It's impossible to read every article you might actually care about on Substack. Even if you stick to just your most central niche - even if you did just movies and scrapped anything about TV - you *still* couldn't read it all. Some weeks I'm here for eveyone else. Other weeks I can barely keep up with whatever workload I've given myself. That's just life in a modenr 24/7 connected global ecosystem. There are too many of us, even as our voices barely move any needles.
That said, I'm with you on regularly taking stock of what I'm writing and why. Think pieces are fine, even hot takes, but sometimes I think Substack writers get stuck in cultual opinion lift-ups or takedowns of every single piece of media or topic. It's great if you think the theatrical experience is superior, but I then often find these same writers failing to find joy in most movies, or it's joy tempered by too many carfeful considerations, and I can't help but think "is this level/speed of consumption a positive for the medium? Or part of the problem?" Whatever the work of creative endeavor - that damn thing likely took years for someone to make. And here we are rattling through them like bullets in a goddamn gattling gun. Cranking out day-of thoughts before hurdle-jumping to the next. While screaming about the sanctity of the theatrical experience. These things mostly do not go together. There can be (and often is) a cognitive dissonance to it all.
There's also the issue of there being a "Film Stack" - a whole subsection that talks about nothing but. Is this a good thing? Film writers only following other film writers and the whole lot circling the whirlpool gravity of their collective togetherness? My own thoughts/doubts recently have turned towad un-nichification. Substack is kind of like an old-school Newspaper. Any mentally healthy individual reads more than one section of a newspaper. And I think it's important we keep ourselves from obsessing over obsessions (and our personal branding.) Be a film Substack, but go read, share, and comment on non-film substacks. Be a full human, even on the internet. The past decade has trained us not to be this, to only be a specific KIND of human when online. And I think we'll always run into doubts that we're "Film Bros" or (in my case) "Wine Snobs" or "Book Dorks" or "Political Junkies" or etc etc if this is the only thing we're herre for, orr the only lens we see anything through.
Substack's size and breadth is intimidating, but also, I suspect, the answer to many previous online environment's ills. We can be more than one thing here. We actually are more than one thing IRL. The better we can mirror our true selves here on Substack, the less we'll face crises of purpose or identity.
Now, if you really DON'T think of anything else or explore anything else IRL, that's it's own issue :P
God bless you, Dave. This hit like a deep breath and a reset button. The “gatling gun” line alone deserves its own pull quote. You’re right—there’s real dissonance in sprinting through films while preaching reverence for the theatrical experience. I’ve felt that guilt. Quietly. Often.
Your point about un-nichifying? That’s gospel. Substack can be a place to show up as more than one thing, and your reminder landed exactly when I needed it. Thank you, sincerely.
Btw, a chunk of my childhood was spent in the Philippines (Subic Bay), I actually lived there longer than any other place before adulthood, and while I was sheltered on an American navy base and so never learned Tagalog, I picked up words here and there, and it's always nostalgic for me to see/hear some Tagalog terms again!
Really enjoyed this, Enrico; feeling “seen” (as the cliche goes) in ways that were both amusing and, at times, uncomfortably familiar. It’s probably fair to say that much of my adult life has been spent negotiating around the idea of the Film Bro. I studied film at university (UK) in the early 2000s and have since worked as an academic, writer, and podcaster. Like you, I’ve had to navigate shifting trends, evolving platforms, and more than one cycle of crisis in masculinity, both personal and cultural.
I’m currently working on a piece about revisiting American Psycho at 51, having first seen it at 25 (FFS!). That viewing then was filtered through a very different lens, more stylistic awe, less structural critique, and now, it feels like a confrontation with a younger version of myself and the masculinities I once absorbed without question.
I snorted agreement at your criteria for “Film Bro-ness”. And recognised how I’ve consciously tried to avoid, critique or move beyond them. That’s been a core thread in The Cinematologists, the podcast I’ve co-hosted for the past decade. As two male hosts talking about films we regularly articulate an anti-film-broness, and tried to use the show as a space not just for cinephilia, but for interrogating the power dynamics that often shape who gets to speak and how (very worthy, I know)
The concept of the Film Kuya is fascinating. That notion of being the “older brother of cinema”, is a idea that struck such a cord. We’ve talked about that ethos on the podcast quite a bit, and as a film lecturer, it’s definitely the sensibility I aim for when I’m at my best: reflection, enthusiasm, and open conversation, rather than taste performance or just binary categorising.
There was a pang of melancholy too, because I don’t think I ever had a Film Kuya myself. No one to mentor or guide me through my early encounters with cinema. Maybe that’s why I’ve tried to be that figure for others, even if imperfectly.
