In a year where I couldn’t feign intelligence by participating in discourse surrounding movies deemed culturally significant, I really leaned into music. The key difference between film and music during a pandemic is watching a new movie in your living room eating microwave popcorn feels sad, while listening to an album in the dark staring at your bedroom ceiling has always been — and will always be — the ideal first listening experience.
Thankfully, the great artists of our world — in a move sold as charitable, though the true intentions could likely be traced back to capitalism — provided us with a bounty of music to make it through 2020. By “the great artists,” I mean women, of course.
How did the first person to read the Bible feel before opening its cover? Were they intimidated, holding what has been famously advertised as a second-hand account of the literal creation of the universe?
If so, I get it; I felt the same fear of God staring down the expansive discography of Madonna.
For years I put this off, knowing the day I pressed play on the first song off the first album would be arguably more important than my hypothetical wedding day, or the hypothetical birth of the child I’ll never have. Here’s the thing:
After five years and six seasons, it seems that the cultural conversation has finally caught up with “Schitt’s Creek” — just in time for its early bow-out. And while losing the show is a travesty for all — save for co-creator Dan Levy, who stands firm in his decision — there are some silver linings to its demise; namely the overdue love the show is predicted to receive at this year’s Emmy Awards (in whatever capacity they happen to take place).