The Sin of Popularity

... and then that’s not even accounting for the people that will be disagreeable simply because it’s popular.  I’ve known people like that, and I’ve never understood that: that it’s like, this is the #1 movie in the world, and that is why I will not watch it.  And I’m like, seems like you just miss out on a lot of dope shit that way, but okay.

Thus sayeth B. Dave Walters, the great sage and teacher.  And, while normally I tend to agree with what B. Dave says (I’ve quoted him several times, in fact), this time I felt a little called out.  After all, I have (very puposefully!) never seen Titanic, nor Forrest Gump, nor Rocky, nor The Godfather, nor The Sound of Music ... in fact, on some random Internet survey of winners of Best Picture Oscars ranked according to how much people actually like them, I’ve only actually seen 7 of their list of 22 (and only 3 of the top 10), and if I consider which movies I’ve just never gotten around to watching, I can only generously come up with a further two.  That means that, on this list of Academy-Award-winning films that people actually enjoy (as opposed to the pretentious twaddle that usually wins), I’ve actively avoided watching 13 of them.  Honestly, to have lived this long managing to avoid seeing Titanic is becoming somewhat of an accomplishment in and of itself these days.

But it’s also instructive to look at the films on that list that I have seen: Rain Man, Braveheart, Dances with Wolves, The Silence of the Lambs ... I didn’t go see any of those films because they were popular, or because they had won awards: I saw them because they looked good, and they interested me.  Hell, I rushed to see Silence: it was one of the few films on the list that I was really excited to see.  As was the film that inspired the article: Everything Everywhere All at Once is surely an anomoly—an utterly non-pretentious, nerdy movie inspired by The Matrix, Groundhog Day, and various Japanese anime (and none of those have ever won Best Picture awards), and yet it swept the Oscars.  Of course I’ve watched it.  It’s the most “my kind of movie” in this whole post.  But several of the others make perfect sense for me: “Braveheart” and “Dances with Wolves” are both historical action films with cool sword and/or gun fighting (as is Gladiator).  I’m not sure I can explain Rain Man and Kramer vs Kramer other than to say “Dustin Hoffman,” and I will admit that I’ve only seen Casablanca beause a friend convinced me that I simply couldn’t go through life without having watched it, but, in general, the ones I’ve seen make sense, for me.

And, likewise, the ones that I haven’t seen make sense ... for me.  Let me get this straight: you want to pitch me a love story (not a fan) that’s a period piece (not a fan) in a historical context that involves zero swords or guns (not enticing) about an event that I already know quite a bit about, including how it ends?  Oh, and it’s over three hours long?  No thank you.  Why would I ever watch such a thing?  Well, you reply, because it’s one of the highest-grossing films in the world (and the first ever to reach $1 billion), it won 11 Academy Awards (tied for the record with Ben Hur and Return of the King), it won a bunch of other awards, critics loved it, it’s appeared at the top of many lists of the best movies ever, the music won Grammys, and so on and so on.  But does any of that change what it’s about?  It’s still an overwrought love story with a very predictable shipwreck that goes on for three hours ... right?  Why on earth would I watch something that is so antithetical to everything I know I enjoy in a film?  And did I mention the three-hour time investment?  I mean, for a 20 minute short, I might be willing to give it a chance, but three friggin’ hours ... why would I torture myself in that manner?  Just because it’s popular?

Because here’s the correction to what B. Dave was saying.  Speaking as one of those people who pride myself on not doing many things just because they’re popular, I have to take objection to his characterization.  The poularity is not why I won’t watch the movie (or read the book, or eat the food, or listen to the music, or whatever).  But the popularity sure ain’t gonna change my mind.  Look, I’ve already gone over my stance on Cynical Romanticism, and I covered my experience working at Burger King where I first began to understand that people, collectively, are herd animals.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t respect the opinions of any given individual, of course.  But, as Mark Twain once said, “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to reform (or pause and reflect).” I mean, if you’re watching movies that you don’t think you’re going to like just because a bunch of other people are telling you to ... isn’t that just peer pressure?  Bad for sex and drugs but okay for movies, I guess?  I’m just not seeing it.

