Here’s some other things I love:

Nora Ephron.

Delia Ephron.

Tom Hanks.

Meg Ryan.

Parker Posey.

Greg Kinnear.

The Upper West Side.

Cafe Lalo.

New York in general.

Steve Zahn.

The Ephron interiors aesthetic.

The Ephron exteriors aesthetic.

Heather Burns.

Jean Stapleton.

New York in the fall.

Newly Sharpened Pencils.

Emails.

Nora Ephron and Delia Ephron again and five times over.

I’m not actually going to convince you that You’ve Got Mail is the greatest movie ever. I’m in a WhatsApp group with three other filmmakers who bang on about Christopher Nolan all day and I’m not going to suddenly make them believe that ‘Oppenheimer’ was only okay but ‘You’ve Got Mail’ is masterful.

But in my heart that's how I see it.

I was thirteen when it came out. It was back when the 90s were our culture, before it was the past. Remember that? We were IN IT. We were watching ‘Friends’ and ‘Frasier’ and ‘The Truman Show’ not because they were lauded but because they were the current thing.

Back then we all had taste. Maybe you liked Pearl Jam, maybe you liked Alanis Morissette or maybe you liked Korn. It all mattered somehow. What you liked was badge you would wear and it meant something bigger than the sum of its parts.

Or maybe it didn’t but I was fourteen and when you’re fourteen you feel like one day you’ll get stopped in the street and given a standing ovation for the things you like and you’ll be given some kind of award by the Prime Minister. “Best Award for being a Counting Crows Fan”. Something like that.

‘You’ve Got Mail’ hit me right in the pleasure centres of my brain. I was already tracking every single step that Tom Hanks was making with his career. He was my guy. He was everyone’s guy but given I was young and the world revolved around me I was convinced I was his biggest fan.

And I loved Meg Ryan.

But most of all I loved the Ephron sisters. Their writing. How relatable it was.

I always loved New York, even though I’d never been there. I loved the New York of the Godfather and of Frankie and Johnny and of Taxi Driver. But somehow, I needed the romantic ‘You’ve Got Mail’ version of NYC too.

Isn’t it funny how some films just resonate?

I know every line of dialogue. Every shot and sequence. If I’m feeling I need to see my best friend I can either meet my actual best friend for a coffee or I can watch ‘You’ve Got Mail’ and literally any moment, with any character will make me think YES, THESE ARE MY PEOPLE. THIS IS ME.

Why did You’ve Got Mail resonate so strongly?

As I said, I don’t actually believe it’s the greatest film ever. Not even close.

But for me, personally, it means something.

It’s more than that, though. This isn’t just an article about how ‘we have our favourites’.

YGM was doing more. It had a worldview. It framed what Nora and Delia Ephron felt was important about life. The characters were passionate about books, about their coffee orders, about matters of the heart. And it wasn’t cynical and it wasn’t Hallmark sappy.

This film is my happy place. In the WhatsApp group I mentioned - there’s some demented broken wannabe more masculine part of me that wishes I felt this way about ‘The Matrix’ or ‘Raging Bull’, but I prefer ‘You’ve Got Mail’.

What movie do you love the way I love ‘You’ve Got Mail’? (Let me know in the comments!)

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The truth is, I was not learning Italian. All I was doing was watching films like ‘Cinema Paradiso’ and ‘Malena’ and wishing I could understand them without subtitles. It’s a beautiful sounding language and I loved the idea of being able to speak it.

I downloaded Duolingo.

For a week or two, I had an incredible experience. I could finally speak Italian. “Io Mangio una mela,” I would say to anyone who came close to my personal space. “Vorrei un caffè, per favore,” I would say to the Italian owner of Papa Bagel, in East London.

But then, the cafe owner would say something back in the language. Something complex and difficult to understand, like ‘Come stai?” (how are you?) and I would be floored by the gaps in my knowledge.

I did a short Italian course at City Lit, and bought a few language learning books from Amazon.

Whenever I would meet other language learners, they would often have a great reason for learning. Such as:

“I want more job opportunities.”
”My boyfriend is Japanese and I don’t understand what he says to me.”
“I’m moving to France.”

My own reason and motivation was, “I like a few Italian movies.”

Over time, this motivation didn’t hold.

Luckily, Duolingo knew that I was lazy, easily bored, and lacking in academic capability. So every day, without fail, it would subtly and gently notify me that I need to do a lesson. The way it does this is really sweet — Duo ambushes you via phone notifications, emails, and insults from your friend Emma who you haven’t spoken to in five years but who happens to also be on Duolingo and has pressed a button in-app, shaming you for not doing your lesson. This is the notification you get at 11pm reminding you to not be pathetic.

And it worked.

Duolingo is the perfect mix of habit forming, behavioural addiction, and perceived shaming from your social network. It’s language learning with a gun to your head.

I’m four years into it and I’m still unable to hold a real conversation in Italian. The only way it has helped me was one meal in Bologna two years ago - when my wife was momentarily confused by a menu and I happened to be able to point out that ‘vongole’ means clams.

For the first two years, I paid for a subscription for ‘Super Duolingo’, and then for the past two years I used the ‘Family’ option, where a mix of actor and writer friends chipped in £15 each and we shared the subscription.

Each year, as it came time to renew, I’d message my friends to see if they want to continue, and then I’d renew the purchase.

But then Jessica quit.

“I’m not doing it, I’m quitting,” she said.

I was floored by the response. It never occurred to me that people could get out. I tried to pressure her into renewing and keeping up her streak, but she said no.

I felt many things but mostly, it was jealousy. Someone had managed to quit Duolingo. I went to Google and my searches confirmed it: other people have quit too.

So I dramatically messaged the four friends who were waiting for me to renew the subscription and announced:

I’m quitting Duolingo. Giving up my 1680 day streak, and returning to the living.

None of them have responded. They’re too deep in the addiction and they don’t realise how much they’re suffering in their lives. In time, they’ll have to figure things out for themselves.

Goodbye, Duolingo. Finalmente sono libero.

Fifty six minutes later, he was invited into Leonard’s office, which was almost as big as Grand Central Station. ‘I like your writing,’ said Leonard, with about as much enthusiasm as someone with very little enthusiasm, ‘but the violent mugging scene isn’t believable, and the rest of the book depends on it.’ Luke knew he was right. His only experience of a mugging was when his sister’s best friend, Paula, stole his Hanson CD twenty three years prior, and only gave it back after a steep ransom.

‘It needs energy, it needs realism. It needs pain. This is a moment that changes his life,’ said Leonard.

‘That’s why I used the words ‘torment’ and ‘agony,’ offered Neff.

‘I don’t buy it. You need to fix it.’

‘I agree.’

‘What are you doing tonight?’

‘Seeing friends.’

‘You don’t have any friends.’

‘I’ll start tonight.’

‘You’ll finish tonight. I’m showing it to Stone tomorrow afternoon.’