I enjoyed the balance of irony and humour of your piece, but underneath it, there’s something really honest and affecting about the contradictions and shifting sands of masculinity - particularly as it relates to cinephilia and identity performance. However we define our “cinematic selves,” it’s clear those definitions are as "in flux" as they've ever been. Film-bro-ness is another iteration of territory marking.
Dario, thank you so much for this thoughtful and deeply generous comment. You captured something that’s really hit me since publishing this—not just here, but from people in my life who’ve read it and reflected back: this isn’t just about what we love; it’s about how others conveniently label or lump us, whether we fit their box or not.
Your reflection on being a Film Kuya for others (especially without having had one yourself) really touched me. That’s exactly the spirit I was hoping to land on: reflection, enthusiasm, openness—not taste performance or gatekeeping.
I’m grateful this resonated with you, and I’d love to read that American Psycho piece when it’s up. Thanks again for meeting the humor and the heart here.
No worries Enrico. Without falling into woe is me, poor man territory, the very concept of masculinity is something that is at best uncertain, at worse untenable. There's almost a sense of having to embody, enact many contradictory ways of being, and apply them appropriately in different contexts, with the proviso that you can be "wrong" in that at any moment. I'm glad I'm not in my 20s dealing with it. One of the advantages in in being 50+ is you do reach more of a settled sense of self, and can give less of a fuck about others' judgements. Thanks for subscribing btw.
There’s such a constant, exhausting negotiation around masculinity today: showing up, softening, performing, pulling back—only to risk being “wrong” at any point. I really appreciate your perspective, especially the reminder that age can bring a little more settledness (and a lot more freedom from caring about external judgment). Honestly, that’s something I’m aiming toward, too. Grateful for this exchange—and happy to be following your work!
Finally got around to this as I'm putting the finishing touches on tomorrow's Dial of Destiny piece; safely one of my favourite things I've read in some time.
I'm particularly fond of your indictment of the performance of loving film and weaponizing taste as identity. Recently, I've been navigating a similar dilemma as a film critic who hates modern film criticism. Far too often, it's not actually the film that's at the center of the discussion, but the person that's trying to talk about it; this can mean giving gratuitous praise so that they get invited back to the next screening, but it can also mean firing off gratuitous cynicism so as to fulfill some misguided fantasy of what a critic should be.
I've trafficked in both in the past, but I look at all of it now and wonder why we're not identifying a genuine love for the artform as our reason for being film critics. Should the aim of the critic not be construction? To intellectualize the way a film can work or could have worked? To honour the supposed honesty and creative journey of the artist while offering a light to build viewer discussion around? When I inevitably write my own piece of criticism on The Brutalist, I'll be urging people to view it primarily as a portrait of America rather than the immigrant experience (which I think to be the lens that serves the film best), but the points you raise in your own review are no less salient in terms of how to/not handle an immigrant story.
Common in both of our perspectives, however, is a desire for film to be better, to be approached/made better, to be loved from the best, most honest possible place within ourselves as viewers. Kuya behaviour, in other words, and that, from my perspective, has always been apparent in your writing and engagement with FilmStack.
Charlotte, truly—thank you. You’re one of the few voices on here (no joke) whose posts I never skip because you write with such clarity, beauty, and care.
You’re right: this whole reflection was born out of wanting to approach film from the most honest, love-filled place, even when it’s messy or conflicted. And honestly, for all its millions of flaws as an Indiana Jones flick, Dial of Destiny now holds a permanently melancholy place in my heart—it became the last true cinematic adventure my father and I shared. I’m still in awe of how the cinematic gods orchestrated that. The man who introduced me to film, the reason I became a filmmaker, unintentionally bookended by Indy films.
So when people dismiss it as “just nostalgia,” it stings a little—because it’s different when cinema is something you share with someone you love. That’s not nostalgia; that’s memory, that’s connection.
Thank you again for reading this and reflecting so generously back. I’m deeply grateful. I can’t wait to read your Dial of Destiny piece.
Hi Enrico - firstly, heartfelt condolences for the loss of your father.
It's interesting that I'm reading this now - I wrote 2 articles about my own slight 'discombobulation'
I'd like to make a few observations
- perhaps it's just me but I didn't know the term 'Film Bro' until you explained it & I watched the Video. Don't forget that, like your 'Directing: Orchestrating Chaos into Greatness' - some of us are here, learning new things about something we love. Don't underestimate the teaching moments, 'Window into...' your world
- Like Charlotte's comment below, I'm struck by how the video and your article doesn't speak to the art form that is film, the love of the process, and technique - which is evident in your articles. Perhaps the absence, of these elements that you value, by Film Bros, is why the term irks you?
