"Guilty" pleasures - Why they say alot more about you than you think.

This week I would like to talk about guilty pleasures. Yes I am.

Now don’t get worried, I’m not talking about films like “Naughty Priests 2” or “Topless Tribal Women go WILD”, it’s films that are part of mainstream cinema, but are looked down upon. Or worse you feel ashamed to like.

Fit

I was inspired when speaking to my friend Sarah the other day. I was talking about the film “Clueless” - a film that I feel hasn’t been embraced by the masses as it perhaps should have been. It is witty and satirical - a reworking of “Emma”, but perhaps it is so on the money that people treat it as a product of the people they are commenting on. She admitted the film being a guilty pleasure. Whoa there. Now a lad feeling guilty about it I could understand, but for a girl to think that? Sexism aside, I was astounded. If I had a lads night in and suggested “Clueless” as a potential film to watch  I might as well of got my dick out and started swinging it about while making chicken noises - it would have been met with the same looks of disgust and confusion. But for a girl to feel guilty about liking such a thing – cripes.
But why was that?

I’m not going to get bogged down (too much) about whose fault it is that people should feel guilty about liking films. Is it societies for dictating what is “cool” or “acceptable”, or is it the individuals for perpetuating it? It’s beside the point to my argument, and me arguing about it in a blog which is read by about 50 people when there is probably no right or wrong answer would be a waste of everyone’s time.  Suffice to say it is a nasty habit we should look to banish for our own benefit. Perhaps I am taking this way to seriously, “What the clucking bell, does it matter you albino weirdo?” Well Mother, it matters because when in Rome…

That last bit doesn’t really make any sense, but it got you thinking anyway – perhaps I can make it fit by the end of the article. It matters because of this…

Once upon a time I was round a girl’s house (yo!), and some of her friends came over (yo!), and we decided to watch a film (no), I was outnumbered by a ratio of 4 to 1 by gender (yes I was the one), so they chose the film, despite my protests. Even more against my protests they chose “What Happens in Vegas” a rom-com about two people (Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher) who hook up for a drunken night in Vegas, get married, decide to split, but can’t when they win big on the slot machines and both decide they want it all. A judge won’t grant them the divorce, and in order to keep the money they have to act like a couple or get the other person to mess up in order to end up with the all the money. The prisoner’s dilemma it ain’t and upon learning the gist I let out an even more exaggerated groan.
How wrong I was…

“What happens in Vegas” is a delightful film! Oh how I laughed at the hijinks between dearest Cameron and Ashton. I giggled along like a little school girl and felt unfamiliar warmth in my black, dry heart.

This is how happy I felt. I'm Cameron

I got genuinely worried towards the end when things didn’t look too good for them and wished for them to eventually be together. I hoped that I wasn’t going to get any “pull the rug out from under your feet” moments and one turns out to be gay or something, so I let out a squeal of masculine joy when they did. The girls began by finding it hilarious how much I enjoyed the film, but their expressions soon became confused and full of concern when I would not stop going on about it two hours after it had finished. A lot like this...

 

What had I become? This was not the cool edgy cinema that I am supposed to like. There were no acts of extreme violence, no split screens and no Steve Buscemi.  Man oh man I felt guilty, a disgrace to my fellow film fanatics.

So what does that say about me then? Had I been in denial all this time? The bitter, cynical “man” I thought it was had been (slightly) dispelled. There was indeed a romantic buried inside me that I had clearly not given enough attention. So what effect did this have on me? Well, not much in terms of lifestyle, I still acted like a moron most of the time, and I inevitably mucked it up with that girl like so many others, but my eyes had been open to another genre of film I hadn’t seen before.
So now “What Happens in Vegas” has a special place in my heart. It was one of my comfort films. “A comfort film?!” I can hear some of my more manly friends shout (Savage), but yes a comfort film. It is the film that I stick on when I’ve had a particularly heavy night and I need Cameron and Ashton to come and gently carry me off to a wonderful world where everyone ends up happy and you get to look at Ashton’s abs repeatedly. Oh those chiselled abs have been there a lot more for me then my mother’s hugs of late….

