Thanks for the awesome thoughts…come by MZ anytime.

Say there are too many films on earth and we need to jettison some into outer space. Don’t ask why or how, just run with it. The decision comes down to a choice between putting “Star Wars” or “The Seventh Seal” on the rocket and firing it into space. On what criteria do we make that decision?

If we were to be democratic and allow the public to vote on this, I do not think it a stretch by any means to say that “Star Wars” would be the clear winner. But does this mean “Star Wars” is the better film? I believe that, to any serious cinephile, it would be hard to argue that “Star Wars” is superior to “The Seventh Seal” as a film.

One thing I find rather heartbreaking is when people cast doubt on the ability for others to truly “enjoy” the more inaccessable, esoteric and challenging works of art that any medium provides. When people make comments like “Nobody really likes Bergman. They just pretend to so they can feel smarter”, I get really upset. This is really the populist equivalent of intellectual elitism.

This is why I’m glad we live in a culture that says both are allowed to co-exist, if somewhat uneasily. Thankfully, we’re not forced to make this either/or choice between films the general public likes and films a certain niche appreciates, and I get very annoyed when certain schools of thought in film criticism say we should.

You and I both know that Tron was just a rip off of The Gospel According to Matthew. Why pretend otherwise?

@Kevin
It is funny you should mention that, Kevin. We have a local critic here who is absolutely terrible, in much the same ways as the critic you mentioned. Not only is he a poor writer, but he seems to hate films on principle and each week is a diatribe against Hollywood. He’s one of the reasons I started this blog, because I figured if he could actually get paid to spew his middle school venom, I could at least do a marginally better job than him.

@begiles10
My apologies, miss. Those numerals in your name threw me off (as excuses go, that is a pretty weak one, I know ). Again, I agree with your sentiment. I don’t like pretentious critics who have a stick up their nether regions and enjoy ripping a film to shreds based on extenuating circumstances. However, every critic has their prejudices and blindspots, and the more I’ve thought about the more I’ve come to the conclusion that a critic should take advantage of their prejudices rather than crush them. In the end, what is there to separate one critic from another apart from their likes and dislikes? Again, this should be handled with care and respect, but I think a critic should capitalize on their prejudices as much as possible (goes back to that ‘developing a unique voice’ point).

Amy, Geoff, Caleb, Yikbo, & Nick, thanks so much for dropping by. Hope you come back more often.

@Dean
I think you may have missed the point, my friend.

More to the point: thanks to sites like rottentomatoes and metacritic, if you say “the critics didn’t like [movie x]” someone can double-check that.

Enchanted: Metacritic 75/100
Rottentomatoes 94/100

Your point is still valid, but Enchanted is not a very good example. The critics loved it.

The critics hated most of the most popular movies of all time. There are movies the critics loved that did not cover their own budgets (or even close). Some of that may be due to dumb people going to see some movie just because they saw a cute commercial, but a lot of it is word of mouth. If a movie sicks, a lot of people will hear about it and not go see it. And most of those people trust their friends and such, not film critics.

Take “Enchanted” for example. A lot of critics probably thought it was some pathetic rehash of all the classic Disney princess movies. And maybe it was. But it was well put together and a lot of people enjoyed it.

Am particularly fond of Kael’s definition of a good critic in “Circles and Squares.”

Thanks for this incredible piece. Am looking forward to the rest.

Nick

Eagerly awaiting Part 2!

however, I think the critics you mentioned in your article exemplify this, walking that fine line between the two, being accurate in your reviews as well as respectful, really hinges on being not only classy but non-biased. With several of the scathing reviews I’ve read or at least unfriendly reviews, the critic will base his/her dislike on a consequential element of the film such as the director, the actors involved, the subject matter included in the film, not really looking at the quality of any of them but simply the fact that this element is involved.

A good example would be the reviews for Shyamalon’s The Happening. Most of them were horrible. Did the film completely deserve the repetition of bitch slaps? Maybe but more than likely most critics saw that Shyamalon was helming the pic and were sharpening their pens even before they had seen the film.

If you’re going to be biased about a film because you don’t like M. Night or you think Ben Affleck sucks or hate Jane Austen related movies then, although you’re perfectly in your rights as a film goer, critics have to look at a film almost in a vaccum of and ask if it works as a film and judge it on that basis only. You can hate Ben Affleck, but if he does okay in the upcoming “He’s Just Not That Into You” be classy enough to admit it basically. If one can do that than I think you’re on your way to being a critic and not an ass.

Is it to advise others on what to see or not see?

Is it to try and understand why or why not a particular film works as part of the medium?

Is it a way of understanding the political and social forces of our time?

I would think that, without careful consideration of which of the above (if not all) should be a factor in criticism, being a critic becomes a frustrating exercise.

@Thomas
It’s time consuming and exhausting to maintain a certain level of quality with one’s reviews. How valuable they are in the long run, of course, is up for debate.

