The question asks, “If you could erase one movie from your memory and watch it again for the first time, which one would it be?”

That is a dangerous way to phrase it.

If you ask me which movie I wish I could erase from my memory, I have a list ready to go, and most of them are not movies I want to experience again.

Let’s start with Howard the Duck.

I’m pretty sure George Lucas wishes he could forget that one, too.

Then there is every Jaws movie after the first one. Every Smokey and the Bandit movie after the first one. Cannonball Run II.

And then there is Jack and Jill.

To be fair, I never actually saw Jack and Jill, but my daughter did (even after I told her it was univerally hated). She described it to me. That was enough to make me want to remove my own head. What sins did Al Pacino commit that forced him to appear in such a monstrosity?

So yes, the question could have been worded better. It could have simply asked, “Which movie do you wish you could experience again for the first time?”

That gets us where we need to go without making me think about duck costumes, shark sequels, Burt Reynolds cash grabs and Adam Sandler in a dress.

Once I got past the wording, though, I understood the intent. The question is not really asking which movie I would like to forget. It is asking which movie I wish I could discover again.

That is harder.

My first thought is that it should probably be a movie I saw in a theater. There are movies I first watched on television as a kid that I would love to experience fresh as an adult. It’s a Wonderful Life comes to mind immediately. I love that movie. I have loved it for years. But I do wonder what it would be like to sit down now, with no memory of George Bailey, Bedford Falls, Mr. Potter, Clarence or Zuzu’s petals, and discover it from the beginning.

But some movies would be impossible to re-see properly.

Take Star Wars.

To watch Star Wars again for the first time, I would have to unsee everything that came after it. I would have to forget Darth Vader’s identity, Luke’s family tree, Yoda, the prequels, the sequels, the cartoons, the toys, the arguments, the memes and the fact that half the civilized world now has strong opinions about trade routes, midichlorians and whether Han shot first.

That is too much mental housekeeping.

So the movie would need to be something that stands mostly on its own. Something that did not grow into a universe I would also have to wipe from my brain.

And for me, that movie is Arthur. The original Arthur, with Dudley Moore.

I know that may not be the obvious answer. I’m not saying it is the greatest movie ever made. I’m not even saying everyone would put it on a list of the greatest comedies, though I think they should.

But Arthur has had a soft place in my heart for decades.

I first saw it when I was a teenager. My dad was good friends with a couple who owned the movie theater near our house, and every now and then, he would come home from work and say he wanted to take me to see a movie.

Dad and I were not especially close, but those trips to the theater are special memories.

Maybe that’s part of why they stand out.

There was no big speech. No grand father-son moment. No dramatic attempt to bridge every distance between us. Just a movie theater, a bucket of popcorn, a couple of hours in the dark and something we could enjoy at the same time.

And the best movie we saw together was Arthur.

From the moment “Arthur’s Theme” started playing and the Orion logo circled on the screen, I was hooked. Then Dudley Moore appeared as the lovable drunk, the jokes started flying, and somewhere along the way it became my all-time favorite movie.

Not the best movie. My favorite movie.

There is a difference.

The best movie is the one you defend with arguments about writing, direction, acting, cinematography and cultural importance.

Your favorite movie is the one that sneaks past all that and claims a room in your heart. That is what Arthur did for me.

I can practically quote the entire thing now. I know the jokes before they arrive. I know the rhythms. I know the faces. I know when the laugh is coming, and I still laugh anyway.

That is the gift of a great comedy. But it is also why I can never really experience it for the first time again.

I cannot unknow the lines. I cannot rediscover Dudley Moore’s timing. I cannot be surprised by how perfectly John Gielgud steals every scene as Hobson. I cannot go back to being that teenager sitting in the theater beside my dad, not yet knowing that this movie was going to stay with me for the rest of my life.

And maybe that is what the question is really asking.

It is not just, “What movie would you like to erase?” It is, “What moment would you like to recover?” For me, the answer is Arthur.

I would love to go back and hear that song begin again. I would love to see the Orion logo circle the screen again. I would love to watch Dudley Moore stumble into view again before I knew every joke by heart.

But more than anything, I would love to sit in that theater with my dad again and discover it together.

Just once more.