There was a point in my life when I thought I was one of the few people on earth who worshipped the film Midnight Run.

Then came the internet, message boards, social media, and the expansion of journalism. That’s when I realized that Midnight Run was beloved by countless thousands of people all around the world. At least once a year now someone writes a love letter to Martin Brest’s ageless masterpiece online, and I read every single one of them because it brings me extreme joy to know that other people out there feel the same way.

When the news hit that actor Charles Grodin had passed away from bone marrow cancer yesterday, I sat back in my chair and went through all his unforgettable lines from that film in my head. I can recount every single frame of Midnight Run because for most of my childhood I would fall asleep with the TV on, usually running a VHS of Midnight Run for comfort. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen it, but I can safely say that I’ve seen parts of Midnight Run well over 1,000 times.

If you judge a film by how many times you’ve seen it, then Midnight Run is without a doubt my favorite film of all time (with Van Damme’s Bloodsport a close second, and No Country For Old Men moving into third).

I used to own a home in Las Vegas and every single time we would fly out of McCarren airport, I would say to my wife: “Serrano’s got the disks.” When I first moved to LA and went to Grand Central Market, all I could think of was Joe Pantoliano running to grab the phone at the China Cafe. More than thirty years after its release, I’m still acting out the lines. Every time my wife and I go out for breakfast and I see chorizo and eggs on the menu, my mind goes right to Charles Grodin.

if you’ve never seen Midnight Run, it’s as good a time as any to give it a screening; if for no other reason than in tribute to the life of a fantastic actor. I hope it still resonates today. For me, there’s so much nostalgia involved that I can no longer tie my feelings to the film alone; hence, Charles Grodin’s passing feels like the death of a family member to me.

It’s proof of the power that mediums like film, music, and art have over our emotions. How something so temporary to one person can be so timeless to another.

-David Driscoll