Neff knew instantly that this was impossible, which is precisely why he agreed to do it and promised to have a new draft with him by the morning. Richard Leonard was famous for pulling shit like this, and Neff was famous for nothing, which is why he decided to do as he was told.

He sat in front of his typewriter for two hours without doing a thing. Probably because the typewriter was broken and had been for eight years. Neff liked sitting in front of it because it made him feel like a writer, whereas his laptop made him feel like an underachiever, as did most things. How the hell was he going to write a realistic mugging?

Braggard lurched awkwardly against the wall, as the mugger swiped the documents from under Braggard’s nose. The mugger turned back towards him and smashed him in the face with a hefty punch, which was painful.

A book published by Leonard & Stone was the key to all his dreams, but it could disappear in a matter of hours. Maybe the mugger could be carrying a gun and shoot Braggard, he thought. Neff went with this idea for a while, before realising it would compromise the next chapter, where Braggard wins an Olympic gold medal. It’s time to give up, he figured; everything I write is pathetic. Maybe the kids who live on the Fretton Estate down the road should write the story, they’re great at robbing people of their belongings.

He was suddenly inspired. He closed his laptop and immediately reached for his coat. Four minutes later he was entering Fretton Estate and flashing his expensive wristwatch which was a gift from his ex-girlfriend, Cassie Whipp. He turned and headed immediately down Fretton Lane, better known as Death Lane to the locals. He looked around, determined to be robbed at knifepoint. This was the key to getting his creative juices flowing. He looked around – nobody was there. A good sign, he figured, something is definitely going to go down.

He heard footsteps behind him. YES! This is it. A young guy who can’t have been older than fifteen stopped him in his tracks and said, ‘do you realise you’re walking down Death Lane at eleven at night?’

‘Yes. I fancied a walk,’ said Neff.

‘Give me your money.’

He thought about it and decided against it. To just hand over the money would be the end of the ordeal, which wouldn’t exactly bring out his inner-Shakespeare. ‘I need the money to buy my girlfriend a present,’ said Neff.

‘Shut the fuck up and give me your money.’

Neff was only fractionally frightened, but it was an improvement. Things were bound to get worse when a giant-of-a-man stepped out suddenly from behind a van.

The giant was holding a knife. He turned to the teenager, ‘Leave the guy alone,’ said the giant-of-a-man, ‘He didn’t mean to come down here and he needs the money for his girlfriend.’

‘Wow, that’s very kind of you,’ said Neff.

‘If we ever see you down here again, this knife here is going right through your fucking body.’

Neff was petrified, which in turn made him absolutely delighted, which confused the two men as Neff had a beaming smile on his face.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ asked the not so friendly giant, which snapped him back into reality.

‘I did. Thank you.’

‘Get the fuck out of here,’ said the little one. And Luke Neff was swiftly gone.

Braggard came to the sudden realisation that his life was at risk. Two masked gunmen held their weapons to his face. His head began to sweat, his hands began to shake, and it dawned on him that he may never see his children again.

Braggard took his wallet out of his pocket and handed it to the men, and then made his way to Olympic archery training.

It was an improvement. But the second paragraph was pathetic. He glanced at his bookshelf, wondering if there was anything he could steal. Nothing came to mind. The writing was still not good enough and there was no way Richard Leonard would publish something with such a weak middle section. Neff stared out of the window, bitterly disappointed with his limitations as a writer. He could only nail it perfectly when it was something he had been through – which is why his short stories had been published seventeen times on guyswhocantgetgirls.com. He sat down with a small coffee and came to the sad but true realisation: he would not be able to write something he did not have any experience of.

Neff stepped out into the night again and strode valiantly into Death Lane. He had a confident posture and a gleam in his eyes that said I am going to write the best book you’ve ever seen! He gasped for air desperately as a blade suddenly ripped through his clothes and plummeted into his back. His life hurtled through his mind as he found himself spinning and falling and suffocating. His head smacked down on the ground as the giant-man and little teenager sprinted off into the distance.

Some time later, his eyes gradually opened – he made out the blurry figure of a streetlight. A pain ripped through his entire body. He could barely move, but barely was enough to move his left leg and push himself up onto the curb. For the first time in his life, he was conscious of his breathing, probably because it wasn’t happening. He tried to stay calm, hoping that his breathing issues were partly based on anxiety - which with Neff was always likely. A crazy thought popped into his head despite the pain and oxygen struggles: I can make my way home. I can use this in my novel.

He gulped down a glass of water the second he got home. An insight, true or not, had come to his awareness; I am not going to die. He knew that if a writer is not dead, then they must continue their work. He sat down by his laptop and took a large, and painful breath.

The masked gunman stepped towards Braggard, who turned around, startled. The gunman smacked him in the chest with the corner of his gun. Braggard thumped down on the floor and felt a jolt of death ripple painfully through his body. He thought of Cassie, his High School sweetheart, with her golden blonde hair and mild disdain for his personality. The gunman continued to beat him, leaving Braggard for dead, but still with an outside chance of making the Olympics.

Luke was delighted with the paragraph. It had pain, it had truth, it even had emotion and a glint of the character’s romantic past. He smiled to himself, and continued writing.

The gunman then reached into Braggard’s pocket and took his phone, wallet, and documents. This was bad news for Braggard, who needed the documents for the Olympic committee.

Neff sat there despondently. Partly because of the awful writing, and partly because the right side of his body was numb and the left side of his body was leaking blood. Neff had two options. One was to phone an ambulance and save his life, the other was to keep typing away at the keyboard in the hopes of finishing what could end up being his one-book-legacy, given how quickly his body was giving up on him. Should he call for an ambulance? Or should he remain in the warmth of his own home and finish his work? He knew what he had to do next.

Minutes later, he stood at the end of Death Lane – again - staring down the street. He’d always been a believer in positive thinking and visualisation. He felt a sense of calmness, ease, and joy due to his inner belief that the giant man and teen would definitely steal his belongings this time. That was all he needed to finish his story.

They couldn’t believe their eyes. ‘Is that really him, back for more?’ asked the unusually large one.

“Let’s finish him off,” said the nervous teen.

“You’re so violent.”

“He might call the police,”

“Let’s talk to him,” said the giant.

Neff stumbled forward, gripping on to a nearby lamppost – it was the only thing that was going to keep him standing.

“Why are you back?” asked the giant-man.

“Am I meant to be afraid of you?” said Neff.

“You’re not looking very good. You should go home.”

“I think you’re scared of me.”

“Scared of you? We nearly killed you.”

“For no reason. You didn’t take my wallet or anything.”

The giant brutally hit Neff, who fell to the ground, cracking his skull on the road. He was out cold.

