I picked a bad moment to start a movie blog. February 9, 2020 was the Oscar telecast, and a few weeks later, the world stopped in its tracks. I still have an empty draft recap post that stopped feeling important enough to finish. I’m just not one of those people who became more productive or thinner during the lockdown. My desire to write was too easily overcome by my desire to make my husband watch all 12 seasons of Bones without skipping any episodes. I have accomplished nothing.

2020 passed without another movie seen. The seasonal Covid depression megamix killed my cinema libido, and I just couldn’t bring myself to watch the movies on my TV that I should have been seeing in the movie theatre. I skipped the Oscars entirely.

2021 brought vaccines (3 so far, but I’ll take so many more if it will get me back to the theatre on the reg) and a bit of overly-optimistic hope that things could be normal again. The options were hilariously slim, but I managed to squeak in A Quiet Place Part II, The Green Knight, and roughly one half of Dear Even Hansen (a unequivocal disaster that I will properly memorialize post-Oscar season) over the summer before Omciron came for us all.

Things are definitely still not normal in 2022, but I’ve run out of Bones I’m finally feeling up for indulging in some trash-ass white people movies. That’s right, the noms are in and they are looking predictably dismal! I’ll reserve my judgment for the end of the sprint, but at this moment it’s hard to tell if there were just no movies that came out last year, or if (more likely) the Academy has learned exactly nothing from the last few years. Please join me, you love slow moving dialog.