I'm a Titanic fan: fuck people who judge your tastes

Megalopolis, Joker: Folie à Deux and Emmanuelle are all good films

Toxic masculinity and growing up in Australia

I aspire to be in touch with my own opinions in life.

I’ve made a lifelong practice of this since I grew up in a narrow-minded, socially conservative environment — the kind of setting where it was normal for authority figures to impose their value judgements onto others.

Defending my own tastes was a crucial struggle for me in order to maintain my individuality.

I couldn’t always defend my tastes to others. Australian toxic masculinity made taboos of the things I enjoyed, like Nintendo games, The Sound of Music, and Marilyn Manson. These were all things that made the culture fear that a "good" white male like me could become gay, artistic, or rebellious.

Growing up as a boy in Australia, I was supposed to love rugby. I absolutely hated it.

Even cannabis was looked down upon by my peers — rugby jocks who thought smoking weed was for hippies. Hippies were bad, apparently, because they didn’t contribute to the economy as much as wealthy families like theirs, who cheat taxes and hoard wealth for themselves.

Imagine what growing up in an environment felt like for a person like me. When I was young, I couldn’t defend my tastes to others, so I did my best to defend them to myself: by being my own person, with my own mind.

I am glad I made this decision early on in my life because the kind of Australian machismo I was expected to live up to is not a recipe for life happiness.

But it was hard. The social pressure to conform in Australia was absolute, and I had internalised a fair share of it. It took me until my early teens to deprogram out of it out of myself that I was able to "came out" as someone who wouldn’t go along with crowd opinions just to avoid being called a faggot.

From the James Cameron concept art exhibition at La Cinématheque Française

Homophobia was ubiquitous in the environment I grew up in. I was often on the receiving end of it, despite being straight, because I was never interested in pretending to be the hyper-masculine Australian male stereotype.

So, when I saw Titanic (1997) in the cinema, at 11 years old, I was comfortable to cry. I was also happy to be the only guy I knew who could to admit that I liked Titanic not just for Kate Winslet’s breasts or the guy who falls onto the propeller, but for the real substance of the film: its touching melodrama and haunting score.

And almost 30 years later nothing has changed. Titanic remains a great film, and I sometimes cry watching it. If you want to make fun of me for liking it, go ahead. Plenty of people have. You’ll be in the company of homophobic Australian teenagers from the 1990s. Would you also like to tell me an off-colour racist joke?

The only bad thing about Titanic (1997) is this stupid character.

If I come across as prickly here, it’s because — when I started defending my tastes to others — a touch of militancy went a long way against people who tried to frame you in some misogynistic paradigm as weak. Seeing them have their arses handed to them by an outraged Titanic fan (me) was a sweet pleasure.

What I learned about protecting my own tastes

Since I rarely received validation for my individuality, I developed a whole set of behaviours designed to cultivate my own tastes — and to block out the negatory influences of others.

French cinema: proudly weird

As a cinema-lover, I go into films as blind as possible — no synopses, no trailers, and certainly no reviews.

The larger the lack of prior context, the more there is to discover. I don’t even like to know what genre a film is supposed to be, since a well-made film will create suspense even in the first moments — provided you don’t already know in advance what it’s doing.

After watching a film, I wait before seeing what others have thought of it. It’s important to have time to digest a film. Sometimes this takes a few minutes, other times several days.

If it’s a film that has stuck with me and I feel confident in my own opinion of it, I enjoy finding out what others have thought. I ask people I know: friends, colleagues, neighbours, students, and clients.

Orchard Road Singapore: have many good memories from the IMAX at Shaw Lido (just behind where I took this photo)

I’m interested in their responses and don’t judge them for having a different view from mine. Since I’m privileged to know people from all backgrounds — including those in cinema and cinema-adjacent industries — it’s eye-opening to see the variety of experiences viewers can have.

It’s especially interesting to do this in France, where people are capable of making the distinction between “that suited my tastes” and “that was (not) well-made.” Being able to speak on both points allows for nuanced opinions.

