Do you have any go-to cures when you’re feeling sick? Some people swear by a home remedy that their moms taught them growing up or follow a specific regimen that always seems to speed up the healing timeline — the old “onion in your sock” trick or the new fad of slathering yourself in essential oils. Maybe you prefer to just mainline NyQuil and hope for the best.
One reliable constant in the American experience of illness is tons of time spent watching TV and movies. It’s relaxing, requires minimal brainpower and can be done while drifting in and out of consciousness. Below, we’ve compiled a list of a few of our go-to watches when we’re under the weather.
Cade Kaina: “Napoleon Dynamite”
One of my favorite movies to rewatch is the 2004 indie hit “Napoleon Dynamite.” I first saw the film at a sleepover in middle school — and in hindsight, this was the perfect time in my life to see it. Others in the group had already seen it, providing a new movie experience for me by quoting the scenes as we watched. A few weeks later, I was sick. As I sat there, I realized that instead of another round of “Mario Kart Wii,” I could rewatch “Napoleon Dynamite” and improve my ability in this new social game of quoting with my friends.
Past this point, I didn’t actually sit and watch the movie again for several years. The movie stayed present in my life by appearing in continual references with friends and family — whether they were willing or not. It provided bonding with peers in a time when I had just moved, navigating new friendships. I even bought the Rex Kwon Do American flag pants — and you best believe that those were worn as long and often as possible. Despite this obsession, this period of my life naturally faded as I went through high school.
Shortly before starting college — and during another day stuck on the couch — the Netflix recommendation gods reminded me of “Napoleon Dynamite.” I gave it a watch. Not only did I feel that the film’s awkward, flat comedy was still funny, but it also now brought a sense of comfort because I knew the film so closely. This was new, because I rarely rewatch movies enough to quote and anticipate every scene.
When I am healthy and make time for a movie, I often prefer to watch something new. Yet sick days offer me the time to embrace this part of my adolescence that I don’t return to often. Other people I know can quickly pull from vast references of media, and I envy that. For now, I’ll continue to enjoy my decade of silly quotes about llamas and glamour shots.
Sam Poore: Disney Channel Original Movies
Whenever I am sick — confined to bed like a Victorian child with a weak disposition — I find that the type of movie I watch changes. No longer do I gravitate toward my go-to gunshots and explosions. The prospect of watching a Jason Bourne movie or “World War Z” seems out of the question, as I imagine feeling each bang of a gunshot and screech of a zombie reverberate through my aching head.
Spy and end-of-the-world movies are shelved in exchange for a quieter type of story. The only hard part is that I rarely watch quiet movies, so I don’t have a list of nostalgic rom-coms to pull from. My friends don’t have the same problem and would have endless rom-coms recommendations for me. The trouble with that is it is exhausting to try to follow the storyline of a new movie in my flu-induced haze, slipping in and out of consciousness.
I need something uncomplicated and familiar.
I watch old Disney Channel original movies. And I am not talking about those mainstream ones like “High School Musical” and “Camp Rock,” but the obscure ones that people forget about, until you hear something that unlocks a memory so deep that you can smell and taste childhood. Some of my favorites are “Smart House,” “The Luck of the Irish,” “Minutemen,” “Jump In,” and “Wendy Wu: Homecoming Warrior.”
These movies aren’t good enough to dedicate real time to, but I am happy to give them the time I am bedridden and miserable. If I fall asleep during the movie, I don’t have to worry about missing a part of the story. I have seen it before and the plot is not that complicated. I mean, they were made for children; I would hope I could jump back in fairly easily. But I also think I watch Disney Channel original movies because they take me back to my childhood, when I would be curled up in my parent’s bed with my mom snuggled up next to me, tending to my miserable, sick self. Part of me seeks to recapture that comfort as I sit in my dorm room alone, hacking up a lung.
Macie Smith: “Little Dorrit”
I don’t like to say this out loud too often (because it feels like I’m tempting fate) but… I almost never get sick. I have no guesses as to why, other than my annual trip to Walgreens for a flu shot and the fact that a friend once told me with horror while standing at a sink with me that I “wash my hands like a surgeon.” However, even the mighty eventually fall, and now and then I get hit with a rough bout of spring allergies or the odd stomach bug. When that happens, my go-to is the six-episode BBC miniseries “Little Dorrit,” based on the novel by Charles Dickens. I do not like to watch it when I’m well; it’s exclusively reserved for days when I feel like death and even the thought of getting off the couch makes me tired.
“Little Dorrit” tells the story of Amy Dorrit, a young woman who has lived in a debtor’s prison with her father her entire life, and her connection to Arthur Clennam, a wealthy man searching for answers about his family’s murky past. “Little Dorrit” invites you on a delightfully twisty journey through these people’s lives, backgrounds and pasts, inserting the perfect amount of jumpscares and twists and endearing you to Amy in unexpectedly tender ways. There is, of course, a proper villain, who I find genuinely scary. The beloved Matthew McFadyen plays Clennam. (I love Clennam so, so much.)
But as much as I enjoy “Little Dorrit,” it’s simply too desolate, even by Dickensian standards, to watch when all is right with the world. Set in London, the entire series seems to take place on an overcast, rainy day. The main color is grey; the story — while it ends in a very satisfying way — is bleak. Typical Dickens. I’d like to keep it reserved for days when I’m already feeling sorry for myself and want to wallow in my sadness for a few hours.
Olivia Wyatt: “The Golden Girls”
A sick day: when responsibility seems to slip away, followed by a pile of tissues and a deep sense of immortality, all wrapped up with the unbelievable feeling of getting to rot with no guilt. It is one of my all-time favorite activities. Being sick means it is time to bare down — doomsday style — grab a blanket, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and the best television show of all time, “Golden Girls.” Those four little old ladies have been the crew I’ve looked up to since those elementary sick days.
Interestingly enough, without a sick day accompanying it, I used to wake up, at 7:30 a.m., on a Sunday in my striped, still footie, pajamas and watch “Golden Girls” until it was time for church. My mom couldn’t pull me away. It was as if I was the fifth Golden Girl. It came to a head when I begged to be Rose Nylund for Halloween. I was 8 years old. I kicked, I screamed, I fought, all for a white fluffy wig that my mom just wouldn’t get.
So for that very reason, any time I feel that tickle in my throat, I cling to those old biddies.
“Golden Girls” is, for me, the epitome of the peace that can be found in nostalgia. I have never been a big fan of rewatching movies, yet rewatching shows transports me into a different world. It’s as if my fever dream has placed me in the Miami beach house. I’m laughing, eating midnight ice cream bowls with four fabulous women. I sometimes laugh so hard that I end up practically coughing up a lung.
The lung aside, I wouldn’t trade a sick day watching “Golden Girls” for anything else. It lets out my inner 8-year-old, finally getting to watch them, uninterrupted, for hours.
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