The drive from the Westside of Jacksonville to Neptune Beach to see The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover because that was the closest theater showing it. To this day, I'm sure I'm the only person in my graduating high school class that's seen it.
The drive from Athens, GA to Atlanta to see the uncut, four-hour version of Branagh's Hamlet.
Practically living at the theater in the student union at the University of Georgia for the opportunity of seeing an endless stream of cult films and foreign releases: The Red Shoes, Shaft, Before Stonewall, Casablanca.
My current goal to see every Best Picture. More challenging than one would think.
Enough about me, though. Silver Screen Fiend isn't a memoir in the traditional sense, or a book of film criticism. In a way it's a story of addiction in a time Patton's career puttered steadily through comedy clubs and small entertainment jobs. Movies served as a teaching tool and a comfort zone, a way to temporarily forget an unfulfilling gig at MadTV. Patton doesn't discriminate with movies, either - he'd see anything and everything available as a way to educate himself for directing aspirations. You can guess he'd seen a lot of crap.
If you're expecting a book written along the lines of Patton's stand-up humor, don't. It is a well-written book, more intellectual than his KFC bowl or Christmas Shoes bits. It's definitely worth the read for the chapter on The Day the Clown Cried and his wish list of movies never made that should have been.