-Like my own 'discombobulation' (see my article on Monday) I wonder if Substack-ing has made you second guess the purpose and values of what you want to do here? Who's your audience and what's the purpose?
Here's a few ideas:
- Sharing your art form, technical process with examples in a new section for the Naives like me! (like the Directing article)
- Film art history lessons, or Genre- lessons - as a Film Educator
- Film mentoring for other less experienced directors, or how to get your foot in the door
- the cultural commentary on film evolution e.g. from early cinema critics to film bros
You get the picture. I think you're seeing how some people are 'doing Substack' and not comfortable. So I recommend thinking blue sky and reframe your approach to meet your values and goals. Or team up with folks to cover lessons/areas.
FYI I didn't delve into personal core values and purpose - the first places a mentor would go with what you've shared...if that's something of interest checkout Helen Tupper and Sarah Ellis ' The Squiggly Career' Chapter 3
Thank you so much for this kind and thoughtful comment—and for your condolences about my father. That means a lot.
You’ve given me such a generous perspective here. I really appreciate you pointing out the teaching moments—sometimes I forget that sharing the art, the process, and the technical side can be just as meaningful to readers as the cultural commentary. You’re absolutely right: part of what unsettles me about the “Film Bro” dynamic is that it often skips over the love of craft and process I value so deeply.
Your suggestions are fantastic, and they’ve honestly sparked a lot of ideas. I think you’re right that this piece—and the responses it’s sparked—has made me reconsider not just what I want to say on Substack, but how I want to show up here. I’ll check out The Squiggly Career as well—thank you for the recommendation!
I’m so glad we’re connected here, and I’m excited to read more of your reflections, too.
The love and passion you have for your metier is clear in your articles, I often think we each have a smooth writing-voice rhythm when things are in-synch. Mine jittered this week so it was easy to relate in this article.
FYI Don't forget that my small business, fitting around caregiving - is mentoring (after 2 decades in leadership, developing & mentoring talent) it's a privilege to be part of people's journey's, their evolution and seeing them realise their own potential.. perhaps I see you may resonate with doing that for others too.
It's impossible to read every article you might actually care about on Substack. Even if you stick to just your most central niche - even if you did just movies and scrapped anything about TV - you *still* couldn't read it all. Some weeks I'm here for eveyone else. Other weeks I can barely keep up with whatever workload I've given myself. That's just life in a modenr 24/7 connected global ecosystem. There are too many of us, even as our voices barely move any needles.
That said, I'm with you on regularly taking stock of what I'm writing and why. Think pieces are fine, even hot takes, but sometimes I think Substack writers get stuck in cultual opinion lift-ups or takedowns of every single piece of media or topic. It's great if you think the theatrical experience is superior, but I then often find these same writers failing to find joy in most movies, or it's joy tempered by too many carfeful considerations, and I can't help but think "is this level/speed of consumption a positive for the medium? Or part of the problem?" Whatever the work of creative endeavor - that damn thing likely took years for someone to make. And here we are rattling through them like bullets in a goddamn gattling gun. Cranking out day-of thoughts before hurdle-jumping to the next. While screaming about the sanctity of the theatrical experience. These things mostly do not go together. There can be (and often is) a cognitive dissonance to it all.
There's also the issue of there being a "Film Stack" - a whole subsection that talks about nothing but. Is this a good thing? Film writers only following other film writers and the whole lot circling the whirlpool gravity of their collective togetherness? My own thoughts/doubts recently have turned towad un-nichification. Substack is kind of like an old-school Newspaper. Any mentally healthy individual reads more than one section of a newspaper. And I think it's important we keep ourselves from obsessing over obsessions (and our personal branding.) Be a film Substack, but go read, share, and comment on non-film substacks. Be a full human, even on the internet. The past decade has trained us not to be this, to only be a specific KIND of human when online. And I think we'll always run into doubts that we're "Film Bros" or (in my case) "Wine Snobs" or "Book Dorks" or "Political Junkies" or etc etc if this is the only thing we're herre for, orr the only lens we see anything through.
Substack's size and breadth is intimidating, but also, I suspect, the answer to many previous online environment's ills. We can be more than one thing here. We actually are more than one thing IRL. The better we can mirror our true selves here on Substack, the less we'll face crises of purpose or identity.
Now, if you really DON'T think of anything else or explore anything else IRL, that's it's own issue :P
God bless you, Dave. This hit like a deep breath and a reset button. The “gatling gun” line alone deserves its own pull quote. You’re right—there’s real dissonance in sprinting through films while preaching reverence for the theatrical experience. I’ve felt that guilt. Quietly. Often.
