In 2015, between dusty rows of shelves in a small op-shop somewhere in suburban Sydney, I made a vow to myself: whenever I spotted a copy of Dude, Where’s My Car? on DVD, I would have to buy it.
There was no deeper thought behind the mission. To this day I have not even watched the movie. But something about its cover – Ashton Kutcher, wide-eyed, hamming into the camera; the extremely Y2K gradient; the charmingly chunky letters spelling out its title – felt right. It felt soothing.