The good, the bad and the trashy: The pop culture viewing that helped us escape 2020

Anne T. Donahue and Peter Knegt each write regular columns for CBC Arts, and they decided to join forces to reflect on what the pop culture they consumed to get them through 2020.

Peter Knegt: Anne! It's somehow almost 2021, and I thought maybe we could "celebrate" by both acknowledging we are likely to make it through this year and discussing how exactly we managed this — namely, the pop culture we consumed to numb our way through what at many points felt like the apocalypse. You down? 

Anne T. Donahue: I have never been more down in my life. First, to congratulate ourselves on making it through this ghoulish year. And second, to talk about the things I've been screaming about on Twitter, only with more thought than simply typing in all-caps, "THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF NEW YORK ARE MY BEST FRIENDS."

Which I guess make for the perfect segue. As a woman who once prided herself on being above reality television (note: I was an insufferable, snobby, naive fool), it became my security blanket this year. I began with Vanderpump Rules. Then I transitioned to Real Housewives: I started in Beverly Hills, made my way to New York, shimmied over to Potomac, spent some quality time with New Jersey, and am now in Orange County. And don't even get me started on Salt Lake City.

The thing is, it's so far from my own day-to-day life. It's so devoid of real, consequential drama, and it's so beautifully crafted, edited, and executed that it's morphed from a boredom watch to a bona fide cultural life raft. For a few hours every day, I can exist in a world that is seemingly untouched by our actual one. Plus, I can finally understand all the references my friends have been making for years. Clap! Clap! Clap!

PK: Ok, so we went about these past nine months a little differently but I am definitely feeling like you took the better route? I am genuinely ashamed that despite being locked in my house for the worst three quarters of a year I have still never seen an episode of Real Housewives, but I'm thinking maybe the rest of this winter should be devoted to it exclusively? (Please tell me where to start.)

That is not to say I didn't have an equivalent phase of escapism in my quar viewing. I rewatched Sex and the City in all its problematic entirety, as I did every single season of RuPaul's Drag Race and all its spinoffs. But I did try to start things off high-brow. When everything went down, one of my main sources of optimism was considering this as an opportunity to watch all this stuff I should have watched but never did. I made a list of mostly HBO series I'd never finished and got a subscription to the Criterion Channel and was all, "I am going to watch every single Ingmar Bergman film!" But by the end of April, I was just no longer capable of consuming anything remotely challenging. I think it was finally watching The Leftovers that truly did me in, which makes sense given it is absolutely the last thing you need when you are crippled with anxiety that the world is maybe ending. (Although going to bed thinking of sweaty Justin Theroux on a run definitely got me through a few lonely nights.)

ATD: Honestly, that's the most sophisticated thing I've ever heard in my life: I got a subscription to the Criterion Channel. It makes me want to do it now! I won't, but oh man! 

That said, I absolutely understand. I dabbled in a few high-ish brow things this year, but every time I thought about really delving into a series I've always wanted to watch but hadn't, I felt overwhelmed and stressed and worried that I'd make the wrong choice. Miniseries were okay: Murder on Madison Beach was phenomenal, and I'll Be Gone in the Dark made me weep. I also got really into Chernobyl right before our collective nightmare struck (days before the province sent that false warning about the Pickering power plant, which we all should've taken as some sort of sign of things to come), and I rewatched Succession no less than 18 times before I realized I was ruining it for myself.

What surprised me the most this year, though, was the reboot of Unsolved Mysteries (on Netflix). I started watching it assuming it'd deliver the same level of camp as Robert Stack circa 1989, but it was thoughtful and heart-wrenching and terrifying and shockingly well done. In the second instalment, there was an episode about the 2011 tsunami in Japan and it absolutely destroyed me. Which you'd think I may want to avoid amidst our current global crises, but it presented a really beautiful approach to thinking about death, which felt like a reprieve from thinking about it all the time in the way we've seemed to this year.

Were you surprised by anything this year? I surprised myself by continuing to not watch The Morning Show, which I know I'd like but just can't care about.

PK: I'm not sure if you would? Though I watched the entire thing despite generally disliking every episode and will probably do the same with season 2 now that Julianna Margulies is joining the cast. Which was definitely a 2020 trend for me: continuing to watch many series I didn't even enjoy because it just felt like I might as well since time is no longer valuable! Like, I find The Flight Attendant to be horribly written garbage and yet every week I press play again because what else am I going to do?

As for surprising, for whatever reason I had kind of assumed there would be a lack of great new content this year. But so much had seemingly just finished production when everything went down, and we were pretty consistently blessed all year long. The Plot Against America, Mrs. America, I May Destroy You, Lovecraft Country, Normal People, the new seasons of Pen15 and The Crown. And have you seen The Great? I kept putting it off because it just didn't seem appealing but was I ever wrong. It is honestly the funniest show of the year and Elle Fanning and Nicolas Hoult just kill it. Not enough people seem to be talking about it.

What's also great about all those shows I just listed is that most of them are set very much in the past, which was definitely something I found comforting. I don't know about you, but watching anything contemporary just felt depressing. I don't want to watch people freely hugging or dancing in public spaces until I can do the same. 

ATD: Oh, that's relatable. I've found watching anything contemporary stresses me out because it feels like drama on top of drama. Even if it's funny! I've heard The Great is amazing and Pen15 is a game-changer, and as a Princess Diana stan I know it's my duty to watch the latest season of The Crown. But even new series set in the past feel like too much. Which is ironic when you think about how much "reality" (LOL) TV I've been shotgunning. To me, those plots aren't real and the low stakes feel like a relief. But scripted series? That are well-written and good? No. I'll care about everybody involved way too much and my life will be consumed by whether or not they (yes, the characters) are okay. And saying that out loud certainly makes it sound like I'm not!

