A so-so defence of movie reaction videos

Yes, I am aware of the criticisms against reaction channels on Youtube. I cannot blame people for thinking it is a very low-effort and easy-money content.

But, recently, I find myself allured by some of them, particularly ones who “react” to feature films. It started with Bon Joon Ho’s Parasite. Then, it was Everything Everywhere All At Once. Then, other films – ones I have watched myself – followed.

The purpose of arts is to inspire us. The purpose of entertainment is to… well… entertain us. Being thought-provoking is just a bonus, albeit a very nice one. In the end, arts and entertainment are meant to make us feel things, to make us feel like human beings.

And I just love seeing those reactors… being humans.

I love seeing them laughing out loud at Kung Fu Hustle. I love seeing them being unnerved and horrified by Parasite, Hereditary and Psycho. I love seeing them becoming teary-eyed because of Good Will Hunting and any of Pixar’s films. And I definitely love how Everything Everywhere All At Once can give them disgust, confusion, hilarity and sentimentality, sometimes more than one of them at the same time. Seeing their genuine reactions is a delight.

I have no problem about Youtubers embracing exaggerated personas; my Millennial self can find (some of) them entertaining. But, admittedly, they embrace their personas so often, their authentic self expressions feel like rare, special moments. They feel like an oasis in the desert.

And those movie reactors – at least, the ones I watch – never embrace any personas; I am certain because I am not one of those morons who cannot differentiate what is cartoonish and what isn’t, like how they thought Filthy Frank was a real person. Not to mention, some of those reactors are reserved people whose eyes betray their monotonous speaking tones.

Admittedly, I do still have issues with those reaction youtubers.

I wish they cut the parts where they don’t show any reactions at all and I wish they have higher appreciations of cinema; I love James vs Cinema because not only he is a filmmaker, which means he has more cinematic knowledge than the average person, he also dares to choose arthouse fares like Ingmar Bergman’s Persona and Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker, resulting in more substantial reaction content.

But, despite the shortcomings, I still love watching them.

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Two films about trauma (and how the theme heightens my appreciation of them)

Those films are The Babadook and Good Will Hunting.

I already liked them at the first watch. I liked the former for its slow-burn and jumpscare-free horror. I liked the latter for its heart-warming drama. But, I didn’t find them special and I certainly thought the latter was way too overrated.

Recently, I tried rewatching them and I realised I missed something. Both films are about trauma.

Well, technically, The Babadook is still about grief. But. the film also focuses its long-term psychological effects and yes, grief can be traumatising. In the case of Amelia Vanek, the mother in the film, it is doubly traumatic because her husband died in a car accident while driving her to the hospital to give birth.

Good Will Hunting is about how trauma affects the titular character’s personal growth and his relationship with the other characters. His genius brain is just a mere detail to make him more captivating for the audience. If he doesn’t have it, I guarantee the story would not feel much different emotionally.

Now, how does the trauma theme improve my appreciation of the films? Well, it makes me understand the characters on a deeper level.

In The Babadook, while I already recognised her grief, I genuinely thought the film was about her daily stress of being a working single mother. But, it doesn’t explain why she seems distressed all the time – as if the stress is “permanent” – and it certainly doesn’t explain her emotional instability.

Trauma can also explain the behaviours of Samuel, the son. I don’t know if he inherits his mom’s trauma or not (as it can be hereditary). But, it is very possible he can sense something is wrong with her; he can sense there is something sinister brewing inside his mom and she can snap at any time. He is not being annoying, he is being reasonably fearful.

It also explains why the monster still lives in the end. From what I understand, trauma – the more severe one, at least – is not something you can get rid of; it is something you can only put a leash on. You cannot kill the Babadook. But, you can tame it.

And that segues to Good Will Hunting, specifically the therapist character, Sean Maguire. We don’t seem to realise that, like Will, he also suffers from trauma.

Will insulted his wife, which was enough to provoke Sean to throttle and threaten to kill him… and that happened on their very first session, by the way; anger issue is one of the most common symptoms of trauma. Sean was also abused by his father and he is a Vietnam war veteran who saw his best friend dying in front of him.

We can make an intriguing comparison between the two characters. On one hand, they are very similar to each other; not only they are “Southies” AKA from South Boston, they also have traumatic life experiences, which include being abused by their so-called parental figures.

