It's Okay to Love Things
I love a lot of what might be considered “bad movies.” I love quoting them; I love rewatching them; I love having their crappy DVD cases on my shelves. And I know I’m not the only one.
First, a definition, as I see it:
good-bad movie /gud bad moo’-vee/ n. 1. a film that knows what it is and sticks to it; 2. a film that manages to seem bigger than its budget; 3. a film that is memorable because of both narrative and ridiculousness; 4. a movie with qualities that would generally annoy one’s significant other; 5. a movie that requires fans to use a dismissive preface before discussing with any enthusiasm (e.g., "I know it's terrible, but...").
Okay, okay. Let’s get on with it. Here are five movies from my growing list of good-bad movies:
Demolition Man: Stallone vs. Snipes in the future. This is an action movie made at the tail end of the macho-man movie trend. There’s some fun and silliness, and the general loose connection to Brave New World is a bonus. Sandra Bullock’s first big role too.
Serendipity: I’m usually not big on formula rom-coms, but I liked this one. Maybe because Kate Beckinsale’s character smiles often and John Cusack is in decent form. Cheesy film, but agreeably so.
Joe Dirt: Quotable silliness and an epic mullet, but this has underlying heart.
The Rundown: The Rock’s first go at a movie, with full support from WWE. Fun from start to finish. Bonus points for Arnold Schwarzenegger and Ernie Reyes, Jr. cameos.
Waterworld: I like this crazy pile of waterlogged movie, and I want the Mariner’s sailboat.
Perspective
Looking at that list, I think it’s worth asking: What's “good” and “bad” without perspective?
As the audience, we consume the final product of a factory line of creativity, performance, politics, and money. Movie critics and marketers work on the line, and their roles involve choosing and selling good movies. Their job involves subjective, qualitative analysis—which is inherently unmeasurable and impossible for any layman to truly quantify. (Take wine tasting, for example.) Their position on the line also gives them a stance of superiority and a chance to mold public opinion.
Consider this. One day, when you were a child, you liked something. A lot. You had a toy, a book, a movie, and you spent hours and hours with it. And then, when you shared it with people, another kid decided to take it from you. He knew you cared, and that was a form of weakness and thus exploitable. So he called your favorite thing stupid, lame, for girls, gay, or whatever. Because you felt alone, you hid your ability for affection away in shame. You learned to hide things that veered away from the norm, and learned to be ashamed of them.
All these years later, when you hang out at a bar with friends, is it easier for you to make fun of your significant other, or say you love him or her? When you talk about your job, do you talk about the good things or bad? Odds are it’s the latter. Our tendency toward negativism may stem from self-preservation: it’s difficult for someone to challenge your dislike, but easy to sweep the legs of your enthusiasm.
Some time between then and now, we gave up our childlike capacity for wonder because we didn’t want to get hurt.
Promise
Here’s my hope, and a major reason I even launched this site: I want to enjoy things and approach them with the same wonder I did when I was a child—before I felt pressure to like certain things and fall in line. I want to be excited! So I’m working to understand what I like, I’m trying to share those things, and I’m making no apologies about it. I want to feel awe, and enthusiasm, and love, as much as I can.
My aim is to improve as a writer, and I think that involves admitting the things I like, so I can make things I can be proud of. From what I can tell, as a writer and consumer, all paths forward are lined with critics and critiques. They’re directive forces, which can be good or bad depending on what my aim is. (For understanding of craft: Good. For pure enjoyment: Bad.) I try to take outside opinions in stride. I don’t want them to deter me from things I think I might like. I’m not everyone; I am me, and I must be true to myself.
“You owe reality nothing and the truth about your feelings everything.”
Plea
Protecting yourself from outside criticism kills you on the inside. Stop denying that you can enjoy things. Find something to like and dive into it. When you do, it’s important to know that sometimes you will feel alone, and that's okay. Those moments are often when you’re jumping between levels of prowess, when you’re outgrowing a past self.
Enthusiasm can feel awkward until you shake the dust off. It helps to find friends who feel the same way you do, or at least allow themselves to be excited and unabashedly affected.
Pick flowers. Sing. Write poetry. Start a band. Hike mountain trails. Invite people to bring over their favorite good-bad movies, and have some fun already..
Note: Image courtesy of Flickr user j-fin.
