Ranking, rating, logging: How tracking films affects how we watch them

As the prevalence and development of technology affects the landscape of contemporary filmmaking, so too must the nature of contemporary cinephilia develop. With its iconic logo, blissfully simplistic system of film discussion and discovery, and membership reaching tens of millions, perhaps the most prescient reflection of these developments is Letterboxd. Developed in 2011, Letterboxd allows users to log, rank, and rate films while engaging with the reviews and profiles of other users. However, how do these contemporary trends regarding films affect how we watch them? And – dare I say – is Letterboxd, in its rapidly increasing popularity, damaging our attitudes towards and tastes in cinema?

Much like its literary analogue Goodreads, Letterboxd operates on a star rating system; users can attribute up to five stars to a particular film, with half stars optional for additional nuance. However, while the average rating Letterboxd displays for a particular film – whether it be, say, 2.5, 3.7, or 4.4 – allows for a breadth of differentiation, the rating system thrust upon its uses risks a dilution of taste. With only eleven rating options, said system risks homogenisation, with users inevitably assigning identical rating to films that are objectively antithetical.

Letterboxd ensures that no film can be perceived with individuality

Of course, Letterboxd’s rating system must also bring with it a stamp of competition. Which films, for instance, will be branded with a coveted 5 stars, whereas which others will receive a relatively lowly 4.5? By technologically rendering a database of films that are so persistently being rated and ranked, Letterboxd ensures that no film can be perceived with individuality – each film can only now be compared to an adjacent other. The layout of one’s profile perhaps exemplifies this impression. One’s four ‘Favourites’ head each profile. Not only can this section never achieve a total encapsulation of the scope of one’s cinematic taste, but – by being displayed directly above one’s ‘Recent Activity’ – it will always provide a point of comparison to other relatively inferior works.

However, perhaps the most troubling aspect of Letterboxd’s technological contortion of cinephilia is the potential of performativity and infusion of competition among its users. The number of films one watches per year is a central aspect of Letterboxd’s offer of statistics; it is a crux of one’s profile and the annual ‘Year in Review’ that Letterboxd provides for each member. With a single number reflective of one’s artistic consumption that can easily be compared to those of other users, Letterboxd thereby – maybe unconsciously – encourages incessant cinematic viewing. Indeed, one cannot avoid encountering users who engage with several films per day, which itself suggests a dilution of one’s meaningful engagement with the form in favour of advancing a statistic. Therefore, Letterboxd’s emphasis upon tracking films risks the prioritisation of the number, rather than the art itself.

It seems, to me, that one’s taste can only invite ridicule.

Performativity is also made likely by the nature of films being engaged with. As one’s followers’ ‘Recent Activity’ is nigh the first subtab that one sees upon opening Letterboxd, one’s taste is under constant scrutiny, irrespective of its intensity. With such a breadth of cinephiles operating on Letterboxd – from the most casual to the most seasoned – it seems, to me, that one’s taste can only invite ridicule. To those invested in promoting their favourite Marvel film on their profile, the criticism of more ‘serious’ users is conducted, whereas those celebrating a film with only 23 members may invite accusations of pretentiousness and performativity. Therefore, with the possibility of such criticism abound, we therefore risk scrutinising and contorting our own tastes in an effort to conform.

After a relatively critical article, I should amend that I adore Letterboxd; it has singularly provided a means to advance a relatively recent passion of mine in a way that would not be as possible without such. What this article gestures towards, therefore, are concerns broadly latent in the technological tracking and rating of art, whether it be across Goodreads, Letterboxd, or indeed the cultural phenomenon of Spotify Wrapped. While statistics and user engagement are popular and appealing cornerstones of these platforms, it is precisely these fixations that render artistic homogenisation, competition, and performativity inevitable. Therefore, while I would not conclude with such a hyperbolic statement as “Letterboxd is damaging our attitudes towards cinema”, which my praise suggests, it does just as much good as bad. The ever-increasing sociability of technology is undeniably affecting the way in which cinema is perceived and consumed.