A 'Situationship' with a Film Bro: An Art School Romance

It was February when I began to consider myself a romantic instead of a hopeless romantic.

Throughout my teenage years, I thought I would be won over with a grand gesture and confession from a guy about how much I meant to him, how much he cared about me, and how he promised to never wrong me. I pictured him holding a bouquet of Gerbera Daisies, because he somehow knew they were my favorite.

Instead, all it took were three simple words: “You like Hitchcock?”

There were two posters—one of Robert Smith and Michael Dempsey and another of Dial M for Murder—plastered onto the walls of my freshman dorm. No one ever commented on them, mainly because my friends didn’t watch Hitchcock movies and most people my age who knew The Cure didn’t know what the band members looked like. So when he walked into my room that Thursday evening, I was speechless.

“Most people know Psycho,” he continued, “but Dial M for Murder? That’s a good one. Not too many people know that one.”

“Yeah, but Rear Window is my favorite,” I replied.

My parents had raised me to enjoy reading Western Political Thought as a pre-teen. Family movie nights often featured Ingrid Bergman or Jimmy Stewart. My father’s favorite film was North by Northwest and my mother’s favorite poet was Sylvia Plath; this cultural epoch found solace in my West Chicago home as a child.

This environment also made me a Film Bro’s worst nightmare.

Photo by Aris Liang

In case you are unaware, a “Film Bro” is someone (usually male) who enjoys movies like Fight Club and The Godfather, as well as other popular classic films. They rave about Tarantino and Hitchcock in a pretentious (and often misogynistic) manner. They need everyone to know they’re a film nerd, but in a way that makes it seem like they know more about cinema than anyone within a five-mile radius does.

I  conversed with this particular Film Bro about all of his interests, which he insisted were “very unique” and all “hot takes.” We talked for hours about the best cinematographers and what HBO series had the strongest writing. We called this flirting. Our friends called this arguing.

A Film Bro cannot have a conversation if they are disagreed with; they need to ensure they are always right, no matter the circumstances.

It is not possible for a Film Bro to engage in a genuine conversation; they can only argue, as they are always defensive. Each time someone opens their mouth in the same room as a Film Bro, the Film Bro is simply waiting to disagree, or to loudly and publicly declare their opinion.

After leaving the lacrosse house in tears one evening because of him, I realized that what I had with the Film Bro wasn’t romance. It was a pure, burning anger that I had mistaken for passion. Every time we interacted, I left feeling more empty than I did full. Whether it was a simple hello walking to class, or a night out, I couldn’t help but feel entirely disappointed by a connection I had worked so hard to maintain.

A Sunday in the dining hall after a lacrosse party was a social experiment in and of itself. It was impossible not to run into people you saw the previous night. If there was a massive Emerson party, you would hug people like they were your best friends, despite only ever speaking to them during your 10 am ethics lecture. 

That following Sunday, during brunch in the dining hall, I felt like I’d run into everyone I’d met at college. They asked what happened last night or why I left so early, holding back tears. At the end of each sentence, they’d glance over their shoulder at the Film Bro sitting a few tables away, a grin on his face as he loudly explained the psychology behind The Godfather trilogy.

As this meal progressed, the smaller Emerson seemed to get. While I understood that Emerson was the same size as my high school, I didn’t quite realize it until I began to get more involved, with both people and organizations. Everyone was connected to one another, at least in some capacity, which meant they had to know the person responsible for my theatrics from the previous evening. So I would smile at them and shrug over my plate of scrambled eggs and potatoes, without saying anything, to let them know my heartbreak was because of a Film Bro.

Despite proclaiming myself as a romantic weeks prior, I resorted to being a hopeless romantic that day. I learned that rarely would someone find romance beyond a situationship at a small liberal arts college, especially when dealing with Film Bros. And everyone was bound to know about it.