FULL BLEED: HAUNTED BY NOTHING AT ALL

I’m wondering when it all became combat between audiences and artists. Kind of a grim thought to have. The king of all grim thoughts, really. Here is this thing that people are supposed to love, to enjoy, maybe pass a couple hours with when things are cold and rough outside, think about something else for just a little while. And now, well, kinda Hobbesian out there. Art isn’t something enjoy, it’s something to be dissected and subjugated, it's something to defeat and dethrone, it’s grist for a thousand content mills on YouTube and Patreon and Twitch and Substack. Want points? Take something down. Want clicks? Take a controversial side on a beloved or behated piece of franchise. But don’t dare not have an opinion a piece of culture. Don’t leave clicks on the table, someone else is gonna snap them up.

Now this for sure goes for things like politics and whatever. But I’m burned out on that entire subject. Looking outside is just too depressing and maybe telling generations of kids that they have the power at the ballot box to make real change was not a kindness after all. Let’s talk about art. And more closely, how engagement looks these days.

Granted, this a view that’s been jaundiced. Or perhaps it’s just optimism and youth gone rancid, like all things biological over time. Or even the spirit if we’re being honest.

Anyways, in the era of social media it seems that art maybe only exists to generate more social media. And once you attach personal income to that, well, that which is not forbidden becomes obligatory, dig? Now this is likely to ruffle feathers, particularly amongst folks who make their livings doing media criticism. I’m not talking, however, about media criticism by and large. Though I do sometimes wonder about the enterprise as a whole. And by that, who is this for? To make the publication look smart with those column inches? It’s not for the folks making media (though those words get used to attack or bolster – just take a look at blurbs on movies and TV shows, for as much as these things are advertised now – which isn’t much.) Is it even for the readers to make informed judgements on how to spend their time or whether or not they should take in the latest Lion King remake at the multiplex? I’m sure glad that those writers can get paid for talking about their relationship with art. Though how often does that happen?

I won’t get too deeply into the whole phenomena of movies and shows using glowing pull quotes direct from social media users and throwing those into their advertisements, because… lol. Yeah, that’s just thirsty and desperate. But hey, everyone’s there right now. So I guess it’s good to be in the company of, uh, giant multimedia studio marketing departments. Celebrities! They’re just like us!

All this of course coming from the vast and shallow sea of entertainment now. Nobody knows much about effective marketing unless they’re handling a tall dollar item, and then it’s either a magnificent success or an empty flop. Nevermind that one of the best movies of last year died out of the gate and the stuff that’s getting showing after showing is empty retread literal shot for shot remakes of movies that have existed for thirty or maybe even a hundred years (The Lion King and the upcoming Show White in this case.) So much media being produced and shoveled out there, much in the manner of, ah, software that was produced in the early DC-ROM era by the truckload only to end up in giant bins at Egghead Software or Borders or any other dead brand big box store. Yeah, shovelware. Produced faster than could even be tracked, all to be abandoned still shrinkwrapped at fire sale prices. All that effort. All that product.

Same thing now, just hyperaccelerated for your convenience. All sold on Netflix or any other streaming service (but last I heard, Netflix still holds a laughably high percentage of that market, but hey, they’re just measuring two-minute streams that show the breathless engagement of their audience. Yes, of course it’s all hot air and smoke and mirrors of self-reported numbers while they’re coasting not on subscriber numbers but stock value. How many new shows a week? How many standup specials? How few movies made before 2000? How complete the obliteration of film history?

So much stuff out there that it’s become valueless and review proof. There’s probably some juice left in writing follow-along columns for serial shows. But are those bringing in new viewers much less new subscribers? Honestly, of what value is critical appraisal and engagement in the face of this sort of content onslaught? Why even think about what you’re watching, you’re just two-screening it anyways. (I two-screen when my wife is watching Hallmark movies, which I do not under duress, but I’m not cheering the whole thing.) It’s just moving wallpaper.

Which brings us to the reaction machines on social media. The reactions themselves don’t matter so much as that they’re there. Good or bad, so long as it’s being talked about. Surely that must matter, right? That’s all free advertising. Get a couple big influencers to talk up the show and that’s even better than actual advertising (because it’s the only advertising that studios know how to do now.) So surely the discourse matters.

Well, it matters to folks whose material situation is tied to the discourse and being a trusted voice in it. Assuming these folks are on a platform that can be monetized properly. Or perhaps it’s clout that’s being sought. Maybe both. So perhaps we need to expand this consideration to ego as much as money.

