It often happens to me – and I take for granted it's a generational thing – that in my circle, the fact that my husband and I don't watch series or movies together is met with surprise. I say it must be generational because only people our age remember when families used to gather to watch TV, all at the same time and on the same channel.
Now, for better or worse, we can watch or listen to audiovisual products wherever and whenever we want. This, which surely has some negative aspects, has a great advantage, which is independence: the free choice of what, where, and when you want to watch anything.
Thus, my husband and I have been applying this autonomy for a long time and, in the evening, each of us goes to bed with our tablet and headphones on. It seemed like the most natural and practical thing in the world to me until I started seeing surprised faces or, in some cases, even a little reproach from some representatives of this phenomenon in danger of extinction, which is long-lasting marriage.
“We agree on which series we want to watch and we watch it together, so we can discuss it.” I don't think that's an argument, because, to do it that way, in addition to the series or movie, you have to agree on the schedule and pace. Some have to get up early and only want to watch one episode, while others find it harder to sleep and watch two or three.
When I start to feel guilty about not taking care of the state of my marriage, I pull out the last argument from my sleeve: after all, watching a series on a tablet is the same as reading a book. And if we choose to read, each person reads their own book, right?
This year I've watched a lot of series and movies that I've really enjoyed and which I would have had to give up if I had been forced into an agreement. I recommend some to you: Alice and Steve (with the spectacular performance by Nicola Walker), on Disney+; The Four Seasons (especially recommended for those of you who have passed the half-century mark), on Netflix; The Other Sister Bennet (if you never want to say goodbye to the Jane Austen universe), on Movistar; Sentimental Value (Nordic family conflicts), on Filmin; No Hard Feelings, on AppleTV. This last one is a gift of a series, providing you with good times full of humor and a great, great Harrison Ford.
As you can see, the desire to choose dubbed content in Catalan causes great frustration. It seems we have to consider it a great success that our language has gained a presence on platforms. I look it up: right now, Catalan content represents 9.7% of the total catalog (either with audio or with subtitles). It seems little to me, very little. And we must always be alert because if you start watching Ravalejar on HBO, it defaults to Spanish and you have to expressly choose the Catalan option.
In any case, it is evident that platforms and major distributors are offering great resistance to incorporating Catalan in a significant enough way. For this reason, it must be borne in mind that creators and producers who insist on offering their works in Catalan are making an act of active resistance and commitment to the language and the country. And it should not be contrasted with freedom of creation. Freedom, precisely, is being able to decide to collaborate in the survival of Catalan.
