KNOW WORRIES #11 - "Lights, Camera, Whatever"

On my current movie funk

Life is like a bookstore, and I’m often just trying to find my way out of the nonfiction section. And if you’ve been alive recently, I’m sure you can relate. Reality is exhausting, and in some cases, it can even be fatal, which is why we all need a trip down a different aisle every now and then. For some people, that’s religion or self-help. For others, it’s cookbooks or travel or art. But for me, the perfect break from it all has always been life’s fiction section. And though books will always be my first love, it’s not exactly easy to work your way through one of those with buttery popcorn fingers. And I alwayshave buttery popcorn fingers. Please don’t laugh. It’s a really debilitating condition.

Thus, enter movies. Cinema. Film. Motion Pictures. The silver screen. The big fandango. Okay, that last one doesn’t sound right, but it’s doesn’t exactly sound wrong either, so I’m gonna leave it. Movies are a uniquely modern escape, and as a uniquely modern disaster person constantly in need of escape, they will always have a nice big corner office on the 70^th floor of my heart. Right next to all that butter. And across the hall from the library. Just a few doors down from the open concept cubicle space that Dolly Parton shares with Mr. Rogers and all the Muppets and also several thousand animals form the internet I’ve never met.

I love movies. Dearly. I mean, I was a latchkey kid born in the 80s and raised in the 90s, and my parents divorced when I was like six years old, so Blockbuster Video basically had partial custody of me until I turned 18. Every night was movie night in those days, and holy shit was I here for it. It didn’t even have to be a good movie back then. Just the fact that it was a movie made it special. I mean, if the FBI is gonna take the time to threaten me about it, then it has to be cool, right? Right?

Basically, I’m trying to tell you that I’ve seen every movie. All of them. Like all of them. Yes, even Howard the Duck. Yes, even From Justin to Kelly. Yes, even that weird shot-for-shot remake of Psycho they did with Vince Vaughan and Anne Heche for some reason. I actually saw that one in the theater, which should tell you everything you need to know about how low the bar for getting me to go to the movies used to be. Films have always, always, always been an irreplaceable part of my life…until now.

I don’t really know what happened, but we’ve just kind of grown apart. We’ve lost touch. We barely even send each other memes anymore, and I’m not gonna lie, it hurts. Movies and I grew up together. We hung out all the time. When I was nine, I laughed so hard watching Home Alone that I peed myself in the theater and then ‘accidentally’ spilled a coke in my lap to cover it up. In high school, I spoke in Austin Powers quotes for like a year and a half, so needless to say, I was incredibly popular. I still won’t go in the ocean because of (obviously) the little mermaid, and I once spent an entiresummer with Jurassic Park. What do I mean by that? I mean that movie came out in June, and I went to see it 12 weekends in a row until School started in September. We were best friends.

And please don’t tell anyone, but I actually had a bit of a ‘thing’ for movies for a while. When I got a little older, I even moved out to California just to be with movies. It was fun for a while, but we just couldn’t make it work. Don’t get me wrong, we were pretty good together, but in the end, we just wanted different things. For instance, I wanted to make enough money to be able to feed myself every day, and movies wanted me to be unemployed and sad. And that’s all I’m gonna say here about my time as a screenwriter. It was a thing. And now, it isn’t. And believe me, that is most definitely for the best.

So, I’m not exaggerating when I say movies have always a big part of my life. They were an escape and a passion. A salve and an off switch for so many things I understood less than film. For a long time, they were like good hot sauce at a bad diner—they just made everything a lot easier to swallow. And in doing that, they showed me some of life’s most blessed rituals. The ticket buying. The pre-show video games. Curating the perfect combination of snacks. The lights coming down and the previews coming up. Little movie secrets just for you. Just for you in the dark with your giant bucket of popcorn where nobody can see your disgusting shame, you monster.