He came around, eventually. He was surprised to be alive, but more than anything; he was concerned that he didn’t have enough material for his novel. He reached with his right arm to feel for his wallet. Actually, his arm didn’t move, it was broken. Instead he began screaming, due to the dull pang of horror that shuddered through the underside of his arm. The pain was too much to bear – but he fought on, and managed to figure out where his left arm was and how to use it. The wallet was gone. The watch was gone.

As the documents were ripped from Braggard’s hands – the sensation of scorching pain screamed through his body and soul. The last thing he expected to feel at this moment was loneliness, but that’s what he felt. Laying there in the middle of the dark alleyway, he felt the same loneliness as when Cassie left for University, and the same loneliness as when his Father disowned him all those years ago. When someone takes your possessions in the dark of night --- you are one thing, alone. But you are comforted by the fact that it’s something you know extremely well.

Richard Leonard stepped out into the foyer and looked at the receptionist. “Have you seen Luke Neff?” he asked. She pointed to the sofa, where a man, somewhat similar to Neff, was sitting in a daze; looking like he’d just escaped a large explosion.

“Everything okay, Luke?” asked Leonard.

“I’ve written the pages.”

“Are you OK?”

“I’ve done the fucking pages,” whispered Neff.

They were in his office. Luke didn’t even remember walking in there. Maybe he’d blanked out for a bit. “I have good news,” said Leonard, “we’re going to publish this baby. We love it.”

“We really do,” said a woman who appeared from nowhere and looked exactly like a high powered lawyer from an American TV show, “it’s a masterpiece.”

Somehow, from somewhere, Luke Neff managed a smile. He’d made it. This was his moment.

“One thing though,” explained Leonard, “We’re going to go with the original version after all. Thanks for trying, but the new draft is a little too realistic for our liking.”

He sat there in silence. There was a buzzing in his ears and the vague chance that he hadn’t heard what Richard Leonard had just said. Either way – he was now a published author.

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Toddler: Yes.

Me: You can sit through the whole thing?

Toddler: I can sit for the first twenty two minutes, which is actually quite an achievement.

Me: And then what?

Toddler: I’ll eat all the popcorn.

Me: I didn’t buy any popcorn.

Toddler: I found some on the floor.

Me: Stop eating that I brought some of your favourite snacks.

Toddler: I don’t want those I want to go and annoy the two people in the back row.

Me: The last thing they want is to be interrupted by a toddler.

Toddler: Too late and I’m now screaming in their faces.

Me: Please focus on the film.

Toddler: I thought I was banned from screentime?

Me: Yes but cinema is different.

Toddler: How come?

Me: Because I said so. Please don’t climb over the back of that chair.

Toddler: But I want to face the people in the row behind and yell “yo yo yo yo”.

Me: Why?

Toddler: Don’t know hey I need to make a hole in the screen.

Me: Why?

Toddler: To see if I can make a hole.

Me: I can’t let you do-- hey how did you get to the screen so fast?

Toddler: I’m quicker than you. Hey this popcorn is really good.

Me: From the floor?

Toddler: From that family in the fifth row.

Me: Wait - stop moving - did you just poop?

Toddler: Yep.

Me: I need to change your nappy.

Toddler: Nope.

Me: I need to.

Toddler: No.

Me: Why not?

Toddler: A movie is playing.

Me: Oh, now you’re interested.

Toddler: There’s a car chase and a helicopter.

Me: Okay let’s focus on the movie. Finally.

Toddler: Great idea. I’m liking this film. Wait, I need to run outside.

Me: Where are you?

Toddler: I’m outside. Enjoy the movie.

Me: Wait!

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Just before I hit send, I decided to have a quick look on X (formerly known as a website that people actually used), to see if the general sentiment was in agreement with my position. Unfortunately, I saw numerous posts suggesting the ban is a great idea, and will save many thousands of children from harm.

The argument of these people is that the internet is full of misinformation and ill-formed opinions. Realising this, I wrote a strongly worded Facebook status, praising the government and saying that Keir Starmer is a national treasure.

To my dismay, an argument broke out in the comments where people from both sides of the political divide got involved. Those hating Starmer said he’s the worst Prime Minister of all time, and those who are more politically aligned with Sir Keir said “no comment” and refused further questioning.

Researching this topic gave me a small headache so I decided to put down my phone and instead learn about it the old way, by reading about the topic, in print, in today’s newspaper. On my way to buy a newspaper I forgot my reason for leaving the house and began to scroll through my TikTok feed. I saw a very convincing argument suggesting that the government ban is just a ploy to keep the population poor, dumb and broke. Convinced by this influencer’s knowledge, I enrolled in his online masterclass and bought a collection of his ebooks via TikTok shop.

Regardless of your opinions on banning young people from social media, one thing we can agree on is that it’s absolutely absurd that they’re including YouTube in the legislation. YouTube is a place for sharing videos, and is not social media --- that’s exactly what I wrote in the comment section of a video. A bunch of people wrote back, disagreeing, at which point I angrily messaged them back, explaining why they’re wrong. One of the commenters was in such disagreement with my point of view that he suggested we meet up to discuss it in person, which is why I’m driving to his house as we speak.

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It was at this point that two young women passed me and -- noticing that I am an older, distinguished, and likely knowledgeable film lover, mentioned that the Lord of the Rings trilogy is the greatest trilogy ever made. I made a small indecipherable gesture and said ‘maybe it would be in my top five’.

If it was to be in my top five, it would be a miraculous achievement, given that I’ve not seen a single second of anything to do with the Lord of the Rings.

My only relation to the Lord of the Rings universe is that one time many years ago, my friend Debra was in a play, and I uncharacteristically stayed for drinks afterwards, which is when I got talking to a lovely fellow who seemed absolutely fascinated by my every word.

It was only after he left, that my friend Debra said it was great that I’d made friends with such a well known actor. Turns out this guy played a key character in The Hobbit, and many people at the party were desperate to meet him, but unfortunately I’d kept him locked in a conversation all night without having any idea who he was.

After the two young women realised the gaping hole in my film knowledge, they trundled back over to their boyfriends, and almost immediately I bumped into a bearded gentleman who, to most, would appear friendly — but I could sense the hostile reality that he knew every film ever made, with special attention given to those I had never even heard of. We’d barely said hello before he mentioned that the “Cinema of Transgression is still underrated to this day.” I nodded, not quite understanding, but still managed to utter, “that’s definitely true in many ways.”

Luckily the evening moved on and at one point I heard an utterance from the kitchen where a guy with a ponytail said, “The View Asknewiverse is an important part of film history.” Yes! They were talking about Kevin Smith movies and this is something I happen to know plenty about.

I arrived in the kitchen with a smile on my face, ready to tackle the inner workings of the Kevin Smith Empire. With a kind friendliness, sensing my wish to be involved, the ponytail man’s friend, who we’ll call Bald Derek, courageously invited me into the conversation:

“What do you make of the ending of Tenet?” He asked.

I am in three film-lover related WhatsApp groups. In each of them, it’s agreed that Christopher Nolan is the most important director working today. It’s crucial to have a big understanding of Nolan’s oeuvre.

