Bring to Me Your Spoilers

I promise to not care

Now, when I say I won’t care I don’t mean it in a little kid “Idontcare” way, by which is meant the exact opposite.

I mean, it won’t ruin anything for me. It won’t make the movie, or the book, or whatever suck. You won’t make me sad or upset. In fact, you will have the exact opposite effect. The (hopefully) joy you get by being able to talk about a movie or a TV show without worry, in a genuinely, I hope, carefree fashion is a bit contagious. I pick up some of that too. Now, when I see it, I may not have your reaction, but why would I deny you that joy, or worse, make you feel bad about it just because I’m a selfish prick with a stunted imagination?

In addition, you’ll actually be giving me more reason to see the thing. Because now I can also see how well the story is crafted. How it is building to the big “spoiler”, and I will still enjoy that moment. Any “loss” of surprise will be more than made up for in the joy I will feel in a well-crafted (hopefully) movie or TV show or whatever. Because there are so many things to enjoy in it.

Look, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that probably everyone who will read these words has some familiarity with “Lord of the Rings”. By the time the Jackson movies came out, I’d read the books too many times to count, seen the Bakshi version over ten times, etc. There was nothing in that story you could surprise me with. So why even bother to see it? Because I wanted to see how Peter Jackson put those words on film. That was the stuff that couldn’t really be spoiled, because I’m the only person who can decide that for me.

As it turned out, my opinion on them was “meh”. But not because of “spoilers”.

Let’s look at a film I really do enjoy though: Star Trek II, The Wrath of Khan. It is safe to say I love this movie. I will watch the fuck out of it every time it is on. One of my favorite pieces of music is “Suprise Attack”, the score behind when Khan just rolls the Enterprise for its lunch money. I can go into bizarre detail on that movie. And the ending still has an emotional punch. (I’m a sucker for noble death scenes. The death of George Kirk in 2009’s Star Trek was the best thing I’d ever seen in any Trek film, shit, damned near in any film ever. The death of a character who’d always been a barely remembered name in everything but books by Diane Carey had me in tears. Holy fuckoly, JJ Abrams had the theater in tears over that death.)

But here’s something most people don’t know: I knew the plot before the movie came out. Friend of mine had managed to get it. I knew Spock died. All of it. I didn’t care. I still skipped school that day, took an F in a major project, I didn’t care. Guess what? Spock’s death was still a punch in the heart. Because Nicholas Meyer, (who, mind you, had barely even heard of Star Trek), managed to get the actors to be those characters in ways that no other director, not even The Nimoy ever managed.

Little details. Like Spock’s reaction to Scotty appearing on the bridge with his nephew’s body. That small closing of the eyes, that’s all Nimoy did, but that said more about what Spock was thinking and feeling in that situation than any monologue could have. Or, when Spock gives Kirk that famed analysis that Khan only really understands how to fight in two dimensions, Shatner does this tiny uptick with the corner of his mouth, a classic not-smile. But right then, you knew, Kirk was gonna win, because he’d just put the entire thing together in his head. Because no one out-fights James T. Motherfuckin’ Kirk.

Which then sets up losing Spock to be an even harder punch in the heart.

You can’t spoil that. It’s impossible. I’ve seen that movie over and over since 1982, and every time, every time, I have the same reaction to those moments.

You can’t spoil that kind of thing, and that is what I love in a movie. The little things. Shatner being Kirk. Sulu quietly setting up a firing solution on Reliant.

So no, I genuinely do not mind spoilers, because honestly, I’m not a small child. Surprise is not the only thing that matters. In truth, I’m happier to know. Because then I can enjoy the film on a much deeper level. I can then really appreciate the artistry.

So no, I won’t be seeing The Force Awakens on opening night, but by all means talk about it with me or around me, freely. You won’t be spoiling a goddamned thing.