Film Twitter Survival Guide

“Life is very short, and there’s no time for fussing or fighting, my friend.” – from “We Can Work It Out” – Lennon/McCartney (used slightly out of context)

I typically go on a rant once a year (give or take a few months), so I figured I was overdue for another one. If you’re expecting another review, fear not. Another should be along shortly, so I hope you’ll bear with me.

I’m still hazy on the whole “Film Twitter” thing. I’ve always felt a bit like Schrödinger's cat, not sure if I’m in or out. Is there a formal application process with review by a panel of film school graduates? Do I need to own a minimum number of Criterion titles or possess the ability to recall the exact number of titles I’ve watched in a lifetime? Since I’m unsure where I sit on the fencepost, maybe I’m not the right person to comment about what’s right or wrong about Film Twitter.

Although I’ve often heard it referred to as a dumpster fire or cesspool (take your pick), my experience has been overwhelmingly positive. This post isn’t meant to be the last word on Film Twitter. It’s only a beginning. It’s part of a learning curve that never ends, and I’m sure I’ve made more than a few faux pas during my stint (cue the Spider-Man finger-pointing meme). This should be an open, ongoing dialogue, so if you think something should be added, please comment.

Here are some observations I’ve distilled:

1.     Always be kind. This doesn’t mean you have to agree with everyone all the time, but take a moment or two to consider your response before you comment on a tweet. It doesn’t cost anything to be a decent person. Don’t rain on other people’s parades. Do your part to make Twitter a more positive place to be. Sure, it’s not all puppies, daffodils and rainbows, but shaming people about their movie picks doesn’t add anything to the dialogue.

2.     Don’t follow people, only to unfollow. Some accounts that will remain nameless play this little game to inflate their follower-to-followed ratio. It’s not cool, so don’t do it.

3.     Follow wisely. Make your timeline something you want to visit, so follow accounts that will make you happy. If their tweets make you feel miserable, they’re probably not worth your time and energy.

4.     Twitter is a fickle beast. If there’s a magic formula to getting likes and retweets, I don’t know what it is. Why one tweet gets a bunch of attention while other tweets flounder remains a mystery. Maybe it’s the timing, or the general atmosphere when you tweeted, but don’t despair. Keep moving forward, and don’t look back.

5.     We don’t all like the same things, and that’s okay. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s all right to hold an unpopular opinion about a movie, without denigrating other people’s love for said film. Does that make me right and them wrong? No, it’s a matter of personal taste. When I see a tweet I don’t agree with, I can always ignore it and move on. The great thing about Film Twitter, is there’s always someone who matches your particular taste.

6.     DM responsibly. I use this feature occasionally, with people I know fairly well. Some folks, however, (probably for very good reason) don’t like to receive DMs. Be sure to respect their wishes. If you’ve just followed me and our first interaction is hawking your product or asking me to visit your GoFundMe (or similar) account, it’s not going to end well.

7.     Our unique Twitter identities. I’m tickled that so many people associate me with Peter Lorre, despite the fact that in real life, I don’t remotely resemble him in appearance or stature. There are many others who are associated with one movie, a filmmaker or actor, and that’s what makes this such a cool place to inhabit.

8.     It’s our home away from home. For many of us, this might be one of the few forums where we can openly express ourselves and our love of movies. It’s all well and good if people in our personal lives or work enjoy and appreciate our love of movies, but for many of us, especially those that contend with social anxiety (as I do) or lack adequate support networks in real life, this is the only way we’re likely to interact with our fellow film lovers.

9.     It’s not always about you. Yes, I understand that Twitter has been designed for narcissists. It’s an ideal forum for selfies, grandstanding, political diatribes and general appeals for attention, but consider for a moment that it can be used to help promote someone else. When I start feeling sorry for myself because I perceive no one’s paying attention, it’s the perfect time to look outward and retweet or give thanks to my supporters.