I also like to read discussions in film communities online. The "official discussion" threads on r/movies are always a useful barometer of general sentiment among a normative demographic.

I rarely read film reviews. Film criticism in the English-speaking world has become about sweeping judgements of value. Films are reviewed as products, and I find that gross. The idea that a score can be given to a film based on its objective value makes me feel physically uneasy. (As I typed that sentence, my gut, literally, felt unsettled.)

Killer Mike at La Maroquinerie, Aug 2024. “Instead of listening to what some Youtube critic has to say about music, you find that album and listen to it and decide for your motherfucking-self.”

Anyway, this is all a long way of introducing some thoughts I wanted to share on three films I’ve seen recently:

Emmanuelle

I was captivated from start to finish. There are many sex scenes, and all of them are uncomfortable to watch (to varying degrees). This is not really a film about female sexual liberation; it’s about a woman with a very complicated relationship to her own sexuality. She would like to take pleasure from sex, but rarely does.

It was a joy to see how Hong Kong, one of my favourite cities in the world, was captured by the beautiful cinematography.

Emmanuelle’s behaviours have the form of pleasure, but rarely the substance — a paradigm echoed in the way the film’s sumptuous location (a five-star hotel in Hong Kong) is presented: glorious, yet empty and foreign at the same time.

“Tolerated but not allowed” is a recurring motif in the film, and it perfectly encapsulates Emmanuelle’s attitude towards intimacy. The most comfortable sex scenes in the movie are the ones in which she is alone with herself.

The emotional impact of the film rests on the excellent performances of its actors, with Noémie Merlant’s portrayal leaving a lasting impression. In every scene, there are layers of psychodrama playing out on Emmanuelle’s face.

If I can’t make it to the cinema, this is how I watch at home

The film’s ambiguous presentation leaves much for the viewer to interpret. Emmanuelle is a film that is content to raise more questions than it answers. Considering how seldom women’s sexuality is explored on screen, it’s refreshing to see a film that invites viewers to reflect on the interior erotic life of a female character.

Joker: Folie à Deux

This is another captivating watch. It’s an intense character drama that delves into childhood trauma, obsession, and cruelty. The plot follows a love story whose trajectory is shaped by the internal damage of its characters.

The characters are deeply written, and their portrayals by Joaquin Phoenix and Lady Gaga are nuanced. It’s painful and heartbreaking to watch. The drama is far more intense than in its predecessor, Joker (2019). Joaquin Phoenix’s performance being rightly acclaimed, however, Lady Gaga brings a psycho girlfriend energy that electrifies the drama. The chemistry between the two leads is palpable.

The film’s musical numbers are essential to its storytelling. The songs communicate the damaged interior lives of the characters, revealing insights that these characters would be incapable of expressing through dialogue. They also provide a welcome change in tone from what is otherwise an extremely bleak story.

And yes, the singing is rough. This was an intentional creative choice (see video below), and it works well. The paradox of Arthur Fleck’s character is his child-like sensitivity, and his tenderness comes through in an immediate and raw fashion.

The musical numbers aren’t meant to be glamorous — they’re meant to be touching.

This is Todd Phillips’ vision of Joker, and it’s a pleasure to see a major commercial Hollywood film pull off such bold creative choices.

In terms of artistic craft, Joker: Folie à Deux is extremely well-made. It has a beautiful cinematic language. The sound design is excellent, with the mixing making particularly good use surround-sound channels to create an agoraphobic ambiance. My only reservation about the film’s technical merits is that it could’ve been edited to a tighter pace, but I can appreciate the extra time that was allowed for the actor’s performances to breathe.

I can understand why most viewers aren’t responding well to this film. Enjoying Joker: Folie à Deux requires viewers to be comfortable with rather specific criteria.

You need to be comfortable with having musical numbers in the first place. You need to be comfortable with their unpolished presentation. And you need to be comfortable with the tonal clash that comes with their appearance.

I’m a fan of Bollywood cinema, so nothing felt out of place here.

