A Matter of Opinion...

 
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I recently went to a movie with friends. As we were leaving the theater, we started in with our opinions. I thought the movie was too long and a little boring, and I was sure they would agree. Imagine my surprise when Laura declared that she loved it. Imagine my jaw dropping when her husband, James, declared, “Best movie of the year!” Say what? Laura challenged him saying, “Well, it was good, but I don’t know if I would say best movie of the year.” To which he replied, “Best movie ever made!” To which she replied again, “Well, I don’t know if it was the best movie ever made, although I did enjoy it!” To which James replied, “Name a better movie.” Laura and I were stunned. So stunned that neither of us could think of a better movie, which is such a bummer because of course there are a bazillion better movies than that one. I had expressed my so-so opinion of the movie early on; after that I stayed quiet. Still, I wondered, had we even seen the same movie?


I continue to be amazed at how people can watch the same movie and have such wildly varying opinions. Remember the smash hit, “Crazy Rich Asians”? I could hardly wait for that movie to end. The way that film celebrated over-the-top opulence was just disturbing, and I was astonished that people loved it. Then there was “La La Land”, OMG – what was the point of that movie? But it seems that everyone other than me ate it up. On the other hand, I adored “Moonlight” and its message of love and resilience and redemption. I told my friend Mike, a passionate movie watcher (and book reader) that he simply must watch it. He did, and called me afterwards saying, “Now what was it about that movie that you loved?” I was floored. How could he not share my opinion?

The other thing that amazes me is how irritated I get when others don’t share my opinion about movies, which, I’ll admit happens often.


Then there are books. Some of my faithful readers know that I have made a commitment to read all of the The New York Times’ “10 Best Books of 2019”.  I have waded through the first two titles. The first book I read was OK, but I wouldn’t have finished it if it weren’t an assignment. The second book was so boring that I did stop at page 100. I just could not bear to read another word. The third book is on the bedside table. I will read this book, I will read this book, I will… 

Of the first book, The New York Times says, “Acutely sensitive to these misgivings, [the author] has delivered a madly allusive, self-reflexive, experimental book, one that is as much about storytellers and storytelling as it is about lost children.” The second book: “In her extraordinary, engrossing debut, [the author] pushes past the baseline expectations of memoir to create an entertaining and inventive amalgamation of literary forms.” 

It would seem that The New York Times book editors have a much loftier set of criteria. “Madly elusive, self-reflexive, and experimental” do not keep me engrossed.  “An inventive amalgamation of literary forms” doesn’t hold me either. Just give me book with great characters and a good plot; a book that I cannot stop reading, and that I wish would never end.


You’ll notice that I am not sharing the titles of the books I read. Because I do NOT want to hear from anyone about how they loved the book. Somehow it is acceptable to disagree with the editors of The New York Times. It’s just when someone on a personal level doesn’t share my opinion that I get irked.  

My friend Gloria says, “We’re each entitled to our own opinions,” which I find so annoying. It is so much more gratifying and just plain right when people agree with you. And I am, frankly, a little surprised when they don’t.


So, I will not be telling you the the title of the movie that I thought was just “so-so”, that may have, in fact, been the best movie ever made. And I won’t tell you the book I finished reading last night (which was not on the NYT best list) or the movie I saw last week, both of which I loved. 

I know you’re entitled to your opinion. But let’s just keep those opinions to ourselves.