People like junk. I like junk. You like junk. IT’S FINE.

Our relationship to movies - even dumb, prurient or artless ones - is deeply personal and sometimes profound. Picking apart another’s love for something you hate is like saying “why are you fucking THAT person?!”

I know sexual assault survivors who draw strength from critically reviled rape revenge movies. I used the Bond franchise as a comforting touchstone to get through my dad’s death. You can have taste and standards but you will never quantify someone’s personal connection to a film.

All these cinephile purity tests are exhausting and ultimately futile. People love what they love and - trust me on this - very few can successfully articulate why. A shame, because if they could that would be a way more interesting conversation.