Your point about un-nichifying? That’s gospel. Substack can be a place to show up as more than one thing, and your reminder landed exactly when I needed it. Thank you, sincerely.
Btw, a chunk of my childhood was spent in the Philippines (Subic Bay), I actually lived there longer than any other place before adulthood, and while I was sheltered on an American navy base and so never learned Tagalog, I picked up words here and there, and it's always nostalgic for me to see/hear some Tagalog terms again!
I love that! Full disclosure: my Tagalog is terrible. I only know familiar phrases as well and can understand, but I struggle.
Really enjoyed this, Enrico; feeling “seen” (as the cliche goes) in ways that were both amusing and, at times, uncomfortably familiar. It’s probably fair to say that much of my adult life has been spent negotiating around the idea of the Film Bro. I studied film at university (UK) in the early 2000s and have since worked as an academic, writer, and podcaster. Like you, I’ve had to navigate shifting trends, evolving platforms, and more than one cycle of crisis in masculinity, both personal and cultural.
I’m currently working on a piece about revisiting American Psycho at 51, having first seen it at 25 (FFS!). That viewing then was filtered through a very different lens, more stylistic awe, less structural critique, and now, it feels like a confrontation with a younger version of myself and the masculinities I once absorbed without question.
I snorted agreement at your criteria for “Film Bro-ness”. And recognised how I’ve consciously tried to avoid, critique or move beyond them. That’s been a core thread in The Cinematologists, the podcast I’ve co-hosted for the past decade. As two male hosts talking about films we regularly articulate an anti-film-broness, and tried to use the show as a space not just for cinephilia, but for interrogating the power dynamics that often shape who gets to speak and how (very worthy, I know)
The concept of the Film Kuya is fascinating. That notion of being the “older brother of cinema”, is a idea that struck such a cord. We’ve talked about that ethos on the podcast quite a bit, and as a film lecturer, it’s definitely the sensibility I aim for when I’m at my best: reflection, enthusiasm, and open conversation, rather than taste performance or just binary categorising.
There was a pang of melancholy too, because I don’t think I ever had a Film Kuya myself. No one to mentor or guide me through my early encounters with cinema. Maybe that’s why I’ve tried to be that figure for others, even if imperfectly.
I enjoyed the balance of irony and humour of your piece, but underneath it, there’s something really honest and affecting about the contradictions and shifting sands of masculinity - particularly as it relates to cinephilia and identity performance. However we define our “cinematic selves,” it’s clear those definitions are as "in flux" as they've ever been. Film-bro-ness is another iteration of territory marking.
Thanks again for this, it resonated.
Dario, thank you so much for this thoughtful and deeply generous comment. You captured something that’s really hit me since publishing this—not just here, but from people in my life who’ve read it and reflected back: this isn’t just about what we love; it’s about how others conveniently label or lump us, whether we fit their box or not.
Your reflection on being a Film Kuya for others (especially without having had one yourself) really touched me. That’s exactly the spirit I was hoping to land on: reflection, enthusiasm, openness—not taste performance or gatekeeping.
I’m grateful this resonated with you, and I’d love to read that American Psycho piece when it’s up. Thanks again for meeting the humor and the heart here.
No worries Enrico. Without falling into woe is me, poor man territory, the very concept of masculinity is something that is at best uncertain, at worse untenable. There's almost a sense of having to embody, enact many contradictory ways of being, and apply them appropriately in different contexts, with the proviso that you can be "wrong" in that at any moment. I'm glad I'm not in my 20s dealing with it. One of the advantages in in being 50+ is you do reach more of a settled sense of self, and can give less of a fuck about others' judgements. Thanks for subscribing btw.
There’s such a constant, exhausting negotiation around masculinity today: showing up, softening, performing, pulling back—only to risk being “wrong” at any point. I really appreciate your perspective, especially the reminder that age can bring a little more settledness (and a lot more freedom from caring about external judgment). Honestly, that’s something I’m aiming toward, too. Grateful for this exchange—and happy to be following your work!
Finally got around to this as I'm putting the finishing touches on tomorrow's Dial of Destiny piece; safely one of my favourite things I've read in some time.
I'm particularly fond of your indictment of the performance of loving film and weaponizing taste as identity. Recently, I've been navigating a similar dilemma as a film critic who hates modern film criticism. Far too often, it's not actually the film that's at the center of the discussion, but the person that's trying to talk about it; this can mean giving gratuitous praise so that they get invited back to the next screening, but it can also mean firing off gratuitous cynicism so as to fulfill some misguided fantasy of what a critic should be.