Thus the need to be seen as an expert, a trusted voice.

I realize this is rich coming from a dude who posts this stuff on the internet for free and has been doing so for a very long time. But still, bear with me.

Authority is being sought. Authority and audience.

So now every new thing in a certain sphere becomes an important point of discussion. Like Kurtz and his trading company staring at a blank map, that map must be filled in. Territory must be marked and claimed. And if need, war must be waged. War over content. War over aesthetic. War over place in the canon. War. War never changes. Art isn’t a thing to be experienced but a resource to be seized and utilized. A work isn’t good or bad or even enjoyed any longer. It’s another piece of ivory to be considered, white and jellied hands tracing the creamy smoothness, teasing out not value but a price for exchange.

And the individual? Had a bad day? Well you can take a shot at someone else’s work, really a right rogering. There. You showed them. You’re better than that piece of art. You defeated it. And now its subjugated to you. You never need to think about it again. Yes, I’m guilty of this too. Why just last night I commented on how an upcoming movie looks dreary and dull and unappealing if not emblematic of Everything I’m Tired Of. You got me. I got me.

I don’t have an excuse for it. But then neither does anyone else. And maybe that’s just something that’s happening in the face of exhaustion. There’s more than you or I could watch, even if we were able to pick out just the very best of what’s being offered right now. Maybe the flippant is a grasp at psychic self-defense saying that this doesn’t matter because all of it is made to not matter now. At least by the behavior of the companies distributing all this work.

That said, Art as Thing to Triumph Over is sadly a real thing. TV shows aren’t experienced, they’re crowed at when the foreshadowing pays off. They’re reduced to a paragraph of salient plot points while jettisoning notions of nuance or aesthetic or hell even the joy of having a beautiful thing to watch. Tune in next week (or to the next installment of the franchise at the theatres – be sure to catch the after-credit stinger to have something to talk about instead of the whole-ass movie you just watched.) Face front, true believers!

Which is crazy. Should be a great time, right? More to watch than you ever possibly could? Most of it made with production values which would have made audiences in the eighties weep openly. Instead, the special has not even been made routine but something to be endured. Or worse, afraid you’ll miss the moment of and won’t be Part of the Conversation. Oh no.

It's especially weird when something big comes along in any genre because it then becomes a discourse lodestar. A high-value target. A priority action item. Everyone’s got to get their finger on it, to see if its politics or look or script or place in the genre offer up a particular avenue of attack (or for celebration, to be fair.) What can be succinctly put into a single-serving post (conveniently wrapped in plastic, not unlike a pillow mint or perhaps a Q-tip?) The most prized elephant in the herd offering up its tusks for valuation. Quick, Mr. Kurtz snaps, my biggest gun to bring down the beast in bloody spectacle.

Lately it’s been Nosferatu. Which to me was a horrifying film, beautiful and severe (but also lit with moments of strange comedy amongst all the heartbreak). It is a serious film, taking itself quite seriously. And yes, it’s a remake of a derivative work, but one that operates in the spirit of the original and not a slavish updating. I think that the film succeeded in what it was setting out to do. But then, my thoughts as to what the film was trying to do aren’t of anyone’s concern to me. They’re certainly not part of Robert Eggers’ calculation or intent or effort. (Nor should they be.)

But watching the movie be turned into a cultural football over the period of what, three weeks? Yeah, that gets old. I just wanna watch the movies, not declare war over them or turn them into personal totems of anything else. I know, the solution you suggest would be “just tune out.”

And I would counter suggest that maybe people should change the rules of engagement. I realize that’s impossible on a platform where a bumper sticker reads like a novel. Particularly if outrage is supposed to be the primary mode. So maybe look at those instead.

As for anything else important, let’s see. My kids are all back at their homes from winter break so I’m trying to see what the new normal looks like now in 2025. I’m going to be muting a whole bunch of words on Bluesky or I’m going to end up deleting it and hiding. Which sucks because that’s mostly how I stay in touch with folks. My Instagram (which sucked for actually talking with anyone) is all but done, officially deleted this week. I have a weblog, and I love to hear everyone saying “Dust off your blog! It's important!” without any indication or plan as to how to get people to read your blog when they’re only interested in stuff that gets posted to a platform they’re involved with.

I’m really trying to write actual words again. It’s terrifying. I’ll be honest. It’s hard to do six months or more of work and watch it get tossed into the ocean.

Until next time.