I have tried to subscribe to the theory that since opinions about works of art are subjective, the wisest thing to say if you dislike something is to admit simply, “It wasn’t for me.” Every so often I fail to follow that wise advice.

Facebook Memories just reminded me of such a moment, when 10 years ago I wrote: “In other movie reviews – All is Lost: 105 minutes I will never be able to get back. Only recommended if you like watching a character you barely know slowly drown over more than an hour and a half. The title gives away the ending.”

I don’t remember much detail about the movie, but my words from a decade ago brought back the frustration and disappointment I felt after investing those 105 minutes in a story that ended with the hero sinking under the water one last time.

I was drawn to the film because it was described as an acting tour de force, a one-man show by Robert Redford as a man who battles time and the elements after his sailboat is disabled and he is lost and alone in the middle of the ocean. To that extent, the movie is as described.

I also was recently reminded that J.R.R. Tolkien thought all great stories were about the clash between powers of good and evil with good ultimately triumphing against all odds. I saw that thought in the context of a piece where Tolkien disagreed with the epics of Frank Herbert and George R.R. Martin. In that case, Tolkien would have hated All is Lost, too.

I suppose one could argue that it is a realistic movie, in that life is a long and noble struggle but ultimately we all die. But what is the point in telling a long and heroic story where the hero loses his battle and dies a pointless death? Nothing in All is Lost suggests that the death of Redford’s character meant anything.

I already know that, after all the striving to create meaning and valuable in this life, in the final chapter it all comes to an end, at least as far as this mortal coil is concerned. If I’m going to spend my precious time on a story about that striving, I would prefer that the story provide some hope and encouragement that it was worth the effort, and even that good will prevail, even if it’s just a little. All that this film left me with was a shrug and “Oh, what’s the use? May as well just give up.”

I guess I could have sucked it up, taken a deep breath and just told people, “That wasn’t my kind of movie.” No, sometimes I have to jump up, object and explain loudly why I actively disliked that movie.

And don’t even get me started on Titanic, a bloated shipwreck twice as long as All is Lost, filled with unsympathetic characters I barely cared about. At least what little we ever learned about Redford’s character makes him sympathetic. 

I have ranted about Titanic to friends and received the equivalent of a pat on the shoulder and “There, there.” Come to think of it, I think that’s why I started saving time and saying, “It wasn’t for me.”