10.  Tag responsibly. Tagged conversations can be fun, but sometimes the discussion goes into overdrive, going on strange tangents or outstaying its welcome. That’s when it might be handy to mute the conversation. Also, I’m not naming any names, but some bloggers persist in tagging a bunch of people with their reviews on a daily (or twice daily) basis. If you’re going to frequently tag someone with your reviews/promotions, make sure they don’t mind it. It should be a reciprocal relationship, so be prepared to promote them as well.

11.  A word on polls: There’s something about Twitter polls that eggs on the contrarians. Every time I start a poll and hear someone comment, “you left out…” or “None of them” I want to get out my imaginary spray bottle and give them a spritz or two. Twitter polls only have a maximum of four choices. If you don’t like the choices that are offered, there’s nothing stopping you from running your own poll.

12.  Shout outs: Anyone’s who’s followed me for a while knows I’m a big fan of tagging folks on Follow Friday (#FF). I know that not everyone is a fan of these types of shout outs, but it’s a way of giving thanks to those I interact with the most, and a token of mutual support. I think the “follow” aspect of Follow Friday is secondary to the display of appreciation. Although many of the same names surface from week to week, I don’t have a set distribution list. If I miss anyone, it’s unintentional, but feel free to give me a holler. On the flipside, if you don’t want to be a part of these, let me know as well.

13.  Gatekeeping: Nothing seems to create a toxic atmosphere more than those who take it upon themselves to decide who is or isn’t a “real” fan. It shouldn’t be a pissing contest to see who’s the biggest fan, who knows the most trivia, or who does or doesn’t like a sequel.

14.  We’re all learning here. We can all learn much more from others than we could possibly impart as an individual. The sharing of passions is what keeps Film Twitter alive. We can benefit from one another, but there’s a right way to go about discussing the things we feel strongly about. Turning your views into a pedantic lecture probably won’t win a lot of admiration or followers.

15.  Blocking: I don’t like to mention the “B” word, because I view it as a last resort. It goes without saying that racist, misogynistic, anti-LGBTQ+, or otherwise verbally abusive rhetoric has no place in my timeline. But there’s another category: a vocal minority that thrives on being verbally abusive, overly argumentative, or condescending, feeling it’s their duty to “educate” you. Are they worth the trouble? Only you can decide, but do you really want to have that negativity in your life? 

16.  Have fun. Whether it’s the latest Halloween movie, a silent classic, or something shot on VHS for $150, Film Twitter remains a wonderful forum to discuss your passion. If something isn’t your cup of tea, move on. There’s enough room for everyone. Now go forth and create some quality content!

A Rant About Ratings

I hate rating movies. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a necessary evil, I suppose. It’s what you’re supposed to do when you review films, right? It’s a thumbnail sketch of my opinion, in easy-to-digest, minimal thought-inducing form. It’s all you’d ever need to know. You don’t even need to read my review, right? But hold your horses pardner; star ratings don’t tell the whole story.

Several months ago (I’m not great with time, so this could have been more than a year ago), I held a Twitter vote to gauge opinion about doing away with starred ratings altogether. Much to my chagrin, but not necessarily surprise, voting was skewed heavily in favor of keeping the dreaded system. I get it. I’m guilty of the same damn thing. It’s a busy world with things to do, people to see and amusing pet videos to ooh and aah at. It’s a whole lot easier to take something at a glance before we move on to the next thing. In this society of diminished attention spans and multiple distractions vying for our collective attentions, we want to cut to the chase. Growing up in my family of origin, I was constantly subjected to a skewed interpretation of movie reviews, as if “It was rated a three” told me anything useful. A three? By whom? A great hand descended from the heavens and dubbed the film a “three”? Nope, there was no divine intervention, just good old fallible humans and a severely flawed rating system from a local TV reviewer, newspaper, etc… But that one rating became my family’s indisputable authority on whether something was worth watching. The progression of this single-rating authority has been rating aggregate sites like Rotten Tomatoes, Metacritic and IMDB. They do the thinking for us, despite the fact not all reviewers are alike, nor does each critic necessarily evaluate movies with the same criteria. As a result, there’s not much reliability or validity to these scores.

