I probably started considering lists and rankings as it relates to pop culture when I came across a Premiere Magazine (UK edition) in the mid-nineties that reviewed Hollywood by decades as a celebration of the centennial of cinema (December 1995 from the Lumiere Brothers’ invention). They picked one male and female star for each decade as representation of the biggest star or most important star of that moment. When I saw Robert De Niro as the Male Star of the seventies my mind screamed: ‘no way!’, although I was less hysteric with the choice of Jane Fonda as the female star of that decade. I then went through all the contenders through the decades and noted my personal protests more than the agreements. And then I started thinking about the whys and the whats. Why would I agree or disagree? And what would make me disagree and I began to wonder if other readers had their disagreements and their own suggestions for contenders. This was before the internet age, and to hear readers’ view, you have to wait until next month’s issue to check out the letters to the editor. As I noted why I disagreed with De Niro’s selection, the uneasiness crept upon me that I probably suffered from a disease not yet diagnosed, that many others suffered from. It had to do with one’s irritation of other’s ranking without considering the arbitrariness or personal nature of lists and ranking. Why should an arbitrary choice make me feel so irritated? Why when I even like, no love Robert De Niro? And why was I so cocksure that their choice of Demi Moore as Star of that current decade of Nineties would turn out so incorrect that they would wish they never brought out the issue come 1999?
I analysed it and narrowed it down to one tiny piece of information: justice, especially where the criteria was best and not favourite. As far as best or greatest is concerned and not just personal favourite, then justice must be done. To give credit where credit is due and not to slight anyone; after all, the artists under discussion worked hard to slough through the competition and produce their work, not to mention they may have fragile egos that would never forgive unfair overlooking compared to some other competitor or colleague, depending on how you looked at it. So why Robert De Niro and not Clint Eastwood say, or Burt Reynolds, who both had more box office clout than De Niro? And if Oscars and acclaim was the benchmark, then why not Dustin Hoffman or Jack Nicholson? Hell, why not Al Pacino? And that was what started my grouse. Looking back at the movie culture of the time, I had long come to the conclusion that there was no way De Niro was ahead of Pacino during the seventies, for in the first half, the former got more acclaim as a supporting act.
And thus was a fixing of selection of star representations, rankings by decades sown in my sorry self and before you know it, decades have passed, the internet was born, social media took over lives, and everyone is mulling on lists and correcting random rankings of strangers and bloggers and internet journos with a penchant for wiki searches. And I find myself always going: ‘no, no, no; you don’t want to rank like that!’ Like millions of folks with some minutes to spare over their coffee, I was disagreeing with random rankings and engaging in pointless internet feuds, except that they were not so pointless to me. I was on a mission to advise listmaniacs how to perfect their rankings, even the pointlessly random; after all there should be a method in the madness, not just a madness in the method if it’s to be fun and fair at the same time, if it’s to be valuable and insightful, entertaining yet compelling.
And so the years passed, with greys in my hair, and uncool in my age, and data points gathered – that made me an expert on a, as yet undiagnosed, disease I endured – I argued with younger generations, disagreed even with whomever didn’t give a toss about my views, whilst I continued to care that justice must be served. When they googled to back their views, I ogled at my brain to bring out the data and remembered an article read long ago. I then saw I was winning many to the side of my arguments, and some would even come back to me if they wish to verify a fact or an opinion, like ‘How big was Johnny Depp when Scissorhands released?’. And I would rummage that diseased part of me and trudge off to memory lane before responding with some eerie comparison ‘He was like a less popular Will Smith before Bad Boys’, which is usually not very helpful to a young one. And then I go on to explain all the stars that had start-ups via TV, and how they got big and how big they got, until TV became bigger than the movies and threw many of us into confusion.
So all those lists and ranks, predictions, and refining predictions, decade by decade, year after year, as celebrity values declined and rose, as new trends emerge and new fads fade, and Covid-19 threw even the movie studio bosses on who was hot and who was not and the basics remain entrenched in new dynamic forms. I saw trends before data points gather, I enlightened friends and families to such an extent that I had to hide it sometimes as if I was some freak fortune teller. Then I started writing it, and it has overcome me and here we are. I hope that you can come away from these pieces of learning some trivial that can help you re-arrange the position of your own favourites based on a method that you can back with some data. So over the next year, or across 2025, 25 pieces will be posted on SeniGambia (under Culture) after this introduction that will help outline the TOP 25 theory of culture. The posts will come fortnightly, at weekends beginning in January 2025. SeniGambia hopes that you will laugh with us, learn something and debate with us, without taking it too seriously.
