#7: The Promised Return
Hey there!
It's been a bit, hasn't it?
1 Year and 5 months to be, exact.
A lot's happened since then, and I haven't written another entry of this. That wasn't the plan, but alas, plans have a way of going awry.
So the short version- This entry of the newsletter was supposed to be the RRR Subtitles and Translation Notes entry, alongside a South Indian Film Recs List that I promised I'd do. I'd had it all worked out in my mind.
But then something happened: The prior entry- the RRR Essay - blew up. I wrote it for my friends/circle/readership which I figured to be pretty limited, just because I wanted them to have the ability to think through, talk about, and understand this work that was alien to so many of them. I was expecting it to be contained, mostly. But then,it went kinda insanely viral, I was linked to in GQ and a whole host of places, tons of folks reached out, I ended up writing a piece for Vox, and a lot of stuff happened.
And throughout it all, of course, I got hit with an endless barrage of rightwing chuds' nonsense, which ranged from calling me a 'traitor' to 'ABCD' to a billion more crude and vile things best not repeated. The central underpinning idea behind all of it though was the idea that seemed to wish I didn't exist and that thinking in the way I did was 'wrong' and a betrayal to the identity I am meant to be loyal towards. The sense of my personal engagement with the work of a creator I'd grown up viewing felt caught up in some culture war of sorts, given the subject at hand. And it all just...drained me. The newsletter was (and hopefully still is) a space for me to write and engage with things such that it's fun for me. If it's not fun or a drag, then what's the point, yeah?
And so the prospect of writing a second piece on the subject, as I saw the subscriber count go up again and again, whilst wondering 'how many of these are legit and how many have subbed just to try and harass me or bother me some more?', the fun was gone. I'd already had to lock my Twitter at numerous points and do a great deal of things to keep things healthy for me. At a point, I just had to stop looking at the response as well, as friends would tell me they heard my work referenced on a podcast they listened to or they saw some discourse, what have you. The enormity of it all, alongside the shit being thrown my way, which felt so personal and viscerally vindictive, a sort of 'how dare you', it killed the joy of writing more on the film itself.
But I kept telling myself I could do it, I would do it, that I just needed time. Time and distance. But as both came, and as interviews of the director talking about how his father was now directly working with the RSS and held a positive outlook on them and even wrote a script on them that made him tear up? All instinct to really return to the subject, with the subtitles and translation notes to explain and contextualize them? It went away.
I no longer felt the need to write about any of it. I might yet do the recs list for South Indian film, but much like with this, the sense of 'What nonsensical blow-back will I get hit with for this one?' kinda petrified the affair for me. When the anxiety overrides the fun and joy of writing and sharing something, it becomes a strange affair.
Frankly speaking, it's all stuff I should have been prepared for and anticipated, and been able to take. But I was not, and I didn't. That one's on me, I'll take that.
But at the same time, every time I thought I'd return to this newsletter and write some more, as I did have stuff I constantly wanted to write about? I felt obligated and bound to the promise I made to deliver the entries I'd mentioned, and so it became a loop of 'Well, can't touch that until I finally get to...'.
Anyway, once enough time passes, you realize:
Well, that's stupid.
This is my space to write freely after all. All that burden was self-inflicted and in my head. If I want to write, I should just write--simple as that. Can't let stuff get in the way of the joy of writing, which I've frankly done a lot.
Beyond this space, I've experienced a huge, massive burn-out with being a critic period,as years of thinking I couldn't possibly burn out have finally caught up to my hubris. And it's been a weird, hard thing, as I see so many of my peers leaving/quitting/moving on, and that's the last remnants we're talking about. Too many others I've known or came in with are gone already. Understandably so.
But this space- this feels like a reprieve of sorts to me. It's where I'm not writing as a Critic for outlets or others or being paid or doing it as fun volunteer assignments. There's no 'rules' or just anything hanging over it.
It's just...write. Write what's cool or interesting or moving and excites you, in that moment in time. There's a freedom there, a joy there, an escape that calls to me even through the burn-out.
So even though I have decided that by early next year I will be done with my time as a 'critic' proper (that is after finally wrapping up all the last remaining commitments I still have), writing no longer for outlets and stepping away, I still want to have this. I still want to write and encapsulate the joy of doing so and thinking about cool shit here.
I hope that's okay.
This has all been an overly long way of saying- I'm sorry, and I'm back.
And if you've read this far- thank you.
I don't know if this is quite what you want or subscribed for, but I appreciate you giving me your time- I know what it's worth.
So yeah, that's something I wanted to get off my chest before I moved on and could progress and do something with this newsletter. It felt like a block to address, without which I wouldn't feel right resurrecting the newsletter. If you're still interested and want to keep reading, you have my gratitude. If not, I totally understand.
In any case--this is the return.
I have so much to say and write about that I've really been dying to for ages. I have missed doing this. So I'm delighted to be doing it once more.
And I have missed hearing the thoughts and feedback from the many lovely folks who have read this newsletter to date.
I hope you're all well and taking care as best you can in what are very dreadful, trying times.
Speak to you soon once more.
Ritesh