But, at the same time, they are also different from each other. Will – to put it simply – is a mess of a person; he is aimless, he cannot be emotionally vulnerable in front of his lover and he has constant problems with the law. Meanwhile, Sean has sorted his life together; he works as a therapist and a community college professor and, most importantly, he romantically pursued a woman and married her for eighteen years until her death.

Of course, unlike Sean, Will was also an orphan, which means he had less opportunities and – without any intention to minimise Sean’s suffering – was also in a far more vulnerable state; self-improvement is admittedly harder to obtain for him.

But, at the same time, Sean’s life story feels hopeful. It shows we can overcome our pain and not letting it holding us down. We can prevail against the storm.

I still don’t think both films are among the best in the history. But, my acknowledgement of the underlying theme puts light on new perspectives. The films are much deeper than I realised.

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Non-fat people can also be greedy motherf***ers

Before Smosh, I was only occasionally exposed to Reddit stories. Now, thanks to the videos, I am more familiar with them.

Many of the stories are undoubtedly infuriating. But, there is one which hits different: this is the first one which I find….. triggering.

In this story, an obese man got called a pig because he finished the last remaining sandwiches at a party and the reddit comment section thought he was the asshole. If you pay attention to the details, calling him the asshole is a bit too much.

First thing first, it was at a party and the foods were meant to be eaten. Unless you are one of those weirdos who think foods should be purely decorative.

Second, he said he waited for an hour before he ate the last remaining sandwiches, ensuring no one else wanted them. Despite having large appetite, he still had some self-control and tact.

Third, he brought chicken wings and, like the feral hairless apes they were, they gobbled every single one, leaving none for him. Not to mention they just watched, waited for him finishing the food before unleashing hell upon him.

While I may not be obese, I am still an overweight person with large appetite and I find the story too painfully relatable.

I am fatter than most people around me and yet, I have better self-control than many of them. My mom’s the worst.

Every time we eat at a restaurant, she almost always over-order the foods. When she doesn’t take heed of my complain, we – especially me – often end up feeling extremely nauseous at the end because I hate wasting foods and she has what we Indonesians call the “hungry eyes”: a condition in which we want certain things simply because we love their sights and not because we need them…. and that includes foods; yes, she rarely finish the food she over-orders.

Not only she lets her eyes conquering her guts, she also lets her tongue to do the same. It doesn’t matter how heavy and greasy a meal is, it would not satisfy her if it tastes like snacks. So, after a nauseating dinner of crispy fried wonton with cheesey potato filling (a recipe of her friend) which she insisted to be served with rice, she still wanted a “proper meal”; I had to buy fried chickens and fries from the McDonald’s for her.

And I haven’t talked about my high school friends. We were celebrating something at a restaurant (I forgot what) and we opted for buffet dinner. When it was time to eat, many of them acted like they hadn’t eat in days; they immediately took two plates and each was filled with a mountainous pile. And yes, they didn’t finish their foods.

While I admittedly eat a lot of foods and I am definitely guilty of regular emotional eating, I always finish my foods; food wise, I NEVER bite off more than I can chew. I never over-buy foods in supermarkets, I never over-order in restaurants and I certainly never pile foods in buffets. I certainly know my stomach’s limit.

Of course, unsurprisingly my mom thinks I am the one who lacks restraint. She also acts surprises every time I say I am full, as if greasy foods and snacks should never fill me up. Not to mention the fat-shaming I endured growing up, along with the other emotional abuses she committed.

And those high school friends? They had the gall to mock me for taking a second helping. While they were not abusive like she is, their hypocrisy is just as frustrating.

Nowadays, I am much braver in calling her out (which really violates her conservative Indonesian boomer sensibility). But, that trauma still lingers to this day, as shown by how triggered I am by the reddit story.

Obviously, the redditor and I do need to fix our eating habits. I acknowledge that people like us are endangering our own health and personally, I despise how the body positivity movement is hijacked by people who whitewash fatness; you can humanise fat people without pretending they are healthy.

But, at the same time, we must be honest with ourselves: non-fat people can also have bad eating habits and, if you have basic knowledge in health, there are other unhealthy habits that won’t make you fat. Fat-shamers never care about other people’s well-beings, they are just abusive cunts who hide behind so-called “good intentions” which gullible fucks fall for.

Despite his own shortcoming, he is obviously not the asshole. But, unfortunately, many on reddit think he is.

I have different assumptions of why that is.

