I am a discerning critic of rare, philosophical, taboo, experimental cinema, foreign and independent films. I’m not above typically popular main stream flicks but much more enjoy dogme, verite, noir, art & documentaries. For reasons that follow, I have recently taken to the practice of writing movie reviews on Netflix. Being a huge movie addict and fan, over the decades I’ve also gradually become a serious critic of movies as well. Just choosing one to watch on Netflix can be quite a difficult task though, for my discriminating tastes. Often times, I am totally dependent on good reviews by others in order to decide whether a larger investment of my time is worth it. For me, a movie can sometimes be like a really good book, in the sense that I will talk about it with many people I know, sometimes write about it, and think about it a lot. The time spent watching can be just a small beginning of a long and philosophical quest. Not only do reviews save you from crappy wastes of time, they can also lead toward more full-filling ones.
Writing a review is one way of joining a community of people who use them and find them useful. But more than that, it is in some way a means of documenting and recording your thoughts about your own life, and your experiences. Movies are both fantasy, and part of our experiences, they shape our beleifs, values, and personalities. They become part of who we are and what we represent. If you consider all of them together that you may watch in a lifetime, what would they say about you? Reviews can help you choose this part of who you are becoming, and what you represent more carefully. Learning the art and science of wine-tasting and palette training does not make wine taste less good, it enables you to more fully enjoy the good ones. In fact, when I lived in Jacksonville, Florida, I had a close friend who was quite a scholarly film critic himself. Together we set aside one day every single week to get together and watch one, sometimes pausing it in order to make a quick remark, but usually waiting until the end and then engaging in contemplative discussion or debate.
Recently, I wrote a review about a video of a stand-up comedy show I watched on Netflix. The fact that I sought out and watched such a comedy show should be one clue that I wasn’t just seeking out some pseudo-intellectual crap to brag about at cocktail parties. Nevertheless, my review prompted one of my friends who does not know me too closely, to ask “How can you enjoy humor when thinking this much about it? If it is funny I laugh. It is not I don’t.” This is of course an excellent question, and deserves some response. The observation can be made that “the life unexamined is not worth living”, but that is assuming the ‘living’ part has been engaged already. Everyone including myself is tempted at times to introspect and reflect on past experiences, including movies that we loved. But there are some instances where I have been known to find myself making “meta” level observations or mental annotations for later critique, even while watching a movie.
I’ve never really considered why it’s so pleasurable for most people to intentionally avoid cognitive effort. I’ve seen smart successful people spend significant amounts of money and time avoiding reading some small amount of material. Yet stranger still (as you point out), why would some people derive such great pleasure from cogitating about crap, in precisely the moments when others are avoiding cogitating? When I and my friend Brian Hopkins went camping and scuba diving in the Keys, we had a tough time finding a gym where we could do some weightlifting for that week, but we finally did. It was a tiny near-empty local place with no females to look at, and undoubtedly many guys would have passed on that ‘fun’ — those who are there for purely social or other reasons. Maybe it’s sort of a delayed gratification/achievement type of thing? Part of me wants to believe that there’s no conceit or shallow pride involved, but that cannot be ruled out completely and is definitely an motivation for some folks. Perhaps hedonism and sloth are not the only kinds of pleasure?
First, there are lots of times when I think I naturally do shut the CPU down in order to “experience” the moment without the ‘interference’ that cogitation can cause. There’s a great pleasure that comes from beer drinking and bar-fights, from “mano-a-mano” challenges to manhood (and infantile versions of courage) which I dearly enjoyed as a young man. In a way, that’s party why I enjoy weightlifting so much, because it’s one of the few activities that somehow forcibly shuts me down mentally, and I enter some other state of primal raw emotion. But even without the endorphins or adrenaline of “fight or flight”, I assure you that I do have a keen imagination and frequently exercised “fantasy screen”.
Imagine the difference between watching a totally ridiculous, low-brow flick, and one which pulls you in, grabs your heart, and make you (yes, and other men too) shed a tear. They probably result in different levels of involvement and immersion. There are plenty of movies custom tailored to shallow or unintelligent adults, or to children — without the modern Disney invention of double market appeal — which are probably directly analogous to long lines of people standing in line, where there’s a definite opportunity to use one’s mind or not. Some will pause and rest their tired mind, others will turn and chat about people, places, and things although a few (such as me) will talk or silently think about ideas, concepts, and principles.
Not everyone who power lifts in the gym is an ego-addict, faking enjoyment or lying about why they enjoy it. The vast majority of my thoughts are never seen or heard and I still enjoy them, analogous to the person scaling a mountain all alone. It’s probably a little more fun though, sharing them with others too, as long as I’m not ridiculed too much for it). I’m most eager to share them with those who will join me in considering them, elaborate on and extend them. But I also want family, loved ones, and friends to be aware of or know that I have them, so they understand me more, in many cases even if they don’t see eye-to-eye. You mother may not ride a ride a motorcycle or relate to it at all, but you may still be eager to show her your new bike. And therein rests the single distinguishing characteristic that separates ‘enjoyment of cogitation’ from those various handicaps which prevent one from enjoying life.
There are clinical conditions (flat affect, depression, etc.) which will generalize to all of life decreasing one’s overall enjoyment of life. There are also emotional disturbances (insecurities, fear of intimacy, etc.) which will cause some people to over-analyze literally everything, even when their own private and natural instincts are telling them to just let go, relax, and breathe a little. But in those cases, the symptoms I think are fairly evenly spread over their lives. We need not doubt though, that there are folks who would be completely content to zone out and “enjoy” movies typically spoofed or made fun of by highly intelligent people (for example, “Mystery Science Theatre 3000”). In both cases, people are attempting to find a ticklish spot where some fun can be had. There is no reason to doubt, that the sharper tool needs denser material to cut a rug. It’s those who never seem to be able to cut a rug, who may be missing out. Trust me when I say, that I am often among the first few brave souls, eager to run out and “cut a rug”. I laugh often in life, and sometimes very loud.
To the casual observer, it can be truly difficult to understand why someone would enjoy some things which we may not. If someone is dressing up as a dominatrix and whipping a man on ‘all fours’, or if we watch a grown adult prancing around on a public stage at the local theatre and singing some song we think is humiliating, we may ask, “how can THAT be fun”? Some will scoff, and some will simply presume the mystery to be a dark and impenetrable black box. Others will look closer and begin to find slight differences between those on stage.
I think that some of those on life’s stage are emotionally “damaged goods” but otherwise normal, some perhaps clinically ill in some regard, and some are just very uniquely wired AND still really healthy. In all cases, there may be a temptation for us to presume that they are ‘acting’ or ‘faking’ enjoyment of their activities. When you hear of skydivers describe their elation and joy, do you not in some small way think of the same type of people who describe the joys of some other dangerous practice, which resulted in the ‘scars’ they show off like red badges of courage? I think we all feel that skepticism. But it’s not always correct and it may be that we are just being mentally lazy, and just going out of our way to avoid the cogitation required to seek deeper understanding.