Unfortunately, I can never remember which one is ‘Tenet’ and which one is ‘Inception’. Not only did I fail to understand the endings of both, I also struggled to grasp the beginnings. I have the unfortunate issue of claiming to be a writer and a filmmaker whilst having very little working knowledge of Christopher Nolan.

I mumbled something about the ending of Tenet meaning something different to everyone, and then I suggested we have a conversation about which is better, Sprite or 7up. After this conversation swerve failed to light a spark, I retired back to the living room where I nodded along to a thirty minute conversation about Alien and Predator, before slipping out the front door and getting the bus home.

It’s impossible to go to the cinema without a feeling of deep nostalgia. Maybe not if you go to a swanky ‘Everyman’ while you sip on your wine and snuggle up on a deep sofa - but that’s not what I’m really talking about.

I’m talking about that rescued multiplex with 1980s carpet and an ever dwindling customer base.

I went to see the new Spielberg film on the opening night and it was just me and six other people. A genius titan of the film world releases a new movie but the world doesn’t notice. The people don't flock here. Not anymore.

So you feel a sense of, ‘I remember how this used to be’ and it’s inexplicably linked to ‘I remember who I used to be.’

You sit in the cinema in the dark at 9pm on a Wednesday and you remember so many things about yourself, and about this art form you love. The popcorn and the carpet and the battered old seats feel like home. Because they are home. They’re who you were and who you are.

But the world is on TikTok and Netflix and you don’t really know what this movie house means anymore. Is it just a relic? Are you just revisiting an old girlfriend, the house you grew up in, or is this really part of who you are now, today?

I saw ‘Backrooms’ and ‘Obsession’ and I felt good about film in a way I hadn’t in some time.

But this building is still so darn empty.

And they’re renting out the screens for dance classes and séances and support groups, because they draw more people than the movies do.

When I’m here and loving a movie, I wonder why I ever stopped doing this.

Not that I ever truly stopped. But one day I loaded a film up on Amazon Prime and doomscrolled Instagram and a decade went by.

There’s nothing better than sitting down with that big beautiful screen in front of you as you munch on hopefully fresh popcorn. But this isn’t the thing it was, it’s different now. It’s niche. And you can’t be certain this building you love will still be here tomorrow.

But it’s essential.

Especially for you, because you love movies.

You just don’t always remember that you do.

But, to me personally, he was Dawson. I mean that as a compliment - I admire his other work but for me, ‘Dawson’s Creek’ touched my life in a way few shows do.

Us boys were not meant to like Dawson’s Creek. It was a soap opera. It was dramatic and emotional and the cool kids were watching anything other than this.

But to me, it was everything.

I learned about friendship through this show. I learned about girls. Of course, I had to unlearn everything the show taught me, because being a Dawson is not attractive in the real world.

That being said, I can’t understate how influential this character was to me.

The kid who had dreams and aspirations to break out of his hometown and become a film director, I related to it. His obsession with seeing his life as a series of storylines. Of romanticising the people and places that pass through his life. That was me.

This show came along at such a specific time in my life -- when I was a similar age to the characters -- and it gave me a sense of meaning, an emotional centre that I still carry to this day.

Dawson wasn’t perfect. And with each rewatch, he kind of becomes weirder and more annoying. But I love the guy. Van Der Beek portrayed a character who spoke to a generation, became a cultural landmark that anyone who was a teenager in the 90’s knows about.

To this day, any time I’m losing heart, forgetting the truest parts of myself, I put on an episode of the Creek. The best episodes for me are often ones where Dawson is pursuing his filmmaking dream. Or pursuing Joey Potter. It’s no coincidence that I ended up with a brunette from a small town in America. Dawson never got the girl so I had to make sure I did, to balance things out in the world.

Dawson is a fictional character, written first by Kevin Williamson, and then many others. But it was carried and portrayed by James Van Der Beek. And what he did, means a huge amount, to millions of people.

He was just 48.

And as is always the case with the artists we admire, we think they’ll live forever.

James was not much older than me. To think he’s gone, it doesn’t make sense. I didn’t know him personally yet somehow, through seeing his face constantly for close to three decades, the loss feels personal.

Rest in Peace, James. Thanks for the memories.

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Parents of murdered babies appear as ‘digitally anonymised’ versions of themselves, as does a buddy of Lucy Letby. Digitally Anonymised is a polite way of saying “FAKE AI!”

The film focuses on one of the most horrific serial killer cases in modern British history. The murders and attempted murders of numerous children in a British hospital. It’s understandable that the people involved in the case - especially victims, want to be protected through anonymity. But the filmmakers decided to use TRULY BIZARRE renderings of the people they interviewed.

They DON’T LOOK LIKE HUMANS!

They COULDN’T EVEN SYNC THE VOICES TO THEIR WEIRD UNCANNY FACES!

When the mother of a baby who was killed is being interviewed on camera, where I’d normally be feeling empathy or sadness or understanding, instead I’m completely disconnected emotionally because THE INTERVIEWEE HAS A WEIRD BALLOONING FACE, it looks like THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE MORPHED INTO A NEARLY HUMAN.

And then even when they do film and interview humans who are presented in their true human form, the interviews are weirdly stilted and unnatural. NOBODY IN THIS DOCUMENTARY TALKS LIKE A REAL HUMAN!

Maybe the police officers and expert witnesses and medical consultants scripted out their answers and then spoke from an autocue. Or perhaps they were heavily directed on how to respond. Either way - NOTHING FEELS REAL OR HUMAN IN THIS DOC!

It’s positively baffling.

The film is tonally WEIRD, nothing feels real. The devastating truth of this case is presented in such a bizarre way that it’s near impossible to fully take in what’s happening. At times, the AI-faced interviewees are so STRANGE that it literally makes you laugh.

WHAT!

Never did I expect nor want to laugh during a Lucy Letby documentary but wow, this film truly is a unique original. Awful.

We can't stop AI, it's here and it's infiltrating everything. But in a documentary like this, the humanity of the people involved needs to be protected. If you need to blur faces, or change voices, or use actors, it's understandable. But the way AI is used here is insulting to everyone involved in the case. We are listening to the horrific testimony and views of those involved, but what we're seeing with our own eyes is not human, it's just plain weird and unsettling and it undermines the documentary, making nothing seem real.

I have these discussions with my friends all the time where we ask each other - is it still art if it’s AI? Will it ever reach the point where we don’t know if it’s real or not?

Well, I think this film is real. As in, I think they’re real actors. Who knows anymore?

But you have to watch this short because it’s incredibly funny and relatable. And it captures where we’re at now, with society and AI, and it does it in two minutes.

I love that this is a short film. It could so easily have just been a TikTok. But here, presented in short film form, it works so well - and gives me hope for the format (at a time when so many people, and often myself, are thinking that the Short Film is dead as an art form).