I've trafficked in both in the past, but I look at all of it now and wonder why we're not identifying a genuine love for the artform as our reason for being film critics. Should the aim of the critic not be construction? To intellectualize the way a film can work or could have worked? To honour the supposed honesty and creative journey of the artist while offering a light to build viewer discussion around? When I inevitably write my own piece of criticism on The Brutalist, I'll be urging people to view it primarily as a portrait of America rather than the immigrant experience (which I think to be the lens that serves the film best), but the points you raise in your own review are no less salient in terms of how to/not handle an immigrant story.
Common in both of our perspectives, however, is a desire for film to be better, to be approached/made better, to be loved from the best, most honest possible place within ourselves as viewers. Kuya behaviour, in other words, and that, from my perspective, has always been apparent in your writing and engagement with FilmStack.
Thank you for this, Enrico, truly.
Charlotte, truly—thank you. You’re one of the few voices on here (no joke) whose posts I never skip because you write with such clarity, beauty, and care.
You’re right: this whole reflection was born out of wanting to approach film from the most honest, love-filled place, even when it’s messy or conflicted. And honestly, for all its millions of flaws as an Indiana Jones flick, Dial of Destiny now holds a permanently melancholy place in my heart—it became the last true cinematic adventure my father and I shared. I’m still in awe of how the cinematic gods orchestrated that. The man who introduced me to film, the reason I became a filmmaker, unintentionally bookended by Indy films.
So when people dismiss it as “just nostalgia,” it stings a little—because it’s different when cinema is something you share with someone you love. That’s not nostalgia; that’s memory, that’s connection.
Thank you again for reading this and reflecting so generously back. I’m deeply grateful. I can’t wait to read your Dial of Destiny piece.
Hi Enrico - firstly, heartfelt condolences for the loss of your father.
It's interesting that I'm reading this now - I wrote 2 articles about my own slight 'discombobulation'
I'd like to make a few observations
- perhaps it's just me but I didn't know the term 'Film Bro' until you explained it & I watched the Video. Don't forget that, like your 'Directing: Orchestrating Chaos into Greatness' - some of us are here, learning new things about something we love. Don't underestimate the teaching moments, 'Window into...' your world
- Like Charlotte's comment below, I'm struck by how the video and your article doesn't speak to the art form that is film, the love of the process, and technique - which is evident in your articles. Perhaps the absence, of these elements that you value, by Film Bros, is why the term irks you?
-Like my own 'discombobulation' (see my article on Monday) I wonder if Substack-ing has made you second guess the purpose and values of what you want to do here? Who's your audience and what's the purpose?
Here's a few ideas:
- Sharing your art form, technical process with examples in a new section for the Naives like me! (like the Directing article)
- Film art history lessons, or Genre- lessons - as a Film Educator
- Film mentoring for other less experienced directors, or how to get your foot in the door
- the cultural commentary on film evolution e.g. from early cinema critics to film bros
You get the picture. I think you're seeing how some people are 'doing Substack' and not comfortable. So I recommend thinking blue sky and reframe your approach to meet your values and goals. Or team up with folks to cover lessons/areas.
FYI I didn't delve into personal core values and purpose - the first places a mentor would go with what you've shared...if that's something of interest checkout Helen Tupper and Sarah Ellis ' The Squiggly Career' Chapter 3
Thank you so much for this kind and thoughtful comment—and for your condolences about my father. That means a lot.
You’ve given me such a generous perspective here. I really appreciate you pointing out the teaching moments—sometimes I forget that sharing the art, the process, and the technical side can be just as meaningful to readers as the cultural commentary. You’re absolutely right: part of what unsettles me about the “Film Bro” dynamic is that it often skips over the love of craft and process I value so deeply.
Your suggestions are fantastic, and they’ve honestly sparked a lot of ideas. I think you’re right that this piece—and the responses it’s sparked—has made me reconsider not just what I want to say on Substack, but how I want to show up here. I’ll check out The Squiggly Career as well—thank you for the recommendation!
I’m so glad we’re connected here, and I’m excited to read more of your reflections, too.
You're very welcome, Enrico.
The love and passion you have for your metier is clear in your articles, I often think we each have a smooth writing-voice rhythm when things are in-synch. Mine jittered this week so it was easy to relate in this article.
FYI Don't forget that my small business, fitting around caregiving - is mentoring (after 2 decades in leadership, developing & mentoring talent) it's a privilege to be part of people's journey's, their evolution and seeing them realise their own potential.. perhaps I see you may resonate with doing that for others too.