Rank

I was at the pub yesterday (which practically never happens) and I was asked what my favourite film was.

I couldn't answer. I'm not opposed to ranking art in order of preference, even though doing so runs counter to the whole purpose of art. I even recently tried to rank my favourite albums.

And I could probably come up with a rough top ten favourite films that would be generally representative.

But I couldn't choose just one.

I don't know the people I was with very well, and my choice of a single favourite film might have suggested something about myself that isn't true. For the sake of getting the conversation over (which is always my main goal), I wanted to just pick one anyway. But in my head, each choice seemed like it would create an inaccurate impression.

If I'd have said The Graduate, they might have thought I was a pretentious entry-level film nerd with no imagination.

If I'd have said Back to the Future II, they might have thought I was a simpleton, who only liked mainstream Hollywood (even though it's a great film).

If I'd have said The Apartment, they might have thought I was old-fashioned.

If I'd have said The Big Lebowski, they might have thought I was one of those awful people whose favourite film is The Big Lebowski.

My brain raced through films that I liked, but that would also create exactly the right impression of myself. I want to be knowledgeable, but not snobbish; not too obscure, but not too mainstream; no established classics, but no ridiculous novelty choices.

In the end, I didn't say anything. But did make several comments, which were at points snobbish, pretentious, infantile and ridiculous.

All of the good work I'd done in my head was undone as soon as I opened my mouth.

That's why I don't like socialising. Nobody holds me in high regard anyway, but even from that low base level, my conversation can only ever send their opinion plummeting. Every syllable that passes my list takes a percentage off my "probably an OK guy" score.

If I was mute, this would never happen.

I realise, of course, that my choice of film doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. It doesn't even matter in an extremely localised scheme of things, sketched on the back of a napkin.

No-one else cared about their choice of film. What makes me an idiot isn't my choice of film, but the fact that I went through a torturous brain panic trying to justify my decision. I have problems.

I need to stop thinking about things so much.

...

Maybe I should have said Duck, You Sucker! (aka A Fistful of Dynamite). That's fairly obscure, but it's directed by someone quite famous. I have only seen it once, though.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I should have said that. That's definitely one of my favourite films. I should have said that. Damn. It would show that I have imagination, that I'm a romantic, that I dig Mark Ruffalo. I would have been king of the room. I should have said that.

Once again, my wish to be original completely paralysed me. Which is doubly disappointing because being paralysed is itself very unoriginal. Loads of people have done it.

At least they didn't ask me what my favourite animal was. That's even harder.

Bear? Duck? Griffin?

I think every human is a complicated cocktail of the stuff they like, the stuff they think, and the stuff they do. Trying to judge someone on their favourite film would be like judging a book on the curl of the lower-case 'a's. No-one would do that.

No-one did do that.

I practice a special alchemy, transforming nothing into problems.

***

This song was someone's jam recently, and it has been stuck in my head. It's a bit difficult to get a handle on what it's supposed to be. It makes me feel like a have the flu, but in a good way.