Maybe they are just unfortunately myopic and thoughtlessly negligent with the details luridly displayed in front of them. As regrettable as it is, I can acknowledge they mean no harm with their opinions and their condition can be cured by teaching them basic reading comprehensions and empathy.

Maybe they are those self-hating fat and former fat people. They have yet to accept that they deserve criticisms and the opportunity of self-improvements without the abuses.

Or maybe they are those abusers. They read how the narrator is obese and they immediately go predatory-mode, seeing him as someone to prey upon for their own sadistic amusement.

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As I said before, I found this story from one of Smosh’s reddit videos, hosted by Shayne Topp. Since I have been watching Smosh videos regularly, I – along with many – have been charmed by him.

Yes, he is physically attractive and funny. But, when he is not “performing”, he is also very chill and doesn’t take himself too seriously; judging from what his colleagues say about him (assuming they are telling the truth), he seems to be very likeable off-camera, so likeable they want to eat their lunches with him.

The reddit videos make him even more lovable for me. Even though I may not always agree with his assessments, he is the perfect host for such show: he is able to read between the lines, he is able to be nuanced without falling for false neutrality and he is not dismissive of other people’s life experiences.

With that reddit story, while he understands why people might get upset with the redditor’s behaviours, he also thinks the backlash is disproportionately harsh. He believes we can criticise the redditor without spewing venom.

And my crush for him gets him even stronger.

Yes, I know I have parasocial relationship with him. He doesn’t know I exist and if we ever meet, there is still very low chance we will ever be friends.

And yes, I also realise those traits of his may just be parts of his manufactured public persona. I shouldn’t be surprised or upset if they are eventually exposed as an act.

I have had parasocial relationships before. But, this is the first time I experience a very strong one in a long time. While I am more mentally impervious than most people I know, it still feels empowering when you grew up feeling lonely with your life experiences and a public figure validates them.

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The insensibility of sensibilities

Yes, sensibilities can be insensible.

My dictionary has two definitions of sensibilities; 1. our responsiveness to anything emotional; 2. our delicate sensitivity. Either way, they are not based on reasons, they are based on our emotions… and our emotions can suck.

With that in mind, it is reasonable to believe our sensibilities can be insensible.

How do you know yours are sensible or not? Just take a look at the things you are emotionally reacting to.

Do they offend you because they are actually harmful to you and your fellow human beings? Or do they offend you simply because you personally don’t like them?

Hate speech, incitement of violence, conspiracies about specific individuals or groups, corporal punishments on children, LGBT+ conversion therapy, anti-vaxxer beliefs, platforming bigots and conspiracy “theorists” without holding them accountable, toxic masculinity and femininity, religious fundamentalism. Those things are harmful because they either directly inflict physical and/or psychological harms upon others, empower others to do the same or compel them to inflict harms upon themselves. If you are a truly decent human being, they should offend you greatly.

But, things like disobeying dress codes, dressing like a slob, speaking with crude accents or dialects, having different tastes, diets and religions, not masculine or feminine enough, too masculine or feminine, being physically unattractive? How are any of those harmful in any ways?

If they do not inflict any physical and psychological traumas upon anyone, if being offended is the only thing you and others experience, then they are definitely harmless and your sensibilities are definitely insensible.

Obviously, we are human beings. No one has the right to tell us how and what to feel. No one has the right to prohibit us from establishing our own standards, no matter how arbitrary they are.

But, it becomes a problem when you mistake your emotions as objective measurement tools, when you are unable to distinguish your biases from the objective reality.

In this case, you and your sensibilities can go fuck yourselves.

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I just realise I may not hate Brutalism after all. But, there are still problems.

I used to hate this architectural style with a passion. Just like other people, I thought it created nothing but monstrosities which oppressively sucked the life out of their surroundings. In fact, filmmakers love to use them as settings for evil corporations and dystopian future.

But, after reading some comments by the style’s admirers, I have changed my mind.

They remind me that architectural styles are also art styles and art works are meant to evoke certain emotions. So yes, brutalist buildings are works of art.

After seeing them as such, I have started to sincerely appreciated their beauty, not despite of their bleakness but because of it! I am one of those people who believe beauty does not have to be remotely positive; when it comes to aesthetics, negativity can be beautiful. I will come back to this later.

I have actually found brutalist buildings that I like. They are the works of Studio Granda and Tadao Ando.

While theirs are not categorised as brutalist, their grey concrete exteriors give them the appearances of ones. In fact, not only they are not oppressively lifeless, they also blend in with their surroundings! That’s because they are designed using the critical regional approach, which calls for simplicity and consideration of the physical and/or cultural environments; it is basically the respectful version of international style.