Not all ratings, including my own, are created equal. I chose the boring but venerable 5-star rating system, but whether you use numbers, stars, skulls, cute little aliens, or whatever, it all amounts to the same. You’re quantifying a subjective thing. What you see from me is a composite. The ratings I slap on my reviews are a compromise between quality and watch-ability, all smooshed into one neat little package. The ratings don’t mean much in terms of favorites, or a desire to re-watch the movie multiple times. While Downfall might get a high rating from me, one viewing is enough to last a lifetime, whereas Island of Lost Souls merits repeat viewings.

And another thing. I’ll be the first to admit my ratings are not infallible, and occasionally inconsistent. Maybe I was having a bad day, and the movie didn’t click with me at that moment, or maybe I was sleepy, and couldn’t concentrate. In the latter case, it wasn’t really boredom but fatigue that dictated a less than glowing review. At their best (I’m using the word “best” loosely), however, my reviews are like a mini courtroom in which I present the prosecution and the defense, exploring the good and not-so-good aspects of the movie. I’m also judge and jury, but so are you. Based on the testimony, perhaps you’ll arrive at a different verdict. The star rating alone won’t lead you to any further exploration

With that in mind, let’s revisit my admittedly flawed ratings system:

***** = It’s a masterpiece, right? But what’s a masterpiece, anyway? It’s all relative, although I suppose the best answer is that these are movies that are perfect to me. I wouldn’t want to change a thing with Alien, The Thing, Metropolis, Spirited Away, or Five Easy Pieces.

**** = Many of my favorites reside here. Why four stars and not five? I’m a sucker for imperfection. These titles might not be “perfect,” but that’s why they work so well for me. Labyrinth, Phantasm, Eyes Without a Face, Gremlins, and many, many others fall into this category.

*** = These movies have some wonderful and not-so-wonderful moments. Some had the potential for greatness, while others had no such lofty pretensions, and are as good as it gets. They teeter on the boundary between trash and treasure. Brain Damage, Ice Cream Man, Demons and Logan’s Run are some notable examples.

** = It’s a mess, beyond repair. Something might have saved it, but I’m not sure what that would be. I’m looking at you, Terror Train and Young Einstein.

* = As an optimist in pessimist’s clothing, I want to believe the best intentions in a movie. Hating a movie isn’t inherently in me, which is why this might be the rarest rating of all. This rating is reserved for titles with no redeeming qualities, which offended me on a cellular level. Mac and Me has earned its rightful place here.

You won’t find many one or five-star reviews, because most movies don’t fall in this range. Contrary to many Netflix or Amazon user reviews (no offense intended to those who evaluate movies on Netflix or Amazon, you’re all fine people), most movies aren’t worthy of the loftiest praise or eternal damnation. That’s why you’ll find the vast majority of my reviews fall within the two- to four-star range. You’ll find three-and-a-half-star ratings most frequently on my blog. It’s a sweet spot for me. In many instances the film’s reach might have exceeded its grasp, but I was glad to go along for the ride. Taste the Blood of Dracula, The Blob, and Executive Koala are just a few examples. By far, my most misunderstood rating is two and a half stars. These movies showed a lot of potential, and I might even enjoy them in parts, but they have too many strikes against them. Dune, Demon Seed, and Hardware are ones that I’m perennially on the fence about. Some titles might merit re-evaluation from time to time. My opinion has remained relatively consistent over the years, so it’s relatively rare when I reverse my opinion, but hey, it happens.

So, there you have it. The star ratings aren’t going away for now, but I don’t like ‘em, and don’t be too surprised if I eschew ratings altogether in a future incarnation of this blog. My star ratings are not the final word on the subject. If you enjoyed the movie more than I did, great. If you didn’t like it as much as I did, or even hated it, that’s fine too. I’m pleased by those who have chosen to visit and re-visit my blog for reviews, so I feel I’m doing something right. But even I’m not delusional enough to believe that everyone agrees with my opinions all the time. Oh, and please read my reviews in their entirety, because starred ratings suck.