I’m a Movie Snob and it’s Walt Disney’s Fault
As one might expect for an oldest daughter born to a young Mormon family in the early 2000s, I grew up in a very strict household. Bedtime was early and enforced, clothes were modest and clean, and media intake was heavily censored.
In other words, I was deprived as a child.
As a result, however, a good portion of my sanitized screen time was spent reveling in the magic of G- rated Disney classics like 101 Dalmations, Snow White, and Peter Pan. On a more mellow day, it would be Fantasia. If my siblings and I were up for a good cry, Bambi was the solution. As old as I got, I never seemed to grow out of the fairy tales and princess stories that cycled through the DVD player with the regularity of the setting sun. Some people eat brownies or mac and cheese as a comfort food — I watched Disney movies as comfort movies.
Of course, a person can only watch solely G-rated movies for so long, and I quickly gained interest in other popular movies of my early teenage years. When I turned thirteen, I was so graciously permitted by my parents to watch the Harry Potter films. At that moment, a whole new world of motion pictures seemed to be unfurling before my very eyes. These weren’t just animated pictures, either. These were real people, albeit in a staged environment, that had been filmed precisely for a watching experience of my own enjoyment. My favorite books, spines well worn and pages anxiously caressed, unfolded onscreen in such a seemingly tangible way that I was immediately hooked.
At least, I was hooked until I had the misfortune of enduring Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. As soon as the credits rolled and the lights turned on, I was devastated. The film itself, and my disappointment of its contents, was especially impactful because it was the first film I can recall truly despising. I felt wronged, like the director had taken something I loved and ruined it. And the worst part was that I couldn’t even explain why. It simply didn’t feel right.
It wasn’t until this class, actually, that I truly gave myself an opportunity to consider why my opinions were the way they were. The textbook Aesthetics and Film explains the different ways a person can view a film. Specifically, the author Katherine Thomson-Jones notes the discrepancies between to main viewers: the thinking viewer and the feeling viewer. Of course, a person can be both, but there are fundamental characteristics for both. The thinking viewer analyzes and interprets a film automatically. The feeling viewer responds to the film in an empathetic way, especially relating to the main characters.
As I read over those descriptions, it became increasingly clear why I’m so particular with the films I watch. Just ask my roommates — I’m a huge fan of a nice romantic comedy or action-packed Marvel show. I love inspiring films about athletes and tear-jerkers about people diagnosed with life-threatening diseases. What I don’t like? Horror movies, for one. I’m a self-aware wimp. I also don’t enjoy movies that are, simply put, dumb. If Will Ferrell is in it and it’s not the movie Elf, count me out. So yeah, I’m a snob.
People are not just born movie snobs, however. A true movie snob is not born, but made. Ingredients for the perfect movie snob? Years of watching the same types of movies, opinionated parents and family, and a solid expectation of production quality. Add a dash of observant nature and a pinch of introspective thoughts. Bake for nineteen years at 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
You get it, right?
The movies I grew up on (the aforementioned Disney classics) have simple plots and happy endings. The protagonist often begs the empathy from the viewer with cheerful songs and reckless determination. Disney movies have been historically labelled as “feel-good movies,” but for me, the critical word in that description is ‘feel.’ I love to watch a movie that tugs my heartstrings and makes me feel something. The Conjuring and Dumb and Dumber? Those types of movies just don’t do it for me.
This self realization is quite frankly life changing for me. The textbook also notes that a key part of being able to disagree on the quality of a movie is to be able to back up your reasoning with logic. When I watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I didn’t know why I hated it except that, I imagine, it “didn’t feel right.” Looking back, I can see that my dislike came from a very astute recognition of the lack of nuance and healthy tension the book captured so well. Harry is angsty and surreptitious. The movie cuts much of what would explain Harry’s moody demeanor, leaving the audience with what a casual viewer could mistake as normal teenage tension. We can’t feel for him. We can’t relate.
As a feeling viewer, a situation like that is frustrating because we crave the charismatic characters and their seemingly daunting obstacles. We know it’s fiction. We know it’s manufactured. But our mirror neurons kick in and we find ourselves immersed in the world of wizards and spells and schoolchildren. Mess that up, and a director has a lot of disappointed viewers on their hands.
So, clearly, the way a person views a motion picture affects his or her ‘taste.’ But why is a person usually more one or the other? Why am I so averse to movies that don’t make me feel something? Why am I such a snob?
To prevent a minor existential crisis, it’s important to analyze the viewer types beyond what is in the textbook. For example, much is what is discussed is what critics might evaluate or what someone would leave on Rotten Tomatoes. But the foundation for enjoying a movie, in my opinion, is what a person wants out of it. If meaning is not found but made, as David Bordwell so eloquently states, then it is found in part because of the viewer’s motive for watching.
Why do we watch movies anyways? They’re not real. Half of the ones we see at the box office aren’t even realistic. They’re an illusion, yet we still spend millions and millions of dollars as a country to sit in a dark room where no one is allowed to talk and stare at a really big screen for two hours. What gives?
The fact is, everyone who watches television and moves has a reason for doing so. Some try to generalize these reasons, but my personal belief is that it’s different for everyone. Some people watch movies to wonder — to wonder if there might be a world where humans have magic, where animals can talk, where love always wins in the end. Some people watch movies to think — to think about the limits of technology, the vastness of space, or the loopholes of time.
I fit in quite well with the people who watch movies to feel — to feel joy at success, sadness at devastation, and anger at injustice. I like to see the emotion expressed not only in the actors’ performances but also in the way the scene is set up. I notice when a character sits in dramatic lighting, half of his face dark and half light. I know that it probably means he is about to make a decision: good or bad? Hero, or villain? I notice when the camera stays focused on something in the background for just a second too long. I know that it probably means that whatever it is plays an important role later on in the plot. So just because I’m a ‘feeling’ viewer doesn’t mean that I don’t think. It means that if I’m going to think, it better be a thought with poignant meaning.
So now it all makes sense to me. My ‘taste’ in movies is emotionally based, which explains why I didn’t like Inception (too much thinking), Interstellar (too long), and Anchorman (too stupid, and also sexist). I’m what some people [read: my roommates] might call a sensitive person. I’ve been known to flatly state that if I don’t cry during a movie, it’s not a good movie. My motive for watching a movie is to feel something.
In short, there are as many types of movie viewers as there are motives for watching said movies. Different movies serve different motives and personalities, which explains why one person can walk out of a movie theater absolutely overjoyed while the next person leaves fuming. My own taste tells a lot about who I am as a person, and hopefully, as I learn more, my taste will grow as I do. But I will always, and I mean always, love a movie with a happy ending.
And why is that?
It’s because I was raised on Disney movies.