What about movies? Right before this nightmare began, I saw Emma., which I absolutely LOVED. Anya Taylor-Joy thrived this year, and we're all the better for it. But every movie I was excited to see I just ... didn't? First, I wasn't about to go to a movie theatre, are you kidding me? And second, I felt like I was already spending so much time in front of my screens — I couldn't commit to another two-ish hours of story and conflict. This year really illuminated that my favourite way to see movies is to leave my house and watch in a big room with lots of strangers. And I didn't know how much that type of escape meant to me until I couldn't do it. I'd always rented movies (hello, child of the 1990s), but "going to the movies" has always felt like a treat. Which probably makes me sound elderly, especially when thinking about this deal between Warner Bros. and HBO Max. Honestly, a part of me thought, "Well, I guess I won't be watching a lot of movies anymore!" when I read about their zest for on-demand. Streaming just always feels like work. (Literally. When I stream movies, it's usually when I'm reviewing them.)

PK: So I have to confess it's possible I am partly responsible for cursing this year because on January 1, 2020, I made 10 of my friends join me at a matinee of Cats. That's how I started 2020: WITH CATS. In my slight defence it was my birthday and it was definitely intended to be watched with a wink (edibles may have been involved). But I feel like as a result, I got reprimanded by God who then said, "I will destroy the movies with a plague!" And honestly, that was one of the hardest things to watch happen in terms of how the pandemic disrupted our downtime: movie theatres closed, and the entire notion of their existence has been put into real jeopardy.

I also love going to the movies, and had just settled in to a new routine of heading to the recently reopened Paradise Cinema in Toronto a couple times a week for their retrospective programming when COVID hit here. (Cats, thankfully, wasn't the last movie I saw in a cinema: that would be Paris is Burning.) So how I reacted initially was going probably the longest I ever have without watching any movies whatsoever. My lockdown attention span had been reduced to an absolute max of an hour anyway. 

I did eventually adjust to reality and found my way back to movies (at home), particularly in the last few months. I watched a dozen movies at virtual TIFF (Nomadland and Beans being standouts), and then again at virtual Inside Out (No Ordinary Man and The Strong Ones are so good). And I was definitely clicking play on Borat Subsequent Moviefilm the second it was released (and was happy to find my anticipation warranted). While lately I've been lucky enough to enjoy screener season (give Minari all the COVID Oscars), I am definitely ready for a world without cinemas to no longer be.

That said, I am glad I was stopped from ever seeing one movie in cinema: The Prom, which I saw last week in a horrendous error of judgment assuming that no movie starring both Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman could be unwatchable. I was wrong. Because just as he did with Cats some 11 dark months ago, James Corden (in a role that should not have been played by a straight man) descended onto a screen in front of me to remind me that there are some things about going to the movies that I should never mourn — namely, watching anything with him in it. 

ATD: 2021 will be the year we purge James Corden from our pop culture mainframe. Also, the year in which we all re-watch Cats because maybe it's the only way to reverse and reclaim time.

I've heard The Prom was terrible, and not even in a good way. Between that, The Politician and Ratched, do we maybe give Ryan Murphy a timeout next year? Does he need a break? Is he tired? I know I'm tired, so he's gotta be.

Which brings me to our last point: how would you sum up this year when averaging out the pop culture landscape? I mean, music was great — we got new Lady Gaga, Miley, "WAP," and Phoebe Bridgers. And I made it a point to make my neighbours uncomfortable while blaring Fetch the Bolt Cutters this spring when I was cleaning my car. (In my defence, their four-year-old daughter was outside, and if I can't introduce her to Fiona now, when can I?) TV and movies weren't bad at all — I just failed to connect with a lot of what came out, but that was my own fault. I was too preoccupied with existing in survival mode that I couldn't lend the bandwidth to anything other than the Housewives and various true crime docs.

It almost felt like a lost year, where even the best stuff was tossed into the quicksand and left for us to find when and if we found the time. Being an active pop culture consumer felt like work. As much as I may have liked something, I don't know if I really enjoyed anything. And that makes me sad! You know me, and you know I love to actively celebrate good pop culture. I hope I re-learn how to do it in 2021, because I'm almost angry at myself for missing things that brought so many people joy.

PK: I would get into music but I literally wrote 2000 words on how music helped me get through this year last week and honestly, I too am tired. I will say, though, that I feel like when we look back at this year, music will stand out as its greatest pop cultural asset — I mean, even just for Fiona alone.

That said, I am looking forward to taking a cue from you and pursuing a more survival-mode cultural consumption for the rest of this nightmare of a winter. Which leads to me to remind you that you never told me which season of Housewives I should kick off 2021 by falling into a deep abyss of comfort to?

ATD: I'm so tempted to say Beverly Hills, but the real truth is New York. You must start with New York. It is iconic. It is bananas. It is the reason why any of us are even here. Then you must chase it with Potomac. And you will be changed.

PK: Bless you, Anne. 

Queeries is Knegt's weekly column that queries LGBTQ art, culture and/or identity through a personal lens. Anne-iversaries is Donahue's bi-weekly column that explores and celebrates the pop culture that defined the '90s and 2000s and the way it affects us now. You can check out a few editions of both below.