Above, I tried to trick you by saying “our reactions are our opinions,” but by my definition, that’s not true. You’re expressing your reaction when you say “I don’t like the lens flares.” You’re expressing your opinion when you say “there were too many lens flares.” See the difference?
There were exactly the right number of lens flares in Star Trek, because Abrams put in exactly as many as he wanted. And when he put fewer in Star Trek: Into Darkness, that was right too — because it was the opinion of the filmmaker that a movie where we go “into darkness” might not be as bright as the previous chapter.
If you’re still having a hard time seeing my distinction between reactions and opinions, here’s a helpful rule of thumb. Your reaction doesn’t require anyone else to be wrong.
Recently, J.J. said in an interview that he looks back at his use of lens flares in Star Trek as a bit excessive. The internet (not you, the other internet) jumped all over this. “I’m vindicated!” said The Internet, “J.J. finally admitted that I was right all along about the flares!”
No. That’s not what happened. What happened is that a creative, cool guy tried something fun in a big movie, and now he’s made a few more movies, and he’s tried other things in those, and he looks back at one of his experiments and thinks, “wow, I sure did have a lot of fun with that, maybe even a bit too much by my current standards.” His current standards, which are different than they were a few years ago.
Because his opinion changed.
Smart, cool, creative people change their opinions. It’s necessary that they do so, because they sell their opinions for a living, and they need new material to stay in business. Smart, cool, creative people know that their opinions are not them. Their opinions are a snapshot of them, at a particular time, under a particular set of circumstances.
The “you” that matters is not your opinion. What matters is the “you” that can thoughtfully generate an independent opinion. And that you changes over time. Opinions that don’t change when presented with new circumstances are not opinions, they’re dogma. That bar in Emeryville? Its menu is now completely different from when Clinton and I first started meeting there. Yet it’s unmistakably the same bar.
Here’s a universal characteristic of people who have figured this out: They celebrate the opinions of others, even when they don’t agree with them. They try a new dish, or a new cocktail, or watch a new film, with eager anticipation to be exposed to something new — something that challenges, instead of panders to, their expectations.
They understand that opinions matter when creating, but only reactions have value when partaking. Your opinion about the lens flares in Star Trek can have value — but only if you use it to inform something you create.
Embrace the Mystery
There’s not a film I can watch where the director will have had all the same opinions as I might have. Consequently, if I’m ever to enjoy any movie, I have to switch my mindset from filmmaker to audience. And as an audience, I want to be like a customer of Jiro’s sushi. Don’t show me a menu. Don’t ask what I like. Just make me something great.
Would I have done things differently than J.J in the Star Wars teaser? Sure. Does that mean I can’t enjoy it? Quite the contrary. After working my butt off on a few Star Wars movies (and one Star Trek) I’m so excited to be just one of the crowd — watching and reacting to the new Star Wars.
And nothing would be more boring than if it perfectly met every one of my expectations.
Life is short, and experiences are all we get. So have them, embrace them, even actively try to enjoy them. Seek out ones that challenge you. Then, later, by all means, consider both your reaction, and, yes, even your opinion about those experiences.
And here’s a crazy thought. At least for a little while, try keeping it to yourself. The crowd is a bad author. So just sit back, relax, and enjoy the glorious luxury of experiencing someone else’s opinion.
But do keep your opinions handy, because you'll need them when it comes time to make something of your own.