Even renting movies was warm and fuzzy. The Blockbuster experience was absolutely magical, and I’ll be taking no further questions on that topic. Now that was browsing. It was the closest thing to actually hunting your own movies like our ancestors used to do. No online reviews. No Rotten Tomatoes score. Just a picture on the front of the box and a little blurb on the back and hope. Hope that we would learn to be kind. Hope that one day we would all remember to rewind. And there was the smell. Somewhere between a theater and a library and the carpeted part of a church basement. It was the smell of endless possibilities laced with just a whisper of trauma (that’s the church part). Looking at you, Never-ending Story. You too, My Girl. You give him his glasses right now.

So, what happened? Why does it take a complete review compendium, three personal references, five YouTube breakdowns, and an act of congress to get me to go see a movie these days? Why do I scroll through Amazon for hours and hours only to just…not pick anything? Have I changed? Have movies changed? Am I incapable of joy? Am I more machine than man now? Twisted and evil? So many questions!

It's not like the movie-going experience has gotten worse. If anything, it’s gotten way better. Sure, the video games in the lobby aren’t as good, but we have recliners in the theaters now! Not only that, but you can order cocktails and real food right from your seat in a lot of places. Last time I went to see a movie, I had a club sandwich, and you know what? It was good! And then I had a margarita, and that was pretty damn good too! And then I had two more margaritas, because we were seeing Gladiator II, and that movie made me want to drink myself to death. Say what you will about that flick, but it’s the very best way to appreciate what a great film Gladiator I was.

And I refuse to fall into the trap of thinking movies, as a medium, aren’t as good anymore, because the thought of that just rubs me the wrong way. I think it’s much better just to say that we’re both in different places now, and that’s okay. I mean, movies are movies and art is art, right? And art is always changing and always evolving, and every day, it all seems different because we’re all a day different than we used to be too. So, no. NO. I refuse to sit here and run my mouth about how this or that was better back in my day, because that’s just not constructive unless we’re talking about music. I think that’s something we can all agree on.

And it’s not like they’ve gotten more difficult to see or anything. Movies are more available than ever in better quality than ever. I mean, I can essentially watch any movie I want any time I want anywhere I want. We have unparalleled access these days. It’s basically magic. Everything is everywhere all the time now. And you know what? I think I’m having trouble adjusting to that.

There’s too much to choose from, and too much pressure to choose the right thing. My free time is so precious these days that I’m terrified of fucking it up when I do have it. So, I’ll sit there and be like, “Well I’ve already seen this one a hundred times, so it’s probably not worth watching.” And then I’ll scroll a little further until, “I haven’t seen this one yet, but it looks pretty bad, so that’s probably not worth my time either.” And then eventually it’s, “Now this looks really good, but I’m too stressed to enjoy it. Maybe I’ll just save it for later.”

And by that time, it’s too late to watch a movie at all, so I turn on a show I’ve already seen a dozen times instead, and I sit there and play on my phone. And the same thing goes for the theater. Like, I know that same movie’s gonna be available in my living room in three weeks anyway, so there’s really no rush to go anymore. I can make a pretty good club sandwich and a killer margarita too, you know. And then by the time I do try to go and see something, it’s not in theaters after a month anyway, so now I have to go find it on streaming, and now we’re scrolling riiiight back to square one. It’s a vicious cycle.

It's like I’m too afraid to gamble with my headspace—like I don’t trust anybody else with it anymore. And the thought that I’ve become that cynical makes me so so sad. I’ve become miserly with my free time. I hoard it now, and it’s somehow become worth less because of that. And you know what? That’s only made the rest of my time, when the world has its spindly little fingers wrapped around my neck, just that much more difficult to navigate. And let’s be real, the world doesn’t need any help in that arena right now. It’s got that covered.

So, I’ve decided to do the only thing I can, and be reckless with my spending. I’ve decided to reinvest in the only faith that’s ever really meant anything to me—and put my trust back in the creativity of others. Because honestly, I can’t do this alone. So, I’m off to the theater. And I don’t even know what’s playing. But I’m gonna buy a ticket for something, and then I’m gonna play a few video games, and then I’m gonna get the biggest bucket of popcorn I can afford. And maybe some Sour Patch Kids. And definitely a gigantic Diet Coke. And who knows? If it’s okay with my parents, I might even be back next week.