With this one, we've moved up a level from “movies I don't really recommend” to “films I enjoyed but ultimately felt were a little undercooked or slightly underwhelming.” The sort of film that sort of hides in the back of your mind and you aren't sure how you felt about it until you catch part of it again a year or two later and you say either, “you know, I really like this! This really grew on me,” or “I can't believe how little I am enjoying this,” with really no in-between.*

*My best example of this is last year's Jurassic World, which I started rewatching and my opinion jumped from "what a fun bit of nonsense!" to "God, this movie is just interminable."

There's a level of adoration cinephiles have for the Coen Brothers that I cannot quite get behind. I enjoy their work immensely. Like any other former film school student, I have a list of my ten favorite Coen movies.* I'll turn out for pretty much anything they do.

*Okay, looking at it, I've seen less than I thought. I can actually just BARELY get there. 
1. Inside Llewyn Davis
2.  The Big Lebowski
3. Fargo
4. O Brother, Where Art Thou?
5. No Country For Old Men
6. True Grit
7. Raising Arizona
8. That Section They Did in Paris, je t'aime
9. Burn After Reading
10. Intolerable Cruelty

I hate to put this movie this low, because I really did admire what it was trying to do. Christian movies are bad – they're badly conceived, badly developed, badly written, badly shot – and the people who stan for them are people willing to overlook a great deal because they want to like them so badly. I understand the feeling entirely – anyone who loves movies has convinced themselves they're having a much better time at a critically acclaimed movie than they are at one point or another.

Risen is not bad. It's not good, really, but it's not bad. It's fine. It exists. It continues along for a period of time, then comes to an end.

30. “I'm Fine” - Hazel English

Fuzz guitars and angelic vocals are crowding the bottom part of this list, and I'm not bothered. I have a type of song that hits that little pleasure nerve in the brain, and this song, with its soaring 80's synth breaks layered on top of a grizzled guitar lick, taps that button over and over again. By the time a clean electric solo line flows over the top as English sighs “I can't measure up to this girl you thought you knew,” I'm all the way in.

We're in the middle of a brief Facebook trend of putting your top albums from your teenage years up, and it is nonsense. I know that we tend to see our past selves through rose-colored glasses, but apparently everyone on Facebook has reimagined themselves as characters from a Nick Hornby book, squirreled away in their room listening to The Replacements on vinyl. This is ridiculous.