Earlier this evening, I was in my car, my music library on shuffle as it usually is, when a favorite I’ve not heard in some time came on — “Welcome Home” by Coheed and Cambria.

The song’s a jam and a half, so I was enjoying it, but it reminded me of an inflection point in my fandom of them — which lead to a bunch of other thoughts, so you’re getting a blog post out of it.

Coheed and Cambria, for those unawares, is a New Jersey based rock band who came of age in the early 00’s. With a unique sound that mixed prog rock and post-hardcore, they were catnip for a twenty something me. Now, add the fact that the lyrics were inspired by a sci-fi story being written by lead singer Claudio Sanchez, you have the makings of something for devoted fandom.

What was the story? Who were the characters? How did each song fit in? It was something to discuss with friends, debate over the internet, and made each album an event.

And then…alongside the release of some one-off comics in 2004 and 2005, and then a very lengthy series called The Amory Wars from 2007 to 2024…we found out what the story really was. And — for me, at least — it never worked or satisfied on the level of the versions of the story which spiraled in my head as I listened to their music.

Knowing — in turn — ruined the possibility.

And I see this pattern a lot in our current franchise based era of entertainment.

One of the coolest elements of the first John Wick movie were the glimpses of a mysterious world of hitmen. Antiquated coins, tattooed phone receptionists, protected hotels…you saw the tip of an iceberg, and it added to the tapestry of the film overall. These were lights shining just beyond the frame, something intriguing but out of focus.

In the three movies since — good films, yes — each installment has brought more clarity to the world of hitmen…and, I’d argue, has become more blasé. We now know how things work. We have logic to apply to random sequences, versus just going with the confidence of the filmmakers to let you connect the dots.

Solo: A Star Wars Story was, from the jump, a somewhat cursed film — telling the story of Han Solo prior to A New Hope. Like X-Men Origins: Wolverine before it, it said to the world, “You want to know about his jacket, right? The LORE of jacket, right?” And it all became less special. And lest you think this was a Disney-era issue — didn’t the Clone Wars sound a lot more interesting when Obi-Wan made a tossed off mention of it in conversation with Luke, versus knowing it was a conflict between Robots and Clones, and those Clones who somehow became Boba Fett, and I guess Yoda was there too, and the clones were ordered by the Jedi for some reason and…

Yeah. Not knowing was better than knowing.

This last weekend, I watched Anora, a great movie with an incredible performance at its core, which — without spoiling — has an ending which could be read many different ways…and it doesn’t tell you how. And the director, he isn’t talking.

Could you imagine what Lost In Translation would have been if Sofia Coppola told us all what Bill Murray’s character whispered into Scarlett Johansson’s ear? Instead, the ambiguity has meant decades of discussion and theory.

I’m not going to come out and say “not knowing things is better”, because I wholeheartedly believe that knowledge is power, and ignorance is foolish.

But I will say, when it comes to creative works — no, I don’t need to know how these things happened. I don’t need to know all the rules of the world. Let me make the connections. Let our imaginations roam.