Look, I’m not saying I’ve never been wrong about whether I’d like something or not before.  I’ve spoken before about liking John Grisham even though I typically hate lawyer stories.  When Grisham first started getting popular, I assumed I wouldn’t like it, and I was wrong.  But what I am saying is, I’ve never discovered something great by following the crowd.  I didn’t read my first Grisham novel because everyone told me to.  I read it because it was the least bad choice of novel in some beach cabin we’d rented one year, and I was bored stiff.  I may have also mentioned in passing that I dig Tom Clancy too, even though I’m not into spy novels.  So did I pick up The Hunt for Red October because it was a national bestseller, or because it got made into a high-profile film starring Sean Connery and Alec Baldwin?  Nope.  I got it because a friend—one friend—advised me that they thought I’d like it.  Not that they liked it, mind you (though of course they did), but that they thought I would.  And I respected this person enough to know that, if they thought that, they were probably right, so it was worth giving it a shot.  But, not once that I can recall, throughout my entire life, have I ever thought, “well, that sounds terrible, but the public seems to love it, so I guess I’ll love it too.” Never can I remember trying a very popular thing that I didn’t think I would like and being proven wrong.  It just has never happened.  Maybe it will one day.  Except probably not, because I doubt I’m going to suddenly start jumping on bandwagons at this age.  But I won’t say never, for sure.

What’s really funny to me is that I totally misheard what B. Dave was saying at the beginning of the quote.  When he started talking about “people that will be disagreeable simply because it’s popular,” I assumed he meant people that will be disagreeable because it’s popular to be disagreeable.  In other words, disliking something just because it’s popular to do so.  Like, how everyone knows that Nickelback is the worst band.  Except, you know, they’re not.  I’m not saying they’re amazing or anything, but, c’mon: you can’t tell me you can listen to “How You Remind Me” and not think “damn, that song kicks ass.” Ignore the cheesy video: just listen.  And I find this particular example especially intriguing, because that song was super popular.  In the US, it was #1 on the Hot 100 (which is the “main” US chart), plus #1 on the alternative, rock & metal, and mainstream rock charts (a truly dizzying bevy of contradictory genres).  It was #1 in Austria, Denmark, Ireland, and Turkey, and top five in a dozen other countries.  Wikipedia further tells us that it was “the number-one most played song on US radio of the 2000s decade” according to Nielsen, with 1.2 million spins, and Billboard ranked it #4 of the decade.  On the other hand, hating Nickelback has become an Internet meme, and Wikipedia will also tell you that Rolling Stone readers voted them the second worst band of the 90s (behind Creed), and that some music dating site’s users voted them the number one “musical turnoff.” So, if we think we’re supposed to be going along with popular opinion ... exactly which popular opinion are we supposed to be going along with?  ‘Cause I gotta tell you: if I was ever on a musical dating site, my number one turnoff would be pretentious twats who dump on bands like Nickelback and Smashmouth just because it’s popular, and anyone who puts Nickelback in the same breath as friggin’ Creed is obviously looking around at all their friends and saying “just as bad, am I right? guys? I’m right ... right?” and definitely not listening to “How You Remind Me,” which, you may recall from the beginning of this paragraph, kicks some serious fucking ass.

So I won’t watch Titanic just because everyone else in the world has, and I won’t refuse to watch a Keanu Reeves movie just because the Internet tries to convince me he’s a bad actor.  Because, sure: Parenthood and Point Break didn’t demand much of his talent, and every once in a while you hit a true stinker, like Much Ado about Nothing, but I also know that Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure is an amazingly fun watch, and The Matrix is one of the best movies of all time, and, if you really need to prove to yourself that the guy can actually act, you can go watch The Devil’s Advocate or My Own Private Idaho or River’s Edge or A Scanner Darkly.  But some people just wanna diss Keanu and Nickelback because “everyone” knows they suck.  I mean, seems like you just miss out on a lot of dope shit that way, but okay.