Megalopolis

At the same time that Joker: Folie à Deux is in cinemas, what a treat it is to have another bold cinematic vision brought to life with a top-tier production.

Megalopolis has a chaotic insanity to it that is part of its artistic concept.

One aspect of this concept comes from portraying modern-day New York with the trappings of the Roman Empire in its most decadent days.

This allows the film to present some interesting social commentary on wealth and excess. The vulgarity of the super-rich is well parodied throughout, particularly in the character played by Jon Voight and his dysfunctional children.

Jon Voight’s character is almost as crazy as he is in real life.

Another theme explored through this element of the film’s story is the role of government in civil life. What if the institutions of American government were as fragile and corruptible as those of the Roman Empire?

What if a single person could sweep into power over all branches of government and the military, as Julius Caesar did?

Reflecting on questions like this offers a useful perspective on our contemporary struggles with political corruption. What’s going on in the modern world is unacceptable, but we’ve come a long way as humans, and it’s nice to be reminded of that.

The other conceptual thread of Megalopolis is a sci-fi storyline in which Adam Driver’s character is central. He plays a genius inventor who has developed a technology that could potentially save humanity from its own problems.

Paris: you can see John Waters in cinema. The man, I mean.

The problem he faces is that he needs the support of establishment political figures to bring this technology to the world. These powerful interests oppose him, either because they are more concerned with maintaining their own power or because of the personal grudges that are part and parcel of the nepotistic society of "New Rome."

Does this sound like interesting material for a plot to you?

I think it is, and better still, Megalopolis delivers a thoughtful exploration of its premise. The sci-fi storyline brings an emotional core to the film that keeps it moving towards an engaging pay-off.

And the film is very funny, too. It’s a farce, and doesn’t shy away from embracing the camp. No spoilers here, but I just have to say: the costumes of Shia LeBoeuf’s character.

Aesthetically, the film’s visual language has a plasticky, artificial quality to it — think bad CGI. I’m not sure whether this was intentional, but I’m quite happy with the results. Bad cartoonish aesthetics are a good fit for the world of this film.

I have talked to many people about this film. Most of them hated it. However, the people I know who work in cinema and cinema-adjacent jobs have all been very complimentary.

Megalopolis has been received as a catastrophe, but I am certain it will be reappraised in future years.

Conclusion: be proud of your tastes and kind to others

So voilà, my thoughts on some films that I feel are underappreciated.

I offer these reflections not to tell you how you should feel about these films. Whatever you felt, I respect that, and I’d be interested to hear your thoughts in the comments.

I wanted to share my reflections because I dislike how judgemental we (collectively) can be towards films that fall afoul of mainstream opinion.

Judgemental backlash like we’ve seen for these films is bad for creativity, as the inevitable result is that film production becomes more conservative.

Outfit check: the day I saw Le Comte de Monte Cristo (2024) in cinema

But more importantly, I want to normalise the idea that you (yes, YOU) are entitled to your own tastes, regardless of what others think. Having tastes in life that others consider “bad” can lead a person to feel a lot of shame about themselves.

it’s taken me a long time to be OK to say things like “I cry when I watch Titanic,” and I’m fairly thick-skinned. I’ve known people for whom it’s taken a lifetime to feel comfortable with their tastes: not just their guilty pleasures, but their normal ones too.

Why, in 2024, do people need to feel bad about themselves for enjoying a movie?

I’m calling for people to recognise that their tastes are valid and to know that you can be proud of what you like.

And for those (like me) who share their opinions, try to be kind in how you talk about things like films or music. Just because you didn’t like something doesn’t mean the person you’re speaking to agrees with you.

Be respectful of others' right to their tastes.

And if you haven’t watched Titanic recently, do so. It’s fucking awesome.

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Salut,

If you are enjoying my content, please consider leaving a comment. I’d love to know what you think — and others will too.

And your feedback helps. Back when I used to make money from my writing, I had editors. Being open to their advice helped me become a better writer, and I’m open to yours.

If you prefer to just read my work and keep your peace, that’s totally fine too.

Sending you love, as always,

Robert

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