A Case For Curation
I’ve been here before.
Staring at my T.V. screen that boasts hundreds if not thousands of options, I am stuck. Many movies available here may be good enough to satisfy two precious hours of my time. But I’m looking for something better than good. Don’t let the pjs and ice cream fool you, this is destined to be a cinematic experience. Tonight’s movie must thrill and delight me. And so, I continue to click past dozens of potentials in search of the one.
When it comes to movie selections, I am working with a few limitations.
One, I missed out on the cinematic goldmine of the nineties and early aughts. Despite being alive and of prime movie-going age, my religiously sheltered upbringing meant most films worthwhile were forbidden. How could I forget the recently unwrapped Goonies VHS from grandma getting ejected and banished before the 5-minute mark? Chunk’s, “Ah, shit!” was unacceptable. At age 10, my idea of a good movie was Rigoletto. You could say I was culturally deprived.
Two, I do not keep up with new releases or breakout celebrities. It’s too much work! The market is saturated with flashy franchises and rising stars. I assume they will eventually fade away or become unavoidable without any help from me.
Three, I’m a snob. The list of what I do not want to watch (no documentaries, no biopics, nothing hyped up, nothing scary, limited violence against women, not cheesy, nothing with Katherine Heigl, not over two hours, doesn’t have the line, “what are we gonna do?”, etc.) exceeds the list of what I do want to watch (witty and well acted.) Though I do not know without watching them which of these movie options would not meet my standards, on my couch in my home with my happiness on the line, I am comfortable making assumptions.
My desire to culturally catch up is at war with my, let’s call them preferences. I tackled the top ten lists in college (like Top 10 80’s Movies, Top 10 Rom-Coms, or Top 10 Movies To Watch On a Rainy Day With Amazing Soundtracks) so we’re talking level two here. I need something that will add to my general cinematic knowledge (past and present), is currently available on one of my many streaming services, and that I will like. Why is this so difficult?
The algorithm, bless his heart, tries his best. But nuance is not his thing. He can’t tell the difference between Before Sunrise and How Do You Know. This does not garner my confidence. He gets an E for effort.
Some of the algorithm’s cousins, Instagram personalities, may be dedicated to this. In line with limitation number two listed above, I have no clue who they are. If I filtered through the hundreds of them to find the handful I may benefit from, I would suspect their recommendations were sponsored by someone. How could I trust them? They get a C for corruption.
Though they can be controversial and conflicting, a good ol’ fashion movie critic may be what I am looking for. (I found more entertainment reading bad reviews of The Idol than I suspect I would get from watching it.) I imagine someone like my grandpa. An old, grumpy man - cigarette in one hand, glass of whisky in the other - who’s not afraid to say, “That movie was shit!” Our tastes may vary slightly, but at least he’s authentic. I can’t put all my eggs in this basket though. Many critics, grandpa included, rejected Star Wars when it came out. It’s hard to recover from that. They get a B for bravery.
What, I ask myself, would merit an A? I imagine a museum curator, but for movies. A person with unequivocal taste that mines through thousands of artists, finding gems to grace the gallery walls. Or in this case, my screen. She can appreciate the genius of a classic but also gives space to today’s underground filmmakers. Her monthly selections span across genre and era and include recommendations for those nights where I just want to mentally check out and laugh or cry, depending. With each movie suggestion, she would include notes on where to stream it and what makes the movie special.
Does she exist? If so, please tell me. I am tired of being stuck.
Click after click, tonight’s options continue to underwhelm me. In this moment of indecision, I liken myself to Sylvia Plath’s Esther - I am a kindred iteration of the modern woman who is overwhelmed with the paradox of choice. She is choosing between career paths. I am choosing between a movie where John Cusack absorbs records and women or one where he snipes down hikers who discovered his stash in the woods.