NEWS

It’s impossible to get reliable news now. Everyone is fighting to shape the meaning of events as they happen, there’s nobody out there who can present it in black and white without telling us what to believe.

We all watched the same video of Renee Good yet nobody knows what actually happened. Liberal media is certain she was just turning the vehicle to the right. Conservative media is certain Renee was an aggressive agitator using her car as a weapon.

You can’t watch that video without hearing the voices of everyone online explaining to you what it is you saw. It's only a few seconds long, with so much context missing, yet we all proclaim to be experts.

The government have already decided the meaning. How weird is that? A person is killed and instead of letting the police figure it out, you have the Vice President at a podium.

Where can we get real, non-biased news from?

SOCIAL MEDIA

Yes, you’re obsessed with social media and so am I. But --- not as much as we were six years ago. X no longer exists as a serious platform. If you still open the app it’s only because of muscle memory.

Instagram used to have your friends and family. Now, it’s just a bunch of ‘influencers’ telling you how to live a better life.

Their lives are not better than yours. How do I know? Because of how much they’re online!

Somewhere along the way we were taught that success is posting selfies from Dubai. Turns out happiness is sitting at home with a lamp on, reading an old novel.

Social media is still prevalent but it’s losing its grip on people. We check the apps out of habit, but we’re no longer engaged.

MOVIES

I actually think movies are getting better. In the peak ‘woke’ era, people were afraid to tell stories. People got petrified and the only things being made were stories that had the ‘correct’ points of view. People were too afraid of online criticism that they got scared to have an edge. To say something that could be perceived the wrong way.

Now I feel like things are changing. Films are finding their groove. You can go to the cinema and be pleasantly surprised.

We want the diversity; we want films that come from all types of voices, but the creatives need to feel free to tell stories without shushing themselves.

I'm not saying it should be the Wild West, but that for too long now people have been second guessing themselves in order to play it safe.

TV SERIES

They’re bland. We get excited every now and again by something, but most TV now is like most coffee shops. They have different names, but inside they’re all the same.

We are not in a golden age of TV. There is no new ‘Sopranos.’ ‘Pluribus’ was fun for a few episodes but just when you think you have a new favourite show, it hits you with a ton of filler episodes.

And every week there’s a new crime drama that’s exactly like the last one.

Problem is, the stakes are lower now. When Netflix gave us ‘House of Cards’ we were ready to be amazed. We craved greatness.

Now we see the red Netflix logo and we deem a show a success if it holds our attention. ‘Second Screen Viewing’ became a buzz term, where shows are made that give us some background viewing while we scroll through TikTok.

AI

AI has already changed everything. Those who oppose it are being left in the shadows, because pretty much the entirety of culture is being shaped through it.

Your boss is running his ideas through Copilot. Your friends are getting advice on how to talk to you by pasting your messages into their AI therapy threads. And creators of TV shows are turning to it for plot twists.

The main problem with AI is that it’s very good. It can do everything. And once you get hooked, you rely on it.

Take an article like this one. It’s honest, it’s first draft-y, it’s opinionated --- and it may be good or it may be terrible, I don’t know. This is a good thing, because it’s vulnerable! But there’s the temptation to run it through Chat GPT and say ‘is this any good?’

The advice it would give, would be solid. It would improve the structure and improve the points I’m making. But would it actually be me, anymore?

And then what happens when everyone is writing everything with the help of AI? We would never get another Jack Kerouac, or Van Morrison. Everything, over time, would become the same. Not because AI spits out the same material, but because we'll all be outsourcing our judgement to a robot.

BOOKS

Books remain brilliant.

Your brain forgets this.

Books seem slow. Our attention can no longer work to their pace.

But it’s worth fighting for.

Because sitting down, reading a few chapters of a book, it improves your mental health, your breathing, your intelligence, your imagination.

ALGORITHMS

Algorithms are the opposite of books.

With a book, you decide what you want to read and then you sit with it for days, weeks or months.

The algorithm is not something you choose. You log onto YouTube thinking you want to watch a video about canoes but then the algo leads you to a strongly opinionated piece about Venezuela. And you don’t even realise you lost all free will and decision making in the process.

Algorithms are truly ruining our brains. Used to be you’d sprint down to your local record store because the band you love had a record out. Now, you exhaustedly open Spotify and you’re served a personalised mix of AI music and you don’t even know it’s AI.

Instagram and Tiktok are taking hours out of your day. You know more about right-wing politics and Manchester United’s manager search than you knew was possible, but all you really wanted to do was log on to Insta to see pictures of your niece’s birthday.

The algorithm is shaping how we are entertained, how we process politics, and how we communicate with our friends. We are no longer controlling these things ourselves.

PODCASTS

Podcasts are great if you can find your way to the right ones.

But for the most part, we’re just using them to pass time. To help us on the commute.

You try new shows every few days but tend to return to your safe favourites.

In theory, podcasts can help you listen to an endless array of voices and ideas on every topic you’ve ever been interested in. But do you really manage to make the most of it or do you tend to just listen to that thing which helps you get through your gym session?

PROPAGANDA

This takes us back to the topic of news. Most people are no longer reading news articles. They get their knowledge of the world from whatever WhatsApp videos they receive within their echo chamber.

Whether you lean left or right, you’re receiving videos about how the other side are evil.

The dehumanisation of ‘others’ is as big as its been in my lifetime. Want to be racist? Someone has twenty videos to send you to prove it’s the right way to be.

Those videos you’re receiving in WhatsApp groups are not news, they’re not even opinions, they’re propaganda. Eventually, we’re going to get bored of convincing ourselves that the other side is stupid. It doesn’t heal anything, doesn’t make us grow, it just makes the anger stronger.

We no longer hear the opinions, ideas and knowledge of experts, nor of ordinary well-meaning people. The internet has put the fringe cases front and centre. Crazies against crazies, with all of us watching videos on social media, while texting our friends saying ‘did you see this!?’

SUMMARY

We’re in strange times. People want to know the truth, but either they can’t find it, or they’re captured by social media savvy zealots.

I don't think any of us wake up, planning to be enraged. By Tiktok and YouTube and CNN/Fox News thrive on you being offended.

Truth is, there's a lot to be offended by, but not enough time to really think through what we're witnessing. So instead, we pick a side and double down on believing that everything that our side says is the gospel truth.

It's an attention economy. I'm convinced we'd all be better off shutting down and reading some books, but I'm also aware that's the idealised, nostalgic version of me talking. The truth is, we're different now. We don't read, or watch, we consume. We're hungry, and they keep feeding us.

We go to the gym for our bodies, we eat greens for our digestive systems, but what are we doing for our brains?

In recent times - instead of the typical crime documentaries I’ve been more inclined to watch police bodycam videos on YouTube. Channels like Code Blue Cam release mostly unedited videos of traffic stops, arrests etc, filmed from the body cams of police officers.

