I’m so thankful I’m not a film critic.

There are many in my online social circle who feel compelled to see every new release so that they can be critics. Today they might go see the latest superhero movie, tomorrow a self-indulgent character study that takes three and a half hours to say people are horrible, and then a musical over the weekend. Sometimes they might go in expecting to hate something and come out respecting it. More often than not, I imagine, they’re proven right.

Or, more likely, they have no strong feelings about the film.

It’s just meh.

Maybe the critics are the heroes we need. I certainly respect their work and dedication, while also being thankful that theirs is not my calling. For a few years I thought it might be, and I saw so many movies that I immediately forgot at best, and made me miserable for days at worst. Of course, I saw a few movies I loved. But those were movies I would’ve chosen to watch without any sort of obligation. 

Clint Eastwood’s masterful Richard Jewell comes to mind.

In a world overwhelmed by content, I’d rather watch movies that have stood the test of time. I know it’s cool to say that Casablanca isn’t that great. The fact that it’s been studied, praised, and screened countless times over the decades says otherwise. It may not be to your taste, but there’s no denying that it’s a great film and well worth your 102 minutes. I don’t like High Noon, at all, yet its significance is undeniable and I’m sure I’ll watch it again someday.

We have to know the past to talk about the present.

Too many online critics aren’t well-versed in the classics, and thus lack the knowledge and vocabulary to talk about the new stuff. There’s a popular YouTube channel with two engaging hosts that I want to love. I won’t name them, because I’m about to put them on blast. Their channel is split between reactions to older movies and talking about current movies and pop culture. Unfortunately, they know so little film history that their takes aren’t terribly helpful. 

Hopefully, as they continue going back and increasing their knowledge base, things will improve.

You’ll never be a better person for having seen “all the movies.” But if you can let me know that you understand the language and history of film, your commentary will be better and I’ll take your opinions more seriously. 

And if you want to tell good stories…

You can’t go wrong by studying the masters. Reviewing books and movies is fun but, again, it’s not my calling. I think I’m called to create. So I don’t need to see all of the uninspired, derivative content that’s filling the production pipeline. It’s more to my advantage to know what’s great and try to figure out why. Ideas can come from anywhere, anything. But great inspiration comes from great things.

So I want to focus on things that are great.

In some ways, 2024 feels like the year that didn’t. I did not publish any novels or short stories (though I poked at a few). I did not go on any grand adventures (though BasedCon was great). I did not experience any positive, major life changes. Saying goodbye to a beloved pet was a change, but not something that improved my day-to-day. While I indulged my love of Lego and found some video games I enjoyed, these are hardly worth mentioning.

Not that 2024 was a total loss.

As I’ve continued my physical training, I’ve improved my workouts and seen good results. For better or worse, I got my weight back down to where I'm really lean and feel my best. A few years ago I bulked up and decided to take my time losing the extra pounds. With the holidays, I’ve gained some of it back, yet I feel better than ever. There is such a thing as too lean, and some extra calories will hopefully help me add some more muscle over the winter.

I’m also sleeping more thanks to the longer nights.

My diet has changed a bit. I’ve gradually cut out heavily processed foods, like protein bars, and only had restaurant food sparingly. Early in the summer I met a neighbor at a farmers market who bakes sourdough breads, rolls, cookies, and scones with simple, often local, ingredients. Low and behold, her backdoor is practically directly two miles from my front door, and I’ve become a regular customer. Sure, I could learn to bake my own bread. But the personal connection with a neighbor is nice.

My weekly bread pickup is often the highlight of my week.

Another significant change has been getting more time to myself. When the weather was nice, I used it for taking long walks. Hopefully in the coming year I’ll get my little outbuilding converted into a proper writing studio with heat, air conditioning, and ventilation. I’ve already gathered together everything I need to have it double as a movie theater, for the days I need to refill the creative well. Maybe it won’t be great, but it will be fun.

But looking ahead…

If nothing else, I hope to write and submit at least one short story for publication. Finishing my novel would be very nice, too. I’ve missed getting into my mental workshop and piecing together a story and sharing it with an enthusiastic audience, and I have many stories I want to tell. Thankfully, my schooling never stopped. Every book I’ve read and movie I’ve watched has been instructive in some way. It’s impossible for me to watch passively.

Other goals include:

More audiobooks/fewer podcasts

Less politics/more culture

More physical media/less streaming

Better balance between online friends and in person interactions

As much I hate paying for streaming services when I have most anything I want to watch on disc, one benefit around the holidays are the curated lists. Just want to watch some classic Christmas TV episodes? They’ve got them all sorted out for you. The other night I scrolled through the holiday collection on Paramount+ and saw a suggestion for an episode of The Twilight Zone that, while not usually considered a Christmas episode, qualifies.

And I’d never seen it before.

“The Changing of the Guard” stars an unrecognizable Donald Pleasence as Prof. Ellias Fowler, a stern instructor at a school for boys. His focus, English literature. In the classroom he’s sarcastic and belittles the boys in a way that wouldn’t fly nowadays. But behind closed doors, he expresses real affection for the young lads, and though he’s been at the institution for 51 years, he hopes to keep teaching for another 51. His hopes are shattered when he realizes, just before the Christmas break, that’s he’s being forced into retirement.

Merry Christmas indeed.

Distraught, he questions what, if any, good he’s done. Over the many years, some of his graduates went on to die in war. “I gave them nothing,” he tells his housekeeper. “Now, where do you suppose I ever got the idea that I was accomplishing anything?” After dismissing her for the evening and promising to lay down for nap, but instead he walks out into the snowy night with his gun. His intentions are clear.

But The Twilight Zone has other plans.

Standing before a statue on campus, the symbol of all his purpose in life, Fowler prepares to do the unthinkable. And then the bells begin to chime. Confused, he goes inside, to his classroom, to see what is going on. There he’s met by the ghosts of his former students, young men who had the courage to sacrifice themselves. Some died in battle, others in the pursuit of live-saving science. One by one they share the virtues he instilled in them in the classroom.

Fowler accomplished much.

It’s worth noting that it wasn’t Fowler’s own words or opinions that made the difference. All he did was share with them the wisdom of the ages, the words of great poets written to inspire, and explained what they meant. Today, when vices are held up as virtues and strength (masculine, heroic strength) is called toxic, one wonders if there are any teachers like him left. And without them, what will become of the young men who go out into the world?

We all have the capacity to inspire.

Christmas is the most inspirational time of year, when we celebrate God coming to earth to offer us salvation and to follow in His footsteps doing good works, which He prepared for us beforehand. We don’t have to stand in front of a classroom to make a difference. All we need to do to accomplish something is, like Fowler, share the truth.