What We Would Watch

Dearest Rachel –

Last night, while occupying my evening with YouTube in the bedroom while the boys were doing likewise in the family room, I was presented with an AdSense question that, at the moment, struck me as rather strange. It was asking me how often I watched horror films and series, with responses ranging from ‘never’ to ‘rarely’ to ‘occasionally’ to ‘frequently.’ Presumably, this was in order to get a sense of whether or not to advertise such media to me; no sense marketing it to me in these days of individually customized advertising if it could be established that I wasn’t interested. But even as I understood that ‘never’ was still an option, I found myself perplexed that such a question would even be presented to me; what made Google think I would be even remotely interested in such stuff?

Ours was an unusual relationship with regard to this particular dynamic. Ordinarily, given the average couple on the subject of horror, you would expect the male of species to be into the whole blood and gore and guts and veins in the teeth imagery, with his distaff companion squeamishly put off by the very idea. Not so with the two of us. While I wouldn’t call myself squeamish, as such, I had no particular taste for such films, or even such scenes, to be honest. The pool of entertainment media was large enough, in my opinion, that I could splash around happily for an entire lifetime without ever bothering to dip my toes into a genre that simply didn’t interest me, nor did it appeal to me.

By contrast, you were exposed to the genre from childhood, presumably from being your daddy’s girl. When your mom had exhibitions, shows or club activities to attend to, you and your dad would slide a pizza in the oven (the only time you were allowed to have prepackaged food as a kid!), pop some popcorn, and settle in to watch a movie together on the family VCR you talked your folks into getting (it was one of those “free if you open an account/invest in a CD” offers that banks used to do back in the day to attract customers – remember those days?). As often as not, it was a horror movie the two of you would watch, and I’m pretty sure that’s how you acquired an appreciation for the genre that I never could.

You continued to indulge in such films once we were married, but usually would watch them when I was off at work (and Daniel was at school – it doesn’t appear that he’s got the same taste for such shows that you had, so I can only assume that your interactions with him didn’t include a mirror image of your times with your dad). Often, you would relate the plot of the story to me as best you could when I would get home; sometimes, I think it might have been the most interesting part of your day, so it was your way of answering that standard evening question of “so, how was your day, honey?”

I wish I had some recordings of your synopses these days; some day, I’ll explain why in more detail.

As for myself, I don’t seek that sort of thing out. Even the “let’s players” we used to watch online are going by the boards (and I have to confess, one of these days, I’ll probably send you a list of channels I’m unsubscribing from, complete with memories and explanations as to why I’m never watching these people again); games like Five Nights at Freddy’s or any one of hundreds (it seems) of indie horror games don’t stir me the way they did you – and even if I did enjoy them to a certain extent, there would always be this mildly hollow sensation of “she would have wanted to see this” hanging over it that would drain much of the enjoyment out of the show.

At the same time, I’m not entirely devoid of fascination with the genre, which is why I ultimately clicked on ‘rarely’ instead of ‘never’ when the question came up. You see, upon puzzling over the question, I realized I’d been binge-watching a series on the ‘most disturbing videos on YouTube.’ This being YouTube, with its strict and mercurially capricious rules regarding what can be monetized (and, more to the point, what will be demonetized), creators have to be careful in terms of showing – or even telling – details, so the visuals aren’t as hideously gory as all that. But the truly disturbing nature of many of these videos lies in their context; a seemingly happy family whose appearance on camera belies awfulness just below the surface, a celebration at a crowded venue mere moments before things go terribly wrong, a violent criminal being interviewed and seeming like a normal individual, highlighting what Hannah Arendt referred to as ‘the banality of evil.’ That sort of thing. Heck, the more I think about it, the more your skating video might carry a couple of those attributes, rendering it fairly disturbing in its own right. The only thing keeping it from being worthy of such a show is footage of your last slide down the hill, or maybe something on a more massive scale in terms of people (or, come to that, audience; there’s nothing like dying in public that renders footage ‘disturbing’).

I realized it was because of something like this that the question was posed to me. And while I can’t imagine being interested in the latest horror – or even suspense – flick Google might want to pitch to me, I suppose that, if Megumi were to show up and ask me if I’d watch, say, Midsommar with her, I might very well go along with her on that.

***

On the flip side of all this – and somewhat dovetailing from it – I also came across one of many list-based channels recommending anime series that I decided to add to my subscription list. The particular episode that sold me on it was entitled “Top 10 Anime That You Can’t Watch in Public,” and I was curious as to what, exactly, that entailed (as well as whether I – or rather, we – had seen any of them already).

One of them, Higurashi (When They Cry), actually fit precisely into this mold of horror that you enjoyed while I couldn’t bring myself to, complete with you relating the story to me as you watched through it at some point while I was out of the house. Several others, more in line with the fanservice-y nature of anime, we had actually seen together; some we enjoyed, and others not so much. Others, of course, appear to be of more recent vintage, so there isn’t the opportunity to watch them together.

And that was the thing I found myself taking away from the concept. Look, I get the idea of guilty pleasures; believe me, I have enough of them, myself. But by and large, enjoyments are meant to be shared as best they can. You developed your taste (if not necessarily love) for horror because of the time spent with your ‘daddy’; even while acknowledging that I had no desire to share the time in front of the television when such things were playing, you felt the need to subsequently share the stories with me, regardless (which I was more than okay with – and I’d love to have those days back, among so many others). The idea of shutting the doors, turning off the lights, and making sure my headphones were plugged in securely so as to ensure I would be the only one aware that I was watching this or that show seems anathema to me.

I might not have agreed with this particular list, but there is something to be said for certain media as a litmus test. You might not reject someone out of hand who didn’t like this or that genre or show, but if you could find someone who could enjoy it together with you, then you would know you’d found a real keeper. Wouldn’t you agree, honey?

Anyway, I need to get on with the day. Take care, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.