Fit

Freudulent admissions and supressed homosexuality aside, it got me thinking, “well what else am I missing out on?” But looking very close to home I found that I had been enjoying guilty pleasures for a long time, but I just hadn’t admitted to myself.

“Star Wars: Episode V- The Empire Strikes Back” is my favourite film of all time. The only difference to “What Happens in Vegas” is I had embraced my inner geek, but I was still ashamed to admit it to other people. George Lucas would spin in his grave – if he were dead.

You may think my blog now is going to worm its way to a familiar and predictable conclusion, “watch more film guys, you could really like it”, and to a sense that is partly true.  Guilty pleasure films you usually discover by accident, someone will force you to watch it. Or it could be a movie from your childhood you’re not ready to let go of yet. Too many times have I recommended a film such as “How to Train a Dragon” or the aforementioned “What happens in Vegas” for it to be rebutted with much shock and hurt from myself, but I was missing the point of what a guilty pleasure should be. It’s my film that I like because it appeals to something inside me that perhaps others can’t see, so what others won't watch it, let alone like it. They are missing out. If they do like it, you found someone just as weird as you. Nice.

Therefore are guilty pleasures some of our more personal films and should be treasured accordingly? If others cannot see the inner beauty of a film that you can, then surely it should be embraced and hugged. Like your teddy when you were younger that was your best mate who taught you how to kiss. If you’d of given your dear Ted to someone else, they would not have appreciated it as much as you, they had their own teddy, which they had kissed. That teddy would say more about you then a teenage mutant hero turtle would because everyone had one.

My teddy "Pingu" after a "cuddle" session

Or it could be just you keep Ted in the corner, as a reminder of simpler, less stressful times. Guilty pleasures can take the form of films you still cherish from your childhood. Disney films have a much easier time than most films than dodging the guilty pleasure title (perhaps due to their quality), but even they can incite a snide comment.  Recently I went on a trip to Devon where the driver, Alex played Disney’s greatest hits. After a few moments of reservation I was soon bellowing out “I just can’t wait to be king”, and felt happier because of it.

Also (and not to get to bogged down in this because it does sound really gay) maybe your guilty pleasure does say a lot about you. Like me discovering I was a romantic, or Sarah discovering she had fashion heavy blonde girl inside her, it will allow you to appreciate parts of your character that you did not think were there. One of my friends Rachel felt guilty about liking “Requiem for a Dream”, because she in denial about liking such a depressing film – it’s ok to have a bit of morbid curiosity in you, that’s why people look at car crashes when they go past.  So if you do like Sister Act and there is a singing nun inside you, go and join the choir, church would have been a lot more fun with you.

 

Come on don't pretend you don't like it...

Maybe people hide their guilty pleasures because they do say much about you, more so than admitting to like the “Godfather” or “Scarface”, this is the stuff that makes you different from the rest. It’s ok to admit crying to “The Time Travellers Wife” (yeah I did, so what) because in the end it’s you, and maybe people want to protect themselves against showing any emotions some would consider undesirable. Unfortunately, you’re the only one who knows what you really want out of a film, so don’t make enjoying films hard for yourself by ruling out things you might like because you're worried what others think. When in Rome…

Didn’t really work did it?

Oh well, embrace the “guilty” pleasures everyone, will be a lot more fun. And don't make fun of others for liking certain films, they can't help it!

And for the record, some of my “guilty” pleasures:

Mrs. Doubtfire

Time Traveller’s Wife

Twilight (just the first one)

Pretty Woman

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)

Sex and the City (TV)

Mean Girls (cheers Jim)


Also (as an added bonus) if you're interesting in books and their creation, here is a great, informative blog that has a structure of writing that I could only dream of...

http://jamesloscombe.net/blog