I really dislike Northern Irish film critic Mark Cousins.
I’ve never read any of his books.
I’ve never met him.
I don’t know anything about him except that he’s a film critic and that he’s from Northern Ireland.
I know next to nothing about Mark Cousins, but I hate him with a passion that borders on obscene.
He might be the coolest cat to hang out with. He might own every album by Roxy Music ever made. He probably has a really cool apartment with a really nice movie collection. I bet if I got to know him, he’d be the most loyal, helpful, and fun friend ever. We’d maybe hang out in his cool apartment listening to Roxy Music, and he’d tell me stories and fun film facts that would blow my mind, and then we’d be the best of friends, and we’d hang out constantly, and we’d laugh at the same things, and we’d be the best man at each other’s weddings, and he’d never let me down, and he’d help me out of trouble if I fucked up, and I’d help him out, too, and at the end of out lives we would live in the same nursing home and look back at a long and beautiful friendship.
God, how good friends me and Mark Cousins could’ve been!
But all of that will never happen, because I refuse to get to know Mark Cousins. In fact, it’s impossible for me to find out if Mark Cousins really is a cool guy because I couldn’t be in the same room with him for more than 10 seconds.
So why do I hate this man so much? What has Mark Cousins ever done to me? Has he slept with my girlfriend? Poisoned my dog? Taken a shit on my toilet without flushing?
None of those things.
Mark Cousins’s only sin is his way of talking.
My first meeting with his godawful voice was when a friend on Facebook wrote that he just heard the world’s most annoying narrator ever on a documentary series called A Story About Film that was on TV right then.
I turned on the TV, went to the correct channel, and I listened. I heard the narrator’s voice immediately.
“That’s strange,” I thought. “That’s not really an annoying voice. Sounds pretty normal to me.”
10 seconds in, I realized how terribly wrong I was. Cousins ends every sentence by lowering his voice while simultaneously employing the high rising terminal, creating the infuriating effect of being in constant wonderment of his own sentences. It also makes Mark Cousins a bona fide fist magnet if there ever was one.
30 seconds in, I realized it was impossible to watch any further and that I had to turn off the TV before I started ripping off my own pubic hair out of sheer fury.
It might be the fact that I’m Norwegian, but Mark Cousins way of talking is so annoying, it physically hurts.
I’ve always thought that England should give up Northern Ireland. I think it’s the only right thing to do. But if everyone there speaks like Mark Cousins, then the English should definitely remain there and take a tighter grip around that fucking area. The Limeys should try to force them into speaking properly.
If you think I’m exaggerating, well, listen for yourself, muchacho. Here’s Mark Cousins talking about the wonderful Japanese director Yasujiro Uzo:
That clip is eleven-and-a-half minutes long. How long did you manage to watch?
It’s not just when he’s narrating documentaries. Here’s Mark Cousins being interviewed:
Here’s Mark Cousins introducing Nicholas Roeg’s terrifying masterpiece Don’t Look Now:
For fuck’s sake! How can a person talk like that without receiving a fist in his face every minute of his life?
How many TV screens have been smashed to pieces because of Mark Cousins and his infuriating voice?
Oh, and he has an incredibly annoying face.
—LASSE HOLMBERG JOSEPHSEN
UPDATE: Apparently we aren’t the only ones to find this guy’s voice infuriating.