I knew that one day my contributions to cinema would be recognized. After a decade of stiff backs, sore buttocks and increasingly arthritic fingers, the time has finally come.
Dressed in my rented tuxedo, I wait for the car to take me to the award ceremony.
The man who owns the movie industry is coming to meet me in person. I am to recognise him by his t-shirt that reads ‘Make it a Combo for only $4.99!’ and the two film reels he carries always with him. Each contains a movie that has challenged what cinema can be. Unlabelled as they are, it is unclear which contains Citizen Kane and which Madame Web.
I imagine, once all the celebrations are over, that the man who owns the movie industry will make me his successor.
The crowning achievement of a long and arduous journey.
I cut my teeth on Goodreads, producing countless book reviews that drove into the very soul of each work. I recognized themes and subtext that even the authors themselves had not.
I laid out those penetrating insights for all to see.
And what did my efforts earn me? A cursory glance, the odd comment. General disinterest. I believe it was Ringo Starr who said that the genius is never understood in their own lifetime, and how true that appeared when the charlatans at the London Review of Books garnered thousands of avid readers while I wallowed online with a few measly likes.
But through Letterboxd came my breakthrough.
I was intellectually incandescent. My reviews stood out among the litany of puerile offerings—things like “Ana de Armas is so sexy I re-lost my virginity,” “Not enough lesbians” and “Was fun, would watch again”—with a surgical precision that transcended conventional criticism.
Blazing my own trail…
I told the world that Avatar is just Fern Gully in space with blue people.
I told the world that Dune is just Lawrence of Arabia in space with blue-eyed people.
I told the world that there has only ever been one Ryan Reynolds movie; they just made it a hundred times.
Challenging the status quo…
I told the world that Sidney Sweeney is not in enough films.
I told the world that watching a Tarantino movie is like listening to a nerd gush about his favourite figurine.
I told the world that Jennifer Lopez is the ultimate actress of the working-class because she knows where she came from.
I taught the world how to watch. And now the world will know it.
Outside I hear the rustle of popcorn and the squeak of a straw being pushed through a plastic lid. There is a knock at the door. I look through the blinds and catch a glimpse of the two shining film reels under the arms of the man who owns the movie industry. In his mouth is a novelty ticket stub that reads ‘The Letterboxd Saviour of Cinema.’