If anything, since its inception, cinema has been an art of apparitions. There’s a ghostly quality to the medium, no pun intended.
As celluloid flickers through a projector, images cast themselves upon a screen, showing actors and people trapped in a moment of time, depicting what has once and never been.
In many respects, that sense of hauntedness, of time lost and now regained, of phantoms of actors dead but returned to life onscreen, is the spirit of the art form.
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