Yesterday, I made some confessions that I don’t consider particularly guilty, but I probably wouldn’t go on and on about them in polite company. Today, I want to talk about movies and television because I’m in a confessing mood.
When I was doing my MA in Writing & Consciousness in San Francisco over two decades ago, there was a substitute for a class. She was a fairly prominent writer in San Francisco and I happened to mention that I didn’t like movies. I didn’t think it was that weird a statement, but she acted as if I had just said I ate babies for breakfast.
“That’s silly!” She said. “That would be like saying you don’t like sandwiches. There are so many different kinds, there has to be something you like.” I let it dropped because she was so shocked, but privately, I was thinking that not liking sandwiches seemed reasonable to me as well. Personally, I love them, but I can see why two pieces of bread with meat, veg, and condiments in between may not be your thing. And if you don’t like that format, you’re not going to like any sandwich, regardless of individual ingredients. Or if you don’t like bread in general, say. then sandwiches don’t make sense for you.
The tone of her voice made it clear to me that I was a big, fat weirdo (again), and I quickly learned to keep my mouth shut about movies. I mean, I should have learned that lesson already considering I dated a guy who dumped me because of my opinion on Pulp Fiction. It was his favorite movie, and he wanted me to watch it with him (this was several years after it came out). I agreed, even though it did not seem like my kind of movie. He did warn me about some the rape scene so I could step out when it happened, which I did appreciate.
After the movie was over, he asked what I thought of it. Naively. I gave him an answer which was pretty complicated, intense, and about fifteen minutes long. I hated it. I thought it was pretentious and masturbatory and very self-congratulatory. I also thought it was coming from a very privileged white male point of view, which, of course, Tarantino is. I thought the violence was gratuitous and even though it’s supposed to be, it’s not well done.
I tried to be diplomatic about it, but I had nothing good to say. I truly hatted everything about it, and I never would have gone to see it if it weren’t for him. He was quiet for a few seconds and then said, “I can’t be with someone with those views” and broke up with me.
We tried to remain friends, but honestly, the fantastic sex was pretty much all we had. We were so different in our viewpoints, it became obvious after he dumped me. We went to see Dangerous Beauty about a Venetian courtesan who led a revolution or some such tripe. One of her customers was someone she truly loved and he truly loved her, but could not be with her because he was an important man. My ex was gushing about how they had the perfect relationship and it was such a great love story, and I couldn’t help myself. I said, “Of course it’s perfect because she’s paid to be witty and engaging. She doesn’t have to pick up his stinky socks or clean the toilet. He bought the perfect girlfriend.”
Needless to say, my ex was not pleased with that, but I was not pleased with his sexist bullshit, either. The third example is that he made me go see Titanic with him. This was after we broke up (but were still probably having sex. I was young and stupid then). Now. I went into this one knowing I would hate it. I warned him about it, but he insisted I would love it. The other two, I had an open mind going in, but I knew I would absolutely loathe this one.
I was right. I hated it. Not even Kate Winslet’s perfect breasts could save the movie for me. By hour two of people running around, shrieking in horror, I wanted to stand up and yell for the ship to sink already, goddamn it! At the end when they’re shivering on the piece of wood and she says she’ll never let him go before letting go, I actually burst into laughter.
Then, later on, another guy I was dating wanted me to go see The Matrix with him. I demurred because I was scarred by my previous experience with my ex. He promised that he would not hold it against me if I didn’t like the movie. I was skeptical, but I went, anyway. I was taking Taiji from a different teacher at the time (a slimeball who messed around with his students and didn’t pay taxes, but that’s another story) who raved about how The Matrix embodied Taiji and living life on your own terms. How it was so fresh and real.
Watching it with my at-the-time boyfriend, I had a few thoughts. One was, “Damn, Carrie-Anne Moss is fine.” Two was, “Damn, Keanu is hot, but cannot act.” Three was, “Damn, Laurence Fishburne is sexy!” You can see where my mind was as I was watching the movie.
But, fresh and unique? Breaking free from society is not that. When Trinity kisses Neo to bring him back to life, I stood up and said, “This is such bullshit!” My then-boyfriend tugged at my arm and pulled me back down. I shut up, but I as highly indignant that in a movie that was touting how you need to break out of the matrix resorted to the tritest of tropes to bring the hero back to life.
I want to stress once again that I want to like movies. I can see why they are a great medium, but I…just don’t like them. When asked my favorite movies, I say Japanese Story, Once, and Station Agent. One is an Australian movie with the inimitable Toni Colette, one is a Irish musical, and one is an American indie movie about three people who can’t fit into normal society. They’re all independent and slice-of-life movies that didn’t get that much attention. Once is not exactly the same because it did garner attention, but mostly when it was adapted into a Broadway musical.
A few months before my medical crisis, my brother and I were talking about movies. I don’t know why, but we were. I said something about not liking movies that weren’t realistic (unless they were musicals), and he laughed. He said, “Of course you don’t like movies. Because you’re able to read people so well, you can’t deal with it when they don’t act the way they should.” He didn’t say it in quite those words, but it’s what he meant. And as silly as it sounds, I never thought of it until he said that. He’s right, though. It’s really hard on me when people don’t act as they should. I don’t even mean when they act irrationally because I can get that if I’m given enough context. But because movies are artificial constructs, it’s really hard for me if the director doesn’t demonstrate sound logic for making his actors do what they do. Because there is so much ‘move your face to hit my fist’ in movies, it doesn’t hit me right.
My last example is Knives Out. I had high hopes that it would be like an Poirot farce with madcap famous cast members energy. I wanted an intelligent murder mystery that I really had to think about. Instead, I got the madcap famous cast members part, but not the rest. It was too quick-cut for me, and the writing was atrocious. I couldn’t get if Daniel Craig was supposed to be smart or stupid, and his accent was…special. And I don’t mean that in a good way. Plus, the director crammed in an immigrant theme in the most heavy-handed way.
And, I knew who had done it the minute I was introduced to the suspect. I thought, “It can’t be _____. That would be too obvious.” Sadly, it was. And the obvious clues were exactly what they seemed to be. Fair point that I’ve read hundreds if not thousands of mystery novels and am really good at picking out the culprit. Still. I expected way more from the movie than I got. In fact, I live-tweeted the second half of it because I hated it so much. The only good thing about it was the glorious scene-chewing by the famous cast members, and I loved it. Jamie Lee Curtis is fucking baller as hell, and I would watch a whole movie of her ranting and raving.
That’s the last movie I watched and when I officially gave up on movies. Not to say I will never watch another one, but it would have to be pretty damn special.