When Netflix first started pumping out the crime docs, it seemed revolutionary. Everyone was gripped by ‘Making of a Murderer’ and ‘Tiger King’.

But then came all the bad documentaries, like ‘The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel’. Four episodes of talking to detectives and random web sleuth crazies --- a four episode arc made up entirely of filler episodes. At the very end, we find out the girl wasn’t murdered, she just accidentally drowned in the Water Tank.

I sympathise with the girl who drowned but, despite the loss, it didn’t need to be a documentary.

And that’s what we’ve all learned in recent years. Most of this crimes don’t need a six part series, you can have more fun just reading the Wikipedia page.

I love documentaries but I love them when they actually go after something. Like Michael Moore banging on doors, or the original ‘Catfish’ documentary when they were obsessed with finding the truth. Or ‘Icarus’, when they uncovered how cyclists were doping in real time.

Or, if you’re going to make a crime doc, give us CCTV footage. Give us the suspect interviews. Don’t put a retired Sheriff in an artsy looking diner and make him reconstruct everything that happened 32 years ago while simultaneously having shots of him driving around the neighbourhood looking pensive. That’s not a documentary, it’s just a waste of time.

‘The Perfect Neighbour’ is fascinating because it’s made up almost entirely from police bodycam footage. This film barely needs a director, it just needs a good editor. The footage is so fascinating! You can just let the story tell the story!

The documentary tells the story of a woman, Susan Lorincz, who seemingly woke up one morning when she was in her 60’s and decided to begin a vendetta against her neighbours; calling the police on them every five minutes, complaining that the kids were being nuisances and threatening her.

Time and again, the police turn up, find that nothing criminal is happening, and leave.

There’s also a brief scene somewhere else in town where Lorincz drives through a locked gate for no reason and the police question her about the incident.

Then some bigger things happen but I can’t tell you them all because I’d rather you to watch the thing.

But things escalate, and it all plays out on police bodycams.

After the main incident, there’s a lot of unrest in the neighborhood; and for a while, you figure there’s not going to be justice. And you sense the documentary’s angle/viewpoint on race, on policing, on gun control.

And while it does have a point of view, it doesn’t overcook it. It primarily lets the incident and the police/courts do the talking. It’s fascinating.

There’ll be other documentaries like this. Seeing real people, in real moments, filmed on a crappy bodycam is far more interesting that a polished piece with tons of interviews and analysis.

At times you feel like you’re seeing far too much. The film reels you in at first because it seems almost comical.

But then tragedy happens and you watch a family get told they’ve lost someone and the camera is so close you literally feel like you’re a part of the family. I’d say it’s a breach of privacy but I assume the family gave permission.

There’s so much more I could say but if I do, then there’ll be no point in you watching it on Netflix.

If you like crime docs that get to the point and show you the important stuff as it happens, this is the film for you.

If you prefer films with reconstructions and multiple episodes and drag and delay tactics, then this one isn’t for you.

True Crime can be fascinating. I think ‘The Staircase’ is one of the best things ever made. But in recent years, the crime show formula has worn thin.

‘The Perfect Neighbour’ breathes new life into the genre.

It would be silly to be shocked. Nobody watches it. And honestly, I’m not sure I ever did watch MTV.

Maybe once every four years I’d be flicking through the channels, hear a song I liked and stick around for fifteen minutes. But it was not a regular occurrence.

Even so, MTV was a part of the culture. “MTV Unplugged” was such a treat back in the day. You thought you knew Oasis, but then Noel Gallagher sat down and did an acoustic set and you were blown away by his brilliance. Even The Corrs did an MTV Unplugged and it was fantastic. Bands came alive by appearing on the show and breaking their songs down to the bare essentials.

Rod Stewart’s unplugged set is genius and I honestly think it’s one of the greatest live albums of all time.

The legend of MTV, it’s place in the culture, is what makes it important. Something can exist in our heads as crucial even though, honestly, it no longer plays a part in our current lives. MTV continued, in the background, and there was comfort in knowing it was there -- like some aging relative who lives in a faraway town who never seems to actually die. That was MTV, and now it’s ending.

Their reality TV channel is, for the time being, going to survive. And for younger people today - if they do know MTV - it’s probably because they watched ‘Catfish’. But even that show is now canceled and who knows how long the channel will last.

As for the music channels, it’s amazing they lasted as long as they did. Music Videos have been irrelevant for some time now. If a song is three minutes long, who has the attention span to watch the accompanying video? Years ago the music video was a great place for talented filmmakers to show their cinematic vision. But now if you want your song to hit, you’ve gotta get on a Spotify playlist or even better, you’ve got to go viral on TikTok.

But you don’t go viral for having a good music video. You go viral because 10 seconds of your song catches the public’s imagination and gets reused in hundreds of thousands of videos. That’s how I discovered Olivia Dean, someone was lip syncing to one of her tracks and I thought she sounded amazing.

MTV was once central to the culture. Their audience was young, full of energy, and music was king.

In recent decades, they jumped the shark. Moved from music to reality TV as the core focus. They did it because they had to find a way to survive.

MTV has, in its modern state, been irrelevant for a long time. Yet, you still think someone is kind of cool if you see them in an MTV shirt. They’re not wearing it because they watch ‘Catfish’. They wear it because MTV meant something. Because there was a time when we all came together because we loved music.

As for TV, nobody is watching. Primetime on TV in the UK - that golden 9pm slot - gets less than a million views now. We got comfortable saying “it’s all about streaming these days”, but when was the last time a Netflix show knocked your socks off?

You joined Facebook to see your friends updates. But now, according to Meta’s own data, only 17% of what you see on their site is content from people you’re connected with.

X, which you wish was still Twitter, is now a right wing propaganda machine, and it’s practically pay to play. You might have 2000 followers but unless you pay for a blue tick, maybe only twelve people are seeing your tweets.

Instagram used to be a platform for sharing photographs. But now they’re pumping out video reels from strangers and if you’re hoping to see pictures of your friends and family you can forget it, because that’s not what you’re being shown.

I started You’ve Got Media, thinking I would write freely about films and TV and even social media but, it’s only after I started that I realised -- nothing in the media is anything like we think it is. I wasn't sure what it actually is I'm meant to be writing about. The entire culture is changing before our eyes.

How do you even get the news these days? Do you trust the legacy media, or do you trust the conspiracists?

Maybe you chose to trust ‘The Free Press’, the news source started by Bari Weiss after she left the New York Times. But now this supposedly free thinking independent news source has been bought out by Paramount for $150million.

What upcoming movies are you excited about?

What TV show from this year have set your soul on fire?

When did you last have a fun heartwarming experience on Twitter?

Nothing is the way we think it is.

As for TikTok, it’s not even human beings posting content anymore! Most of what I see is footage made in Sora 2, we’ve got Queen Elizabeth II body slamming Stephen Hawkin, and we’ve got Freddie Mercury singing about AI and we’ve got Martin Luther King being arrested for speeding.

