The Fear of “Not Getting It”
Jordan Peele’s Nope raises a fear inside me, the fear of not getting it.
This is an article made just as much as reassurance for myself as it is a message to anyone reading.
I’m fearful of not being smart enough. I think we are all, and in the film community especially, it’s easier to feel like an idiot than it is to breath. This fear became especially overwhelming after viewing Nope and having friends, family, and most intimidating of them all, the internet, clamoring at the question “what was that about?” I couldn’t help but feel insecure about my take, silently collecting my own thoughts under careful consideration until finally looking up other peoples interpretations not as a way to develop a conversation, but to see if my own thinking was “valid.” I was proud to see that I was in line with other viewers, but was doubly interested in how this film was also read in ways much different than my own. Most significantly, I felt bad that I didn’t think of the infinite possibilities as well.
Animal abuse, spectacle, exploitation, the film industry, trauma, and so many more topics are all covered during the films runtime, and somehow I managed to feel embarrassed and ashamed about not catching all of them and more. “I want to make movies” I think to myself after every film, so the next logical thought is almost always “I have to understand every movie ever made.”
But, obviously, this is a futile effort. Despite what the self appointed film scholar that knows the concrete meaning of your favorite movie on twitter says, films are subjective. While I agree that some films are better than others on an objective level in a technical and writing aspect, that should never deter a person from enjoying a film or having their own interpretation. If a viewer garners a message from Nope that resonates with them, who has the right to say they’re wrong? Who in their right mind would take away someone’s meaningful experience with art? You wouldn’t do that to someone else, so don’t do it to yourself. Allow yourself to digest a movie in whichever form that comes in and be satisfied with whatever you gleam from it. This fear of not getting it should never limit film discourse, but tragically, based off personal experiences, it seems like this could be the case.
In my freshman year of college I took a gothic literature class. It was an entry level IAH class that had 300 students and approximately 2 that participated. We utilized an online platform to post discussions and “interact” with each other. Obviously, a first year on zoom left students reading posts instead of engaging with them, if they bothered to go to the website at all. I was scrolling through the site searching for a post to comment on for our weekly discussions, and because this week we watched Parasite, I was in full gear. Eventually I stumbled upon a post that discussed the themes of the film, and for that student, the theme happened to be one of family. They went on about how the Park and Kim family paralleled each other and how the film culminates in a message about found families and the bond between close relatives. In the moment I found this absurd, how could somebody watch Parasite and not discuss the ever obvious themes of economic inequality and class relations? But in the midst of my socialist rage I paused and thought to myself, why would anyone tell another they’re not allowed to? I’m ashamed to even think that I once would’ve made someone feel bad about their personal experience with art, because at the end of the day that’s what art is: personal. Of course we can all still enjoy discourse about film and media, no matter how based in objectivity or subjectivity, but when you go home at night and lay in your bed, it’s ultimately you, your thoughts, and the film you just watched.
Despite seeing Everything, Everywhere, All At Once with groups of family or friends and my girlfriend on three different viewings, I still bawled my eyes out regardless of the company. I couldn’t help it, in those moments it felt as though the movie was speaking to me, pinpointing its thematic message directly into my heart. Significantly, it was that experience that reminded me why I love film. I enjoy a hefty letterboxd review or analytical essay as much as the next guy, but I can’t think of a better way to watch an emotional movie than by yourself on the biggest screen possible. Art is intimate, personal, and whatever you take away from said art should never be taken from you. So, if you’re afraid of not getting it just as I am, don’t worry, nobody ever really does, they’re all just recounting what they found themselves.