The Great Review Rebellion: My All-or-No-Thing Streaming Struggle

I'm the King of Over-Thinking Pop Culture.

Or anything.

Thanks neurodivergence.

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So here’s a fun fact that’s only “fun” in the way a raccoon breaking into your house is “fun”: I haven’t reviewed a single movie or show this entire year. 

Not one. Zero. 

A cinematic drought so vast, it could inspire a gritty post-apocalyptic series. (Not that I’d watch it. Unless I could promise myself I'd review it. Which I won’t. So I don’t.) 

Now, you might assume this means I’ve just been living my best low-fi cottagecore life, sipping tea and making jam in the forest while ignoring all things with a screen. Oh, how I wish. 

No, dear reader, I’ve been caught in the ridiculous, neurodivergent trap of “If I’m not going to review it, I probably shouldn’t watch it at all.” Because clearly, the only reason to consume media is to produce content. 

Joy? Relaxation? Recharging the creative battery? Pfft. 

That’s for people who don’t overthink everything. Sure, I’ve watched a few things here and there. I’ve seen One Piece—which my brain still insists I should be reviewing despite it being 300 episodes deep and watched entirely with my son while snacking on popcorn and bonding like decent humans. 

And I’ve seen a few movies with the kids, which again, my inner critic labeled “wasted opportunities” because I didn’t turn them into essays with metaphors and impassioned rambles about the state of cinema. 

Even the games I’ve played recently? Guilt-fueled. “I should be analyzing this!” I whisper to myself while choosing whether to flirt with a cartoon vampire or sabotage a virtual dating show contestant. (“It’s research,” I justify. “For art.”) 

This is the very specific brand of ridiculousness that happens when your neurodivergent brain decides everything must have a purpose, and preferably that purpose should generate feedback, comments, and the occasional existential crisis. 

So here I am: creatively drained because I haven’t reviewed anything, but also creatively drained because I haven’t let myself consume anything for fun. Which, if you’re following the math here, means I’ve been attempting to pour from an empty cup while also feeling guilty about not washing the cup first. 

It’s that classic All or No Thing spiral. If I’m not doing it “right”—with analysis and insight and a clever title and maybe a tortured metaphor about raccoons—then I might as well not do it at all. 

But here's the new plan. I’m going to start watching stuff again for the pure, scandalous joy of it. I’m going to let myself read a book without planning a take. I might even play a game without turning it into a metaphor for my mental health. (But no promises.) 

 And when I do feel like reviewing something again, I’ll do it. With love, chaos, passion, and the inevitable raccoon metaphor. 

But in the meantime? I’m giving myself permission to just enjoy the thing. Because sometimes, a show is just a show. And sometimes, the most revolutionary act of a content creator is to simply… not make content. (Okay but real talk—One Piece is actually kind of amazing. Should I review it? Don’t answer that. Or maybe do. Crap.)

But yes, reviews are coming. 

I swear.