And we’re ACTUALLY WATCHING THIS STUFF and sharing it with friends.

A lot of us still want to read books but don’t have the discipline to turn two pages without picking up our phones.

But when we look at our phones we think it’s 2017 and we’re about to have a meaningful debate on Twitter.

Those days are gone.

‘Social’ media is gone.

The photographs have vanished from Instagram.

Your friends are not on Facebook.

And none of us can name any of the last five movies that Tom Hanks starred in.

I’m here. I’m still human. And I’m determined to continue ‘You’ve Got Media’. But first, I need to figure out what the media even is now and what it means in the modern era.

Stay tuned. I'll be back after I've prompted Sora 2 to make a video of Margaret Thatcher dancing to Taylor Swift in the middle of Toys R’ Us.

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I love both of them for the same reasons.

They're joyful.

They don't over-complicate.

They're sincere.

When you think back to all your favourite shows, films and songs from years gone by, chances are you loved them because they expressed something sincere.

Yet sincerity is so taboo in this day and age.

If Olivia Dean's song has a political message, I don't hear it.

If 'The Runarounds' has a deep thought about society's ills, I didn't notice it.

'The Runarounds' is a show about a bunch of young guys who form a band and will do anything they can to be a success.

'Man I Need' is about a woman who likes it when the man she needs calls her wonderful.

Charlie Chaplin once said "simplicity of approach is always best". I agree, but it's so hard to do. So rare that artists trust themselves by leading with simplicity.

The vulnerability of having a song that says "Hey come be the man I need!"

Or a show that strips everything down to the bare essentials of "We need to make this band work!"

It's refreshing.

I feel like we've been living in a strange cloud for maybe a decade. Partly because the old ways of consuming things was dying (remember CD's? Cinema?) and partly because you couldn't release a TV show without making a statement about how to make the world better.

But art is at its best when it's about the personal journey. About someone with a goal or need.

Olivia Dean needs this man to talk to her.

The Runarounds need to get another gig lined up.

Of course, the show and the song are a lot more layered than I'm making out. But at their core, is something genuine. Audiences don't want to be preached at, they just want to feel something.

But the algorithm Gods happened to serve up a clip of 'Moneyball' on my feed - and it felt right to immediately stop what I was doing and to go watch the film.

Film watching is a lot like running long distances. The idea of going out and jogging every night is daunting, until you start doing it, and then it soon becomes the best thing in your life.

I LOVE films. But recently, I've lost the engine for it. Not only has life got busy, but attention span has fractured.

After yesterday's post, a creative friend text me. He said: "My film/TV watching, reading and writing have dropped off a cliff this year haha".

Was comforting to know I'm not the only one. Something is shifting in the culture. New movies might be crap, which explains why we're watching less of them; but why are we watching less of the old films we love?

But one great movie will always bring you back home.

I always liked 'Moneyball'. I'm an Aaron Sorkin diehard and know most of his writing by heart. But I didn't realise just how much I love Moneyball until just now, when I watched it again.

It was only made in 2011 but already, somehow, it feels nostalgic to watch. Feels like it was made in the good old days. Maybe 2011 were the good old days. Who knew?

Brad Pitt is incredible in the film. The confidence of his acting is remarkable. He's never forcing you to like him. He's never drilling home the drama of a scene. He trusts the moment. Trusts his voice. Trusts the script and trusts the story. When you think he's going to yell, he's calm. When you think he's going to get serious, he has a smile on his face. People spend thousands going to drama school but sometimes I wonder if young actors would be better off just watching someone like Pitt.

'Moneyball' works because it captures something about life that we all know and feel.

Life has roadblocks. And most of the time we try to get through the tough times by.... doing the same things we've always done.

But like Pitt says in the film:

'Adapt or Die'.

If the Oakland A's keep playing ball the same way they always have, they're gonna sink.

So a new way is needed. And it's going to be rough.

But to forge a new path, you have to take risks. You have to be prepared to fail.

'Moneyball' resonates because Billy Beane does the things that deep down in our hearts we know we need to do, but seldom have the guts.

I guarantee that whoever you are, whatever you do, there's some path you know you need to take. But something stops you. Probably the thought of looking silly, of disappointing people, of failing.

'Moneyball' is about taking an educated gamble. Doing something you believe in. It has to be big enough that you may fail, but equally, you may make the impact you always dreamed of.

It's a heartwarming home makeover show.

In this particular episode, they were dealing with an asbestos problem. It got me wondering about the history of asbestos, when did they know it was a problem? What's the story behind it?

As we continued to watch, I thought to myself, "there must be some documentaries about asbestos."

Tonight, I considered watching a movie. Either 'Donnie Brasco' or 'Goodfellas'.

When it came to it, I realised I didn't have the energy to watch a whole movie.

Instead, I typed 'Asbestos Documentary' into the YouTube search bar.

We often perceive ourselves in a certain way. I like to think of myself as passionate about film, an avid reader, and a prolific writer.

Here we are, on 'You've Got Media', a creation of my own mind. A place where I imagined I would write deeply about movies, dissect news programming and pontificate on the nature of creativity.

I've hardly done any of those things.

At this stage in my life - I'm barely watching films. Struggling to find time to read. And when I get down time, I'm on YouTube, learning about asbestos.

If you want to know who you are, don't look at a shortlist of movies you're waiting to watch. Look at the last five things you actually viewed.

Whatever you did last night, and the night before, and the night before that, that's who you are right now.

Yes, I love movies. And I'm intrigued by all aspects of media.

Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's that I'm a Dad now with no spare time. Whatever the reasons - I have to accept who I am.

I'd love to be the guy with insight into every new release and how they compare to the classics, but that's just not where my head is at.

What that means for 'You've Got Media', I don't know. But here I am.

I guess I'm going to go learn some more about asbestos.

'Forget about who you thought you were, and just accept who you are.' -Maya (Liv Tyler in the film ‘Jersey Girl’)

Or, if you didn't watch it, you'd still give it back, and swiftly forget you ever started it.

Now the things we start stay in our watched queues forever. Maybe at the end of life, a family member should read out the names of all the shows we never got around to finishing.

Here, with a profound journalistic eye, I delve into the shows I've not finished, and try to figure out why.

Fred and Rose West: A British Horror Story

This three part series was fascinating. And by fascinating, I mean, almost fascinating.

It grips you at first because you're seeing the inside scoop on two of the weirdest serial killers of all time. Intriguing!

But here's the problem with so many crime documentaries these days. They're not being made because of new information. There's nothing investigative going on. It's just a rehash. It's like watching football highlights, but instead of a game that finished two hours ago, it's a crime spree that happened three decades ago.

