The opinions expressed in this article are the writer’s own and do not reflect the views of Her Campus.

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Toronto MU chapter.

It was a cold, dark February night, and the only thing keeping me warm was a wool blanket and watching The Holdovers with my mom.

The night was filled with laughter, watching Barton Academy’s irritable, yet funny classics professor Paul Hunham (played by Paul Giamatti) and his student Angus Tully (played by Dominic Sessa) skate on the Boston Common Frog Pond. Their comedic banter kept us laughing and smiling throughout our watch.

And I knew at that moment, there was no other place I would rather be.

Bring me back to Boston. I want to skate with my unbiological dysfunctional family. The world needs more Dominic Sessa.

My mind begins to wander, no longer venturing with Hunham and Tully across the great city of Boston. Instead, I find myself rifling through a list of witty-one liners, grasping onto anything that would make the perfect review.

It’s when Hunham and Tully scan the shelves of Brattle Book Shop, that I finally settle on “the one.”

This film is the cinematic equivalent of grilled cheese and tomato soup.

We have a winner, folks.

Coming up with that review felt like a puzzle piece that was slotted into its rightful place. There’s something so gratifying about landing on a frivolous comment to encapsulate the essence of a movie.

And knowing that the task was complete, I could finally watch the rest of the story unfold in peace.

But despite my best efforts to remain stable, I fail to hold back tears when professor Paul Hunham exits Barton Academy for the last time in his prolonged tenure — a bittersweet end to this grilled cheese/tomato soup-esque movie.

I wipe away the tears quickly, as the end credits come on.

As the names of the cast and crew members slide on-and-off the screen, I know it’s showtime. Without hesitation, my hand reaches for my phone, in search of one thing: Letterboxd — the new phenomenon of cinema.

Letterboxd allows its users to rate, review, and log films. The app has become a social network among film lovers enabling users to view other profiles, film diaries (movies they watched) and their watchlists (movies they want to watch).

What started as a New Zealand-based platform, has become a hit on an international scale. The app’s popularity increased during the COVID-19 pandemic, and since March it has surmounted to 13 million members in more than 190 countries.

For me, Letterboxd has become part of the cinematic experience.

Throughout the day, I find myself logging my own reviews or marvelling at the humour of other people’s thoughts and feelings on films (and sometimes beating myself up for not coming up with that myself).

And sometimes the funniest reviews stir me to re-write my own, hoping whatever I create can be paralleled to the humour on this app.

But what happened to just watching a movie?

While some may claim that Letterboxd has eclipsed the simplicity of turning on a movie, I believe that the app has flourished in the world of cinema and moviegoers alike.

Every time I open the app, there’s a sense of belonging that washes over me. I am walking into a community of people who share the same love for movies. Though we might like different movies, our love for the arts is steadfast.

I find joy in scrolling through lists of movies that people have created:

“I’m just a girl” (me too.)

“for when you want to feel something” (you get it.)

“straight from the dead poets society” (the list that inspired me to watch The Holdovers.)

These are my people.

In full truth, I don’t know all the ins and outs of Hollywood and every niche sub-genre of film, but on Letterboxd I am swept away in a world where I am constantly exposed to new motion pictures and fascinating tidbits of the film industry.

That’s what keeps me crawling back for more.

But mostly, I find comfort in knowing that there are people just like me — people who find solace in the beauty of cinema. Or people who come home from a strenuous day at work or school and turn on a good movie because it’s the only thing that could keep them sane.

Whenever movies become a topic of conversation, I am quick to ask, “Do you have Letterboxd?” It’s a question I pose at every turn, curious to see if those I’m talking to have felt the same thrill when I log a review or discover my next favourite movie.

Over the past two years, Letterboxd has become my time capsule of cinematic history.

Scrolling through my diary is like walking down an immersive memory lane. Take my first recorded film: Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery which I watched with my cousins on Christmas Day. Or my most recently watched film You’ve Got Mail, another heartwarming Nora Ephron film that had me wondering how someone as brilliant as her could cease to exist.

As I look through the list, I know that the future of cinematography is limitless.

That diary holds the key to upcoming laughs, cries, and cheers. And maybe one day, it would harbour a new all-time favourite movie (although dethroning A Walk to Remember would be a tough feat).

But regardless, I know with Letterboxd, my love for movies will continue to grow. And that thought alone, will keep me in my seat (with some microwaveable buttered popcorn in hand).

A Love Letter To Letterboxd: A Personal Essay

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