Ever since I was a chubby little kid in primary school, with my rotund cheeks and an overly enthusiastic demeanor, I always looked up to my elder brother. Two years apart, we all know how the sibling drill goes, the imitation to the point of irritation I used to do caused many a row in our house, but overall, he let me have my way because I was the princess of the house. A part of me likes to imagine that he was irritated because he wanted me to have my own views and form my own opinions and path, but that probably the overly critical adult talking now.
And so I would lumber along behind him, play soccer with HIS friends, watch his programs and eat his leftovers from the packed lunch our mother gave us. An unbreakable bond, that resulted in me largely inheriting the same taste in movies as him, or so I would like to think.
These movies led me to the saga of rotten tomatoes. Rotten tomatoes is a website that seeks to score the “well to do”ness of any movie. Whether it’s a raving success or a withering flop, rotten tomatoes will let you know. A new friend of mine recently recommended the cartoon movie “COCO” to me and the tomato-meter rated it an impressive 97 percent, and now I look forward to watching it. My brother has been replaced by the tomato-meter, I base my viewing pleasure, on the ratings of random strangers and audience reviews who I pray have the worthwhile expertise and same taste as I do. Ironic that its named after a tomato, because as we all might have experienced, some people hate tomatoes and some cannot live without them.
I watched a movie with Chris Hemsworth in it, it was dubbed “Cabin in the woods”, tomato-meter had given it an astounding 92 percent, I mean Chris Hemsworth's "THOR" charm, smouldering good looks and a stellar tomato-meter percentage? I was stoked to watch it, obviously. My disappointment was poignant, it was mixed with hope in the first 30 minutes. Ahhhh hope, dear old friend, the potent feeling that kills us and yet keeps us going all at the same time. By the end of the first hour, my fate was sealed, it was torture. I was shocked, my faithful rotten tomatoes had let me down. The sheer disbelief.
That, perhaps is what has brought me here, to question our reviews, our perceptions of ourselves, in instances where we are our own harshest critiques and when perhaps we lay the gravy on a LITTLE too thick. We effortlessly believe what other people say about us, it affects us in as much as we want to brush it off. That niggling thought in our head reminds us that Annastacia said I gained weight in the afternoon or Tanatswa commented on my balding and receding hairline. Perhaps the gospel of “be proud of who you are,” given to us on our way up the age ladder, may not have sunk deep enough, perhaps it was unrealistic, because in the same breath they tell you that people need people, then you wonder why you need therapy. We navigate the thin line of caring and wanting NOT to care, but as is apparent, rotten tomatoes do not guarantee who you are, perceptions will perpetually differ.
Rotten tomatoes shall forever be a part of society, their flag post stands high and unwavering, in their capacity as comments and remarks from the ones we love and the ones who love to hate us, ratings and reviews from a website AND as literal hard to classify food items that may have been left out way too long. I just hope you do not let them define you, and I hope you make your “brother” proud, whichever form they may exist in your life.
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