Underneath my yellow skin

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Leaning into being weird

I hate movies. I always have, but it’s taken me some time to be comfortable saying it out loud. Twenty years ago when I was getting my masters, I mentioned to the substitute teacher that I did not like movies. She looked at me as if I were an alien and said, “That’s like saying you don’t like sandwiches!”

Which didn’t sound strange to me, either, to be honest. Her point was that there were so many different kinds of sandwiches, anyone could find something they liked. I didn’t have the wherewithal to say it at the time, but now, I would retaort that if you didn’t like one of the crucial ingredients, say, bread, then you’re not going to like sandwiches. In my case, I’m allergic/sensitive to wheat, so sandwiches had been difficult for roughly a decade. Now, with so many good substitutes, I can enjoy them again. But if I had remained allergic to all kinds of breading, then it would make sense if I didn’t eat sandwiches. As it is, I love, love, LOVE dumplings, but it’s hard for me to find dumplings that are GF.

I need reality in my movies. I need people to act the way they would in real life unless it’s a musical–then I don’t care. I know some people watch movies to escape, but I get way too distracted by how people would NOT do that in real life.

I know people might say, “Just turn your brain off and enjoy.” I can’t. Knowing how people act is something deep in my bones. It’s not even a matter of them acting in an inconsistent manner because that’s human nature. It’s more somethnig an ex called the ‘moving my face to hit your fist’ syndrome. It’s when the director has an end result in mind and then manipulate everything to meet the ending they envisioned. They become too wedded to it and force the characters to do things they normally wouldn’t to get to that result.

Then, my brain gets stuck on, “Marge is always late. She would not have ‘just happened’ to show up on time.” ” “Blade has obesssive tendencies. He would not just leave like that.” And such. I think it’s easier in books to explore the psyche of the characters, obviously, because you can write about it for pages. Whereas in a movie, you have to do it in snapshots. Which, it can be done! I’m not saying that there aren’t good movies. Of course there are. But I don’t like the format, and I don’t feel the need to keep trying.

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