Notes on My Obsessive Need to Engage
Mackenzie Stolp
she/her
I never re-watch films, why should I?
Re-watching a film doesn’t grant me anything, no new knowledge or cultural engagement. This has been my mindset of late and it’s been troubling me. The hobbies I used to enjoy for relaxation and pleasure have turned into vessels of productivity; consuming media has become a task, a square box on my to-do list.
A watchlist is not an exciting possibility – it’s a time-pressured list that should be completed as soon as possible.
It might as well be a competitive sport. Dinner with two new friends turns sour as they begin to discuss a television show I have not yet watched. “You would really like it” means nothing to me, I am not here for enjoyment; I am here for inclusion. I am here for progression. I am here for knowledge, and I am here for experience. But I want to be a part of the conversation. I hate answering ‘oh no, I haven’t gotten to that yet’. The reason as to why this fills me with such shame I am still uncovering.
During lockdown there was a higher expectation to utilise time – if you’re home for 23 hours a day surely you are more productive and completing more than when you once had a job, and errands, and a new bar to check out. You have all this free time! You deserve to be guilt-ridden if you do not utilise it. Three movies in one day? That’s nothing. Who cares if your brain has been rotted from the growing COVID-anxieties and failures of our government – you must be productive. And in turn, every activity you do must be productive.
Our attention span is getting increasingly shorter. When Squid Game rose to popularity it had a, at maximum, two-week lifespan before we were no longer talking about it on Twitter, and if you watched it at any point after that everyone else was sick of it. If you do not jump onto the trend immediately you miss out completely. And for most this doesn’t matter, to be involved in every internet trend is a pointless endeavour – however it is one I force myself to attempt. Some call it FOMO, but I call it ‘I will literally self-destruct if I do not possess knowledge of every pop culture event from at least the last 10 years.’
I was a smart child. My reputation from being the top of the class in year four still follows me. I don’t consider myself particularly smart now, yet I think others still do. In year seven I won an academic award for every single subject I had, but in year 10 I did not receive a single one. I know this is common for a lot of people, and I’m sure you can relate to the crushing feeling of your worth being associated with your intelligence and having that completely diminish, leaving you worthless. I know that’s dramatic, but I am a dramatic person and what is life if not worth dramatizing.
My brain has turned films and books and entertainment into a productive task to get me on track to be the top-of-the-class girl I once was. People will think I’m smart again if I can rank all of Paul Thomas Anderson’s films! People will think I’m smart again if I read a book every single day, even if I forget the entire plot immediately after I close it! My mind has fixated on productivity being the pathway to smartness – everything I do must contribute to this fantastical goal of mine.
This was my confessional and now I vow to change. I will take pleasure in the things I once found pleasurable. I will re-watch Little Women one million times as it is my comfort film, and I am allowed to indulge in comfort rather than constantly trying new things. I will watch The Simpsons and laugh like a child instead of forcing myself to watch the new Nicole Kidman thriller-series purely for cultural capital. They used to say movies and television rot your brain, and I think I’m going to let them.