Why amateurism matters

A commentary for the consumers

Who has a hobby these days? Who has time for one? What’s the point?

A plaguing trifecta of questions so powerful that they create a surprising common ground between all generations: students on the precipice of burnout, the 30-something customer service worker, and probably even your grandma.

I love the idea of having a hobby.

An activity for yourself with no restrictions or boundaries. Or maybe, you’re someone who can’t totally shake the need for structure and Sunday nights are just for you and your knitting needles. Cliché, but I imagine peaceful. Peaceful and perhaps quite isolating; but probably in a good way. An overwhelming amount of short-form content that we scroll past preaches this idea incessantly: that it’s good to take a rest, take some time and take care of yourself. In fact, I watched a TikTok the other day that really drove home just how important it was to trust your “intuition” and your feelings and “if you need to have a day to yourself, have a day to yourself!” So I listened to the woman in the TikTok trusted my feelings and had a day to myself.

As this day to myself began, I realised that I really only wanted to do one of three things: continue to watch a deeply-moving limited series on Apple TV, watch thirty to sixty seconds-long short clips across several platforms in bed, or watch a comfort YouTube video I’d probably seen too many times before to count.

All I wanted to do, when presented with the opportunity to do nothing at all, was watch. I didn’t want to make anything or read anything or even sleep. I only wanted to watch something.

Now, I’m not the right person to harp on about screen-time epidemics or viewing habits and the like; purely because mine are awful and will probably never not be awful, but I think I could be the right person to comment on our fascination with watching. With consuming, with absorbing, with letting-it-play-in-the-background-while-I-scroll-ing. I know a few people who’d shake their head and tut - perhaps even gasp - at the idea of me calling my consumption habit a hobby.

But I think it can be. If a hobby really is an activity that I do on my own terms - whenever I want and only for myself - then yes, my hobby is media consumption. A hobby we are all bound by: I’m sure there are embarassingly large similarities in our post-work habits will prove that effortlessly. But I also think that like most hobbies, there’s this unspoken notion that some of us are better at it than others.

If you frequent the world of film and film commentary, you may well be familiar with the names of Karsten Runquist, 24 Frames of Nick or Cinema Joe. If you’re still rolling your eyes at YouTube commentators (each to their own) or are a boomer little bit older, names like Roger Ebert or Peter Bradshaw might ring a louder bell. Widely varying in the stylistics of their reviews with an equally wide range of ages in their viewerships and readerships, most would agree that they know what they’re talking about. They’ve got a niche. They’re well-read (or well-watched). They’re professionals! But does that mean their opinions are better? Are they right?

When you’re looking aimlessly in the Facebook-synced comments of a Metro.co.uk post about Madame Web and the less-favoured Marvel films and you despair at look on at the echo-chamber of comments mirroring the beration of the click-bait intentioned writer, it feels right to also find a distaste for the film in question. This writer hates it, so I should hate it too.

The intrinsic quest for consensus truly disrupts the organic experience of not just movie-watching, but of forming an opinion. Those behind the endless curation of top-ten-esque articles are slowly encouraging any initial simple, child-like wonder or even nuanced critiques of media, to morph into an bucketload of social media comments of (unfortunately) low-to-middling quality. Sometimes, we just want to comment “mid acting 💀” on an Instagram reel just because someone else did. Thanks to fast-paced reaction culture catalysed by the tsunami of TikTok stitches, a sea of people start to share the same opinions and hear the same commentary, echoed with little to no consideration for the original piece of media.

In our mostly online world where media consumption reigns supreme, it’s rather odd to see the echo-chambers form in real time and to notice how poorly media is often received. It seems my favourite hobby is overwhelmingly doomed: over-consumption is ruining us, our opinions and our unique style of expression. We’re watching too much and aren’t saying enough. Media is made for us - the viewers - and simply put, we should say what we want about it: not feel bullied into hating a TV show because User873791875 thinks it “went woke”.

Given the state of digital culture, surely being a film critic or more vaguely, entertainment writer, sounds like the ideal job. Waving your opinion around, attracting the attention of those who haven’t yet made their own opinion and imposing your opinion on them. One of the most harrowing outcomes of media over-consumption is inadvertently achieved: artificial opining. We watch so much that we don’t really care and sure, we’ll go along with what the Rotten Tomatoes score says.

Once again, as a hobbyist intrigued by the mission of rectifying the act of media consumption, this dilemma truly worries me. Some of the best media is made in response to the criticisms of its audiences: how can we contribute to the progressive quality of what we watch if we’re all saying the same thing about it? Of course, the irresistible rise of Letterboxd has helped bring online discourse out of the trenches; of which I am an avid user. But even then, we are drawn to add to the swarm of similar reviews. We’re still very influenced by the power of consensus.

Thus, I propose a solution.

No more pining to be the “most right” about a film just because you saw every iteration of its origin media prior to your reviewing. No more worrying that you don’t know enough about the quality of the acting because this is the first time you saw this actor act.

Instead, embrace the importance of your role as a viewer. As one, independent, unique individual who will have their own opinion. To bring it full circle, even Dakota Johnson herself - despite being ripped to shreds by the slanderous groupthink - said “audiences are extremely smart, and executives have started to believe that they’re not.” As an audience member, I’ll take that a step further, Dakota: we either seem to believe we know it all and deserve a place in some Auteur Hall of Fame, or we are resigned and dismissive, swatting away Poor Things with an apathetic “I wouldn’t get it” mentality. Media is for everyone, to either learn from, to criticise, to nod with in agreement, or to shake your head at in dissatisfaction.

Maybe you hated Dune 2, but you had to say you were blown away by Austin Butler on your Instagram story. Maybe you do think Fight Club is a classic, but it’s a bit too overplayed to say that now. Perhaps you don’t think it’s unbelievable that Christopher Nolan only just got an Oscar and maybe you thought Barbie was the worst thing you ever saw but you’re still a feminist, don’t worry!

There is such a hefty expectation lingering in between the Twitter/X stan accounts, the subreddits and the film reviews of the Observer: the expectation that your opinion on media will be right. That you will have reasons and evidence and a whole lot of support for what you want to say. But at the end of the day, you’re not a seasoned producer on a Hollywood committee board. You bought a cinema ticket and you watched a film and…you don’t like it as much as everyone else seems to. That’s fine. You streamed a classic and you thought it was overhyped - great, tell us why.

At the end of the day, media is made for you.

Media is made for me.

And I don’t know about you, but me?

I am not an expert. I am simply an amateur.

In this not-very-fast-paced pursuit of amateurism, I hope you’ll join me in sharing what you think. While I enjoy embracing my role as a viewer, exploring my hobby and understanding the way I think by expressing how media makes me feel, I’d love to hear agreements and disagreements, with or without justification, in the hope of exploring new and alternative interpretations of the content that I watch.

In the meantime, thanks for the support and happy viewing.