Watch and Listen: Waiting Out the Pandemic

When my high school announced a two week break in the middle of March, my first instinct was to create a to-do list. What could I get done with all this newfound time? What long-unfinished projects could I complete; what new ones would I start? How many movies could I get under my belt? 

It’s amusing now that at one point I felt rushed, because we all know that weeks turned into months turned into summer turned into boredom. Watching movies, television, and listening to the occasional podcast became my routine. Practically each night, I crawled into bed and checked another title off the list. Not only did it help me pass the time, but it gave some structure to my oh-so-unstructured days and reminded me that time was indeed still passing. As I watched my senior year dwindle away, consuming these little bits of media allowed me to live someone else’s life, including one whole week dedicated to Wes Anderson’s repertoire. 

Below I’m sharing some highlights in the hopes that we can all continue to indulge in these other universes — ones that do not require social distancing or mask-wearing. 

Podcasts  

Code Switch

I started listening to Code Switch this summer, per the recommendation of various Instagram threads listing podcasts about race in the US. Generally, I have a hard time getting into podcasts, and this one posed some potentially heavy topics, like police brutality. However, the show’s co-hosts, Gene Demby and Shereen Marisol Meraji, have managed to strike an ideal balance between facts, input, and banter. They’ve explored everything from the characterization of Asian-Americans on TV to TuPac’s legacy to education disparities. Each episode averages around twenty-five minutes, making them easily digestible, which is great news for my attention span! There are tons of episodes covering tons of topics, so there is no need to listen in any particular order. 

Crime Junkie

For a slightly longer commitment, and up a much different alley, there is Crime Junkie. These episodes are typically much longer — almost an hour — and they cover, as you might already be assuming, true crime stories. I’m a sucker for stuff like this, but I especially love Crime Junkie because the hosts don’t fool around with empty chatter. Crime Junkie is truly just storytelling, and that’s what I like about it. The episodes are characterized by their topics: serial killers, missing persons cases, unsolved crimes, etc. (Serial killers are a personal fave!)  

TV Shows (Hulu book-to-show adaptation edition)  

 Normal People

I told myself I wouldn’t give in and watch Normal People because I enjoyed the book so much that I didn’t want to let a streaming-service-adaptation taint my memory of the characters. But then I did. In the course of two days. Bottom line is, it’s just okay. Good, definitely, but it pales in comparison to the book. It was especially enjoyable to watch during my first few weeks on a college campus, as the story follows two high schoolers as they graduate and attend university, falling in love with each other and staying connected alongside their attempts to know themselves better and discover who they are at their away from home.  

High Fidelity

Another quarantine read — and subsequent watch — both versions of High Fidelity are good, and definitely enjoyable to watch. The story follows Rob, a struggling record store owner, as she witnesses the engagement of her ex-boyfriend and grapples with what went wrong in their relationship. The show is an easy watch, and has its touching moments. Personally, I’m looking forward to following the romantic interests into season two. (Disclaimer: I get sucked into romantic plotlines easily and will sit through a crappy show just to see who ends up together.) The show version includes some cool reimagining of the plot — it is set in Brooklyn rather than Chicago, and Rob is recast as a bisexual woman of color. 

Little Fires Everywhere

It hadn’t even occurred to me that I ended up consuming so many of these book-to-television phenomena, because, I admit, I watched Little Fires Everywhere without first (or ever) reading the book. The show follows two very different families, documenting the way they deal with racial and class structures in their Ohio suburb as their lives become increasingly intersected and intertwined. The acting in this show is outstanding (as you might’ve already assumed based on the cast list, which includes Reese Witherspoon and Kerry Washington) and the drama is tangible. It’s absolutely worth a watch, and I found myself musing over the show’s themes for weeks after finishing it. (If anyone has a copy of the book they’d like to loan me, please do!)

Movies  

Honey Boy 

I originally watched Honey Boy in theaters, back when that was a thing, but it has since assumed a spot on my Amazon watchlist (free with Prime) for the day when I am ready to revisit its masterful emotion. The film is an autobiographical adaptation of Shia LeBeouf’s life, with a screenplay written by the man himself, and follows a former child actor as he slowly uncovers his childhood trauma in rehab as a young adult. This movie is a journey, and best consumed on a large screen in a dark, uninterrupted space. Seriously, do not touch your phone during this movie, no matter how many times you get a notification. It is intense and overwhelming and wonderful.  

Her

Her has been out for a while now, and has probably remained on my I-will-watch-eventually list for almost as long. I got around to watching it in those early days of quarantine, and it resonated in an unexpectedly timely way. The main character, Theodore, downloads a virtual assistant and subsequently falls in love and begins a serious relationship with her. I was surprised by the film’s ability to convince me of their mutual attraction, which only heightened my sympathy when Theodore finds out that the software (humanized by the name Samantha) is in love with, and carrying on relationships, with thousands of other people. The commentary on technology and human — or rather non-human — connection was especially poignant in a moment when everything had transitioned onto Zoom, and the extent of my contact with friends was text and Facetime. Although I didn’t love everything about the movie, I appreciated the musings it prompted and its surprising timeliness.