A few days ago a friend of mine made a really good point about crime documentaries. She said that if the crime seems really interesting, she'll just look up the killers and read an article. It takes five minutes. Why spend many hours watching heaps of unnecessary episodes when instead you could just glance at Wikipedia?

The White Lotus

I loved season 1 and I loved season 2 and I told myself I loved season 3. But the truth is, I didn't and I don't. It's boring.

Not unwatchable boring. But, entertaining boring. The type of thing you think you're enjoying but as soon as something comes up, like needing to make a phone call or popping to the kitchen for a snack; you completely forget you were ever watching it.

I want to love it, but I just don't care.

American Manhunt: Osama Bin Laden

It was fascinating to begin with. An important time in recent history. And I feel smart watching docs like this.

But at some point I stopped watching and forgot I'd ever started.

I am certain I'll never finish it. But I wish I would.

Adoration

Italian show. Good first episode. I don't remember what it was about though. I think a girl went missing?

Zero Day

Robert De Niro is an ex-President and now he has Alzheimer's, or something like that. I'm pretty sure nobody anywhere has finished the first season.

This reminds me of another show I was watching on Apple TV, someone shot the President and they're blaming Sterling K Brown. Forgot about that one too. Is the problem me and my ever decreasing attention, or is it the shows?

The Penguin

I convinced myself it would be a masterpiece, therefore I can't bring myself to properly watch it. I am still on episode 1 but struggling to deal with the Farrell transformation and I know I need to get over myself.

Lockerbie

It's good. Intriguing. And Colin Firth is great.

But a few weeks before watching this drama, I saw a doc about the crash. And the doc is better!

But I was enjoying this.

But then I just stopped.

And pressing play on it again feels like the hardest thing in the world.

Based on a True Story

Season 1 was great. I started season 2 and then within a few episodes I completely forgot the show even existed.

In fact, I vehemently disliked something about the start of season 2. I just can't remember what I disliked.

Anyway it's sitting there as part of my great 'Unwatched'. Never to be viewed again.

What shows have you not finished/abandoned/forgotten?

Take a glance at TikTok and all you’ll see is AI videos from Veo 3. Go on X and instead of conversations between people, you’ll see users asking ‘Grok’ to fact check. Go on Instagram Reels and, depending on your personal algorithm, you’ll either see a Gym Bro upselling his course or a Mommy Vlogger telling you you’re parenting wrong. This would be fine if there weren’t thousands of these ‘creators’ saying THE EXACT SAME THINGS!

”You know what? That is not what inspires people. That is NOT what inspires people.”
-Jerry Maguire.

People are screaming for something real.

Something that will light them up.

It’s hard to believe this when everything feels stacked against creativity.

People aren’t scrolling social media because they love it.

Yes, they’re addicted.

But why?

BECAUSE THEY ARE LOOKING FOR SOMETHING.

They are looking for you. Your art, your story, your voice.

I was in a daze for months, scrolling TikTok aimlessly, feeling lost. But then I found the music of Stephen Wilson Jr.

Not to exaggerate, but my life changed in an instant. This was EXACTLY what I needed.

I’m not saying that if you listen to the same music as me your life will change. But you know what? It might. I posted a video above of him covering ‘Stand By Me.’ If it speaks to you at all, check out the rest of his music.

But if you don’t like Stephen Wilson Jr, don’t worry about it. Your own version of greatness is out there.

Remember when Oliver Anthony released ‘Rich Men North of Richmond’?

As far as I’m aware, there was no marketing company behind it. No big scheme. It was just a guy with a guitar.

It’s had over 200 million views on YouTube and now this guy is set.

I like YouTube. Nearly every night after my kid is asleep I log on hoping to be captivated. Mostly, it’s crap. An algorithm of things that are somewhat like something I used to like. It’s a bore.

But every now and then you stumble upon a Peter Santenello.

And again, his videos might not be your jam. But to me, he’s one of the best documentary filmmakers around. There’s no particular agenda, he just likes to meet people and find out what they’re really thinking. His videos are addictive - but you don’t feel like you’re wasting your time.

All of the guys mentioned above are successful, both in terms of audience and money. But not because of film studios or record companies but because they have a voice and are unapologetic about putting it out into the world.

It really is tough out there. You can be putting out great work, and have no audience. Or you can build a big audience, and still not be making any money.

I write this blog partly to inspire you to use your voice in the world but I also understand that, realistically, it still takes a long time to get to where you need to be going.

You’re probably worrying that AI is taking over everything. And in many ways, you’re right.

But what we’re craving is NOT funny AI videos. It’s not Hollywood movies made by a machine.

We want realness.

We want to follow people on TikTok who make us laugh. We want to read Substackers who reflect the world back at us. We want music that helps us understand life and we want movies that take us somewhere we need to get to.

Big movies are flopping. Famous singers are releasing generic records that mean nothing. Celeb bloggers are inspiring nobody.

It’s time for you and me.

We just need to keep believing in our own voices.

And remember that it’s a marathon, not a sprint. And we build an audience one person at a time.

Your art is needed. Now, more than ever.

I love its simplicity. And I see the film's influence in nearly everything that has come since. Remember that scene in 'Annie Hall' with the lobsters? Or the scene in 'Kramer Vs Kramer' when Dustin and the kid are cooking French Toast? Those scenes are Grandchildren of the scenes in Chaplin's film. At the beginning, The Tramp is struggling to look after the little boy--- making his food, keeping him fed. Then twenty minutes into the movie; the boy is making pancakes as The Tramp sits in bed -- it's a wonderful role reversal, and it tells us so much about the characters.

The connection between Charlie's 'The Tramp' and the kid; has anything in cinema ever been more beautifully life-affirming?

The film was such a personal one for Chaplin. Set in the Poverty-filled world he grew up in, it's a film about the human spirit; about the people that shape us as children. The film is about the same thing all of Chaplin's films were about, love. But this film wasn't about him chasing a pretty girl; it was about being a Father. Being responsible for someone else.

The sadness of when the kid gets taken away by social services, is one of the most emotional moments in the history of cinema. When the boy is on the back of the vehicle, screaming out for Charlie -- it's still painful to watch.

But let's not forget, this is one of the funniest films ever made! It's over a hundred years old, yet still it's one of the most innovative films I've ever seen. And I mean that based on watching it again now. The jokes are still fresh! Chaplin's work was so ahead of its time, so unique, and so perfectly crafted that it's utterly inimitable. Like when he keeps dumping the baby but the police repeatedly show up, or how he turns his bed sheets into clothing, or when he's hiding the kid from the guard at the shelter --- genius.

‘The Kid’ is poignant.

If you haven't seen it already, please do. I'm not one to demand everyone go and watch every classic film ever made. As important as 'Citizen Kane' historically, many people will tell you its a snorefest. But 'The Kid' is, I genuinely believe, one of the most watchable and entertaining films of all time. And it’s only 52 minutes long!

Charlie Chaplin is, above everyone else in the history of cinema; my absolute hero.