@Stephen
A critic of the critics is kind of like a paradox within an enigma, and probably just as useful. Also, that sentence doesn’t make much sense upon a second reading. Regardless, thanks for dropping by, Steve.

@Jesse
I wasn’t so much advocating that a critic spout off that kind of knowledge in a review, but that having that knowledge would make them a better critic. I agree, there is a point where referencing obscure Ozu films becomes the height of pretension. However, having watched said obscure Ozu films will allow you to make better observations in the future.

And on Lee and White’s “unique voices,” providing a single snippet doesn’t really do justice to the point I was trying to make. They have distinct voices that carry over their body of work and set them apart which, whether you like them or not or think their opinions are validated with any kind of substantial evidence, makes the memorable and readable. I wasn’t necessarily defending their writing in and of itself, but defending the consistent and unique way in which they write.

@Rachel
Great points, Rachel. I wish I had come up with them for the second part of my article, as your points are a little better than the ones I have yet to make. Love having your voice at MZ, as always.

@Mira
Training? HA! None of us have received any training. We’re just a bunch of opinionated people with Wordpress installs who think we know what we’re talking about. When I have some more time, I’ll be sure to check out some of your writing. And also hope you stick around here – we could use some more international perspective at MZ.

@mitchsn
Agreed, sometimes a film needs to be taken at face value. Roger Ebert, more than any other critic, does this particularly well.

@begiles10
I’m with you 100% there, man. Sometimes you just want to read a piece trashing a terrible film. Those can be the most enjoyable. But (and I know you agree with this) that isn’t really film criticism so much as it’s entertaining sarcasm. There’s a place for that, to be sure, but again, it’s not real criticism. However, it’s really hard to walk that fine line between entertainment and respectability. One of my points from the next half of this article is “Don’t Be Dull,” which can directly contradict point #2 (as you pointed out in your great comment). I think the secret, perhaps, is to try and combine a little of both and not go too far in either direction.

@Luke & G
I don’t think I have the mental energy to engage you two in your discussion, but please, don’t stop. Your arguments are a great read.

I’m gonna do my best to answer your concerns without lapsing into the academo-speak that calls to me on this subject, since we’re touching on some areas that will be in the disseration i’m supposed to start in november – i come to the blogosphere to get away from it.

the last thing i would want to imply was that opinions are valueless. opinions are vital. i value a.o. scott’s opinion immensely. it’s his reasons that i don’t care much about – not that i usually disagree with them.

you’re right that this is a form of intellectual surrender – and not one i’d like to end up espousing in the long-term.

but basically this instrumentalizes everyone’s opinions. i don’t care how or why a.o. scott gets his opinions, and i don’t want to know if they’re “right” or not. but i know that they’re right for me – in a way i’ve described as constitutional.

again, this entire approach instrumentalizes film criticism to its purest, most pragmatic function: “I want to know what movies I should watch.” Since I seem to agree with Scott and view Travers as always wrong, then I can instrumentalize both of them – I watch what Scott recommends and avoid anything Travers likes.

In the long run, you’re right: this is a limited view which forecloses the alteration of opinions through arguments and renders film criticism (and, as you point out all of human communication) purely instrumental. But it also works.

To put it another way, I don’t care why A.O. Scott likes the movies he does or why the cashier at the burrito place asks me for $6. Their motive and reasons are, if not inscrutable, unnecessary. I just know I should see the movie and pay for the burrito, and I’ll be happy.

The website is the the domain of a former film reviewer whose reviews are not so much criticism as they are completely crude and unabashed harassment, but after reading his review of the film I was disappointed with, I’ll feel a lot more satisfied by his comments. I know it’s immature, but after reading his description of this actor as a guileless dung load and the summing up of this plot as the half-baked scrawlings of a syphilis ridden chimp birthed by Farrah Fawcett, I’m more in agreement with his tone and basically more entertained than reading from Ebert something that’s more thoughtful but also a little boring.

And I almost think, you know, films today aren’t classy. Sometimes filmmakers don’t seem to care what ill-formed, bull, nonsense that they feed the public so why should critics tame their words for them? They should be criticized, in every inch, just as badly as they have delivered. But there’s a difference between bluntly giving a movie what it deserved and being a cynical snarky arrogant bitch about every movie or even just about every movie.

A good critic can tell when the film makers have put effort into making a movie and that alone affords it some respect from the reviewer. What I’m saying is that I think it’s okay to rip into a film with the movies or really the filmmakers that really deserve it, but in most cases a little respect should be used with your reviews because if you’re an asshole who hates everything, what insight are you really offering for film goers? (To be fair, Mr. Cranky is an asshole who hates everything, but he’s really funny while being so.)

or something to that matter. Its kind of like #2 but #2 doesn’t expand enough.

Horror movies, action movies, summer blockbuster movies etc. They aren’t Shakespeare, aren’t meant to be Shakespeare and people who go to see them don’t WANT Shakespeare.

What you’re saying is that opinions are meaningless in every objective sense, which makes all human communication irrelevant. Even if that is, in fact, the case, it seems