I think I've discovered something rather groundbreaking. A new theory, I guess one could say. I wish I could say it was all scientific and that I'm a genius but I - you know what. I will. I totally am scientific and a bonafide genius. Take that, high school math teachers! Who's laughing now?!
Ahem.
I've been known to have very high expectations on a number of things in my life. Relationships, school, life in general - I'm basically a dreamer in every sense of the word. I play things out in my head to the perfect scenario (and soundtrack, obviously) and eventually becoming vastly disappointed when the real thing doesn't play out like that awesome movie I just directed in my head (and has a mediocre soundtrack with three-bar pop music). I'm sure a number of other people do this, too (at least I hope so) and this is why I've decided to share this new theory.
Lately, I've been getting way too hyped about certain things. Mostly movies. I'm not sure if this is because the movie marketing industry has been working overtime or if I'm just becoming too vulnerable to their tactics. There is also the added pressures of my friends recommending me movies to watch and swearing that I'll love it and that it's the best thing to come out since anything ever.
Example: Pitch Perfect. I was pretty excited to see this movie. Not super-ultra-fangirl excited, but a moderate healthy dose of excitement. Having a singing background, I'll see pretty much any movie about music. Especially ones with singing.
Being broke 98% of the time, I was unable to see it Pitch Perfect in theatres. I wasn't terribly disappointed by this, thinking I could check it out when it came out on DVD. A few weeks passed, and all of my friends were talking about it. They were obsessed. They quoted it, sang the songs, and tried to do the cup trick (which, funnily enough, we all actually learned at 5th grade camp but I wasn't going to burst their bubble). Soon, the whole freaking world was in love with Pitch Perfect. It was everywhere. When word got out that I hadn't seen it, my friends treated it like a crime against my former singing days, saying that it was "my movie" and that I had to see it.
A long while passed before I caved and watched it On Demand. It's safe to say I had freakishly high expectations regarding pretty much every aspect of the film.
Can you guess what happened next?
Now, I didn't hate the movie. In fact, I saw was all of the fuss was about. It had a lot of the key elements of a hit chick flick: girl power, forbidden romance, drama, singing men. I usually love chick flicks, so I am not making fun of them in the slightest. Because of my unrealistically high expectations, the movie was pretty much ruined. I was looking through the movie through a critical eye, analyzing every part of it through no will of my own. I even found myself a bit insulted that people would call this "my movie."
Another notable example is Guardians of the Galaxy, arguably a more critically-acclaimed and audience-adored movie than Pitch Perfect. What happened is basically the same story, except I added my own nerdy and Marvel-loving expectations on top of it. I saw it when it came out on DVD and ended up not really liking it all that much because of how high my own expectations were and the nerd-gasms my friends were experiencing. I can't pinpoint why this is or where the critical eye came from, but much like Pitch Perfect, I was against the majority and didn't care for the film.
That's right. I don't like Guardians of the Galaxy. Shoot me. Revoke my nerd status. It's my own fault and I've accepted that.
It was after I walked away from Guardians that I realized I had a problem. I was letting myself become so worked up that I was forgetting the joy I once felt walking into a theatre and just... enjoying the movie. No expectations. No knit-picking. Just me, myself, and the screen.
So when I had the opportunity to see the new Ant-Man movie, I knew what I had to do.
It was easy to walk into Ant-Man with low expectations. I mean, seriously. Look at the title. I honestly wasn't planning on seeing it at all until my friend suggested it. Coped up inside my house for longer than I'd like to admit, I accepted his invitation instantly, packing my low expectations in with my smuggled bottle of water. Waiting for the movie to start, I realized I was actually kind of excited to see it.
The result of this adventure: I really liked Ant-Man.
I'm not sure if this is because I went in with low expectations or because it was a generally good movie, but I like to think it was a little bit of both. After exiting the theatre after both end-screen clips, I left completely satisfied. It wasn't until I got home that I realized it was the first time I had gone to a blockbuster and liked it in a very long time. Too long.
I undersold the movie to myself and ended up really enjoying it - something I genuinely missed about going out to the movies. By shedding my expectations and going in with a blank slate, I had broken my curse.
Now, underselling has been a tactic used in pop culture for some time. Whether you're underselling potential blind date prospects to your single friends or trying to subtly coerce your significant other to watch your favorite TV show with reverse-psychology, I'm sure many have done it before. My theory is that we also have the ability to undersell to ourselves. Don't undersell yourself, though, because you are wonderful and deserve the best.
There's no fancy name for this theory. I'm not sure that it needs one. I'm also fairly certain that I cannot be the first to ever think of doing this. I may or may not take credit for it anyway, but that's just how I roll. Regardless, I highly encourage everyone to employ this practice the next time you see a big blockbuster or read a bestseller that you ~think~ you might like. Especially if you have a track record of being a cynic to all things popular (I'm looking at you, hipster nation... and 17-year-old me). Sometimes you just need to enjoy things and not think about it. You might be surprised at the result.
❤ Dae