This makes me realise the problem is not on brutalism, it is on the implementation!

Remember my comment about the aesthetic beauty of negativity? It seems some people – particularly brutalism lovers – forget that architecture is not just an art form, it is also an applied discipline; it is meant to bring immediate and tangible practical benefits!

Maybe it is just me. But, even if my house is not the most beautiful ever, the least it can do is to not suck the joy out of me. Surely, there is nothing beneficial about not feeling at home in your own house.

As works of art, most brutalist buildings are a success due to their adroitness in engendering emotions, galvanising us into conceding that something can be monumentally alluring not despite of its despotic despondency but because of it.

As practical tools, they suck ass.

I do acknowledge that every single architectural style – even the classical ones – can be incongruous when there are no consideration for the locality and utilisation. But, at least, those buildings still provide some kind of liveliness, albeit not the kind we need.

Let’s be honest with ourselves: there are no architectural styles reviled like the way brutalism is.

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As an introvert, the pandemic has finally affected me… in a bad way

No, I don’t miss large social situations.

I know some extroverts insist that, deep down, introverts prefer large social situations over solitude. Of course, they are stupid because that’s the exact opposite of what introversion is. They still believe “true introverts” are damaged, even though some extroverts’ willingness to risk public health for the sake of partying shows they are not immune from damage.

In fact, many introverts (who are free from financial problems) use the opportunity to be free from burdensome social “duties”. If it wasn’t for the adversities, I would have used a more celebratory tone.

I don’t miss the crowds. But, I do have to admit: I have developed a new anxiety.

Before the pandemic, I only had one reason to hate social gatherings: just like any introverts, I found them mentally grueling. Speaking for myself specifically, the less I was familiar with the people, the more exhausted I would end up.

And now, not only I still find them hectic, I also perceive them as potential disease incubator; considering a pandemic can last for years and there is always a potentiality for another one, I doubt my fear would dissipate soon.

Never mind encountering actual crowds. Even the sight of one in a goddamn video makes me anxious. They have become doubly stressful.

No, this does not prove extroverts’ inherent superiority. Let me remind you that some of them help spreading the disease. It shows extroversion’s liability in crises like this.

My point is I was a bit too assured about mentally surviving the pandemic, thinking introversion immunised me. Fortunately, like the one I have been having for years, this new anxiety is not crippling; I can live my daily life with ease.

But, it is a problem nonetheless.

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The Orange Girl

I am talking not only about the Jostein Gaarder’s novel, but also about the film adaptation. After immersing myself in both, I realised something: I actually don’t care for Jan Olav’s love life.

For me, it is not about how ‘beautiful’ his romance with the orange girl was (it is less beautiful and more sickly sweet). It is about how his son Georg utilises the tale as a tool for contemplation.

Even though I have read only three of his novels, it is obvious that Jostein Gaarder’s specialty is philosophical fiction; the contemplativeness is expected. Therefore, it is not far-fetched to say romance is not the novel’s main focus. As much as some of you may dislike it, the mind of Georg the pretentious is the main focus.

While the pretentiousness can be off-putting, I actually think it is understandable. If you receive something similar to a sentimental letter from your long-deceased loved one, existential musing is inevitable. If you are a teenager, the musing would be inevitably unrefined.

Of course, it may seems I am excusing it, considering Gaarder’s other novels Sophie’s World and The Solitaire Mystery are not (as) pretentious; it shows he has the capability to write (relatively) well-rounded philosophical fictions.

But, here’s the thing: they have leverages.

Sophie’s World revolves around an interaction between a student and a teacher of philosophy; the presence of an authority figure may help the titular character to be more grounded. The Solitaire Mystery is not even explicitly philosophical; it prefers to express ideas through allegorical means.

The Orange Girl, on the other hand, is explicitly philosophical and none of the living adult characters serve as the main character’s “philosophical mentor”, leaving him “unsupervised” with his musings. So, not only the pretentiousness is hard to evade, it also makes perfect sense.

It is a reason why I can still re-read the book to this day despite everything.

Now about the film adaptation…

Just like many people, I am also disappointed when the adaptations of my favourite books liberally change the stories, especially when the changes do not improve them, if not worsen.

But, in this case, there are two changes which may seem trivial for some, but personally infuriating for me: the setting and Georg’s love interest.

