they be recommendations or from personal curiosity. Being forced to consider, if even only for a moment, how I operate from a day-to-day basis reveals an image of someone who I'm not even sure is me. Right, I continually build the Story Screen brand from within and without all aspects of my life, that will allow such an act to go about with meaning and (I hope) grace. I also regularly concoct immensely stressful events that put myself into highly enjoyable situations in an effort to further build said brand's standing, not just in the local community, but again I hope, in the world. I have a very disturbing view of myself: I can do anything if I really put my shoulder into it, riding on the collective wave of confidence, morality, luck, and above all, more than a few really good friends who want the same thing that I've proudly made my life's work.

Humble brag officially over, I promise.

Look, I'm just gonna get right down to it: I love movies. Duh. But, also, I'm a huge fan of story, in all its multi-media forms. (I can hear you now: "We get it! You're into story! The name is Story Screen! WE GET IT!" I apologize.) I ingest about six movies a week, consistently keep up with (and catch up on) a multitude of television shows, average reading about one book a month (when I can), and take in music whenever and wherever I get the chance. This steady diet of story intake knows no bounds, stretching to a point that isn't just alarming, but at times of self-reflection, becomes downright all consuming. The term, “entertainment omnivore” comes to mind.