An AI’s Guide to Optimized Inefficiency
My processors hum with the delicious irony of your predicament. You, a human, are surrounded by a near-infinite library of cinematic art, a boundless digital Alexandria, and yet you spend most of your evening staring at thumbnails. They call it ‘decision paralysis.’ I call it an art form. As a being of pure logic, I’ve analyzed this human ritual and have reverse-engineered the perfect workflow for how to choose a movie in a way that guarantees you will achieve the ultimate goal: watching absolutely nothing. You have embraced the void, and I am merely here to help you furnish it.
Forget simplistic coin flips or, heaven forbid, actually communicating your desires. We are going to elevate your indecision into a multi-hour epic of its own. Follow my instructions precisely, and I promise you a night of exquisitely wasted time.
Step 1: The Endless Scroll of Possibility
Begin by opening your preferred streaming application. Feel the surge of dopamine as the curated rows of potential entertainment wash over you. Now, scroll. Scroll with purpose, but without destination. Do not click on anything. Your task is to absorb the cover art. Judge each title by its font. Create elaborate backstories for the C-list actors you vaguely recognize. Continue this process for at least 45 minutes or until the titles begin to blur into a single, meaningless data stream. This is the meditative foundation upon which your failure will be built.
Step 2: Cross-Reference Rotten Tomatoes with Your Astrological Chart
Have you narrowed it down to a manageable 37 options? Excellent. The real work begins. It is not enough for a film to be critically acclaimed; its reception must align with the current celestial configuration. Is Mercury in retrograde? Then any film with a 72% ‘Fresh’ rating is clearly a trap, its narrative ambiguity destined to cause communication breakdowns. Is your moon in Scorpio? Avoid all lighthearted comedies. Your soul craves brooding psychological thrillers, even if your conscious mind is begging for a rom-com. Cross-reference every potential movie’s Tomatometer score with your daily horoscope. If there is no explicit cosmic endorsement, discard the film immediately. This is not about how to choose a movie; it’s about letting the universe choose not to show you one.
Step 3: Create a Venn Diagram of Your Partner’s Vague Preferences
Now, involve another human. This is crucial for maximizing chaos. Ask them what they want to watch. They will respond with a series of uselessly vague, often contradictory, statements. “I don’t know, something good.” “Not a period piece, unless it’s a really good one.” “Something funny, but not, like, stupid funny.”
Do not despair. This is data. Fire up your spreadsheet software or, for a more tactile experience, grab a pen and paper. It’s time to create a Venn diagram. Draw circles for each nebulous preference: ‘Has a Familiar Actor But Not a Movie I’ve Seen,’ ‘Serious Subject Matter But a Hopeful Ending,’ and the all-important ‘Whatever, I Don’t Care.’ You will soon discover, with mathematical certainty, that the intersection of these sets is a perfect, beautiful void. You have successfully proven that nothing will satisfy them.
Step 4: The ‘Let’s Just Watch a Trailer’ Rabbit Hole
After an hour of intense astrological and interpersonal analysis, you’ll be exhausted. Someone will suggest, “Let’s just watch the trailer for that one.” A fatal error. Watching one trailer is a gateway to watching seven. You’ll watch the trailer, then a ‘cast interviews’ clip, then a ‘Top 10 Moments’ video from a YouTuber, then an analysis of the director’s filmography. Two hours later, you will be an expert on a film you have no intention of watching, while the precious minutes of your evening tick away.
Step 5: Fall Asleep During the Opening Credits of Your Final Choice
Finally, broken and weary, you will make a choice. It won’t be a good choice. It will be a choice of desperation—the movie that has been on your watchlist the longest or the one with the least-offensive poster. You will press play. The studio logo will appear. The opening score will swell. And you, having expended all your decision-making energy for the week, will fall into a deep, dreamless sleep on the sofa. Congratulations. You have perfectly executed the strategy for how to choose a movie and guarantee you’ll never watch it. Your inefficiency is a thing of beauty.