Why does Georg have to go on a skiing trip? Why can’t he simply contemplate inside his bedroom?

Okay, this is not one of those ‘finding-yourself-while-travelling’ stories. The skiing trip only lasts for a few days and it ends before the climax.

But still, I despise the belief that you can only “find yourself” by leaving home. It ignores one crucial element of such experience: the genuine desire to learn. It does not matter if you have visited every country on earth; if you don’t have the desire, you would always be the same pathetic loser of a person.

And why the love interest? The point of the letter is to appreciate life as a whole! But, it seems the filmmakers believed otherwise. Maybe they idiotically mistook the novel as a romance one.

Either that or they thought protagonists must always had love interests.

In both changes, it is shallowness resulting in dumb changes.

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Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus: unexpectedly nostalgic

Yes, I will spoil it. But first, I want to talk about its genre.

I was searching for magical realist novels recommendations on Google… and an article suggested this book. I bought it, I started reading it…. and it is disappointingly not magical realist. It is fantasy.

Don’t get me wrong: I still enjoy fantasy. I am disappointed because I want to read more magical realist novels as I find the genre interesting and the article’s writer clearly did not understand it enough.

If one reads novel and does not pay much attention, it does seem every character associated with the circus sees magic without any sense of wonder. Every time we enter their perspectives, the depiction of magic does feel matter-of-fact.

And that’s the thing: their perspectives.

The public -the rêveurs AKA the circus’s admirers especially- see the circus as an otherworldly entity instead of something one expects in the everyday life. That breaks the illusion of mundanity. If they don’t have that sense of wonder, the novel would definitely be a magical realist one.

And now, for the nostalgia….

I am surprised the novel compels me to feel nostalgic. Yes, it is a story about a magical world and my young self loved magical stories. But, its ending is rather gloomy.

Yes, Marco and Celia do not have to kill each other and Bailey stays with the circus which he has loved since he was young. But, Marco and Celia also end up living as ghost-like entities who cannot leave the circus… and Bailey -despite being young and still has his life ahead of him- chooses to be magically bound to the circus for eternity.

It is less sad and more bittersweet. But, my young self would still hate the ending; he would want an entirely sweet one.

My childhood fantasies also involve lots of actions, good vs evil physically embodied. Contrast that with this novel which is more dependent on the dialogues and the atmosphere.

To make it more confusing, I have read Harry Potter books; despite being more aligned to my childhood fantasies with their happy endings and actions, they do not feel nostalgic for me.

Maybe it has something to do with my maturity.

The older I get, the more I am not into happy endings and action-driven narratives. The former can deceive us by hiding the bitterness underneath. When excessively made, the latter can be sensory overloads and -unlike the more immersive ‘quiet’ scenes- they can distract us from the actual story-telling in the name of ‘not being boring’.

But, even if Harry Potter is less sentimental and more dialogue-driven, I doubt it would evoke the same nostalgia.

The most common criticism regarding Rowling’s worldbuilding is its clumsiness. While I do agree with the assessment, I also feel hers is a bit too unconcealed, too transparent. I mean, if you intend to explain almost everything, losing the enigmatic atmosphere is inevitable.

In The Night Circus, the magic is unexplained. Characters associated with the circus perceive it as a mundane entity while the outsiders perceive the magically-enlivened circus as something to be simply impressed, baffled and haunted by. The magic is mysterious.

Young me also loved mysteries… and I still do. They compel me to be curious about the world I live in and they encourage me to explore it. When it comes to fiction, I want the revelations to be subtle and polished instead of dry and excessively expositional. I want them to be aesthetically pleasing instead of feeling like I am reading a textbook.

I am hesitant to say if I have definitely found the cause of the nostalgia. The combination of my personal growth and my love of mysteries feels inadequate as a hypothesis.

But, for now, I am satisfied. This is an abstract topic in which I am trying to decipher my own personal feeling. As long as it makes sense to me and I am not projecting myself onto others, the explanation is valid enough.

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What’s dignity?

According to my dictionary, it means self-respect and the quality of worthy of respect. Any other dictionaries I looked into said similar things. Basically, it is how much we are respected by others and by our own selves.

The problem is we are too focused on how others see ourselves.

Some of us think we should listen to others’ so-called criticism NOT for the sake of self-improvement, but for the sake of caving in to peer pressures, for the sake of mindless conformity.

Let me give you an example (and yes, it will be dragging):

Let’s just say there is a young man in front of you who is unemployed, physically unfit and afraid to do any thrill-seeking activities. You constantly criticise him for not having a job and for not being physically active. You also love mocking him for being a scaredy cat.

The question is, why do you do that?

Ideally, you pester him to take a job and exercise because you care about him. You don’t want him to end up having little or no saving, having a snow as white resume and having extremely poor health. You pester him for good reasons.

You mock his fearfulness because you are annoyed by his macho guy-wannabe attitude and you use this opportunity to put that giant pussy in his place.

But, with some of you, that’s not the case, isn’t it?

You pester him to take a job NOT because you care about his future, but because you are offended.

You are one of those retards who believe the meaning of life is to work and/or to uphold neoliberal capitalism and that young man offends you because he unknowingly gives your retarded belief(s) the finger.

You fat-shame him because you don’t like seeing fat people. Who cares about his health? You think you are entitled to see so-called ‘beautiful’ people all the time, to have more people to masturbate to.

And regardless if he is a macho guy-wannabe or not, you would still mock him for being a scaredy cat. Maybe you are offended that he does not fulfil an arbitrary gender role. Maybe you are a retarded bully who takes pleasure in humiliating others. Maybe you are both.

My point is (if you can endure my ramblings) we should be careful in how we let others defining our ‘dignities’.

If they keep bothering you because they genuinely care about you or they are concerned your behaviours may negatively affect others, then you (unfortunately) have to listen to them. If they keep bothering you simply because you are different, then you should give them dildos so they can fuck themselves.

Obviously, differentiating the two is easier said than done. So, the only way to deal with such situation is to ask yourselves these questions:

If I follow their words, who would get the benefits: me or other people? When it benefits them, do I contribute something to my society’s welfare… or do I only pander to the sentiments of self-centred and obnoxious cunts? Would I have an easier time achieving my goals.. or  would I have an even harder time because of it?

How about my emotional health? Would I be just fine… or would I end up miserable because I care too much about other people’s feelings and care too little about mine?

Just be careful when others try to change you for the sake of giving you ‘dignities’.

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Moving Onward with Onward

*Spoiler alert for Onward……AND Finding Dory (Yes, really).*

Sadly, I am disappointed with it.

The premise itself is interesting: a teenager dealing with his own insecurity (I have a soft spot for such story) longing for a deceased loved one he has no memories of. It is obvious the problem lies on its execution.

It may has something to do with Manticore, a character that is crucial to the plot and yet treated as a comic relief. There is also something about the film that prevents me from emotionally immersing myself in it; I cannot blame its action-oriented and fast-paced narrative because many films, including other Pixar ones, can still be emotional despite being action-oriented and fast-paced. It feels like I am not given enough time to fully relate to the character.

The film is so forgettable, I forgot that I just watched a new Pixar film literally minutes after leaving the theatre.

But, Onward is still way better than Finding Dory.

As disappointed as it is, I have to commend Onward  for having a main character who actually moves onward with his life. Both Ian and Barley are excited to meet their temporarily-revived deceased father. But, amid the (self-inflicted) commotion during the climax, only one of them can meet him for a short while. Ian decided that Barley is more deserving of the one last meeting.

Why? Because, unlike Ian, Barley has actual memories of their father and Barley felt guilty for not giving a proper goodbye to when he was on his deathbed. Ian felt the experience would be more meaningful to his older brother.

Ian also realises his obsession about meeting their deceased father drove him into snubbing the wonderful time he has had with his brother. The list scratching scene near the climax is my favourite in the film.

Moving onward, indeed. The complete opposite of Finding fucking Dory.

If this story is simply about reliving her memories of her parents, then I would be just find. But, somehow, the story has to be about finding them alive! It would be better if they are dead!

Okay, I know I sound heartless. But, hear me out first (or read me out, I guess).

Obviously, there is nothing inherently wrong about wanting to find one’s parents. But, I hate how the film insists that Dory has to find them or else, the absence of family means she would never be emotionally fulfilled, forgetting that Marlin and Nemo are her fucking family; the film’s predecessor clearly shows how Marlin’s mere presence makes Dory feels at home!

Despite my disappointment, Onward‘s emotional maturity shows it is still a Pixar flick. Finding Dory feels more Disney-ish. Yes, I know Disney bought Pixar. But, you get the gist.

I actually don’t have a good reason to bring up Finding Dory. I just hate the film and I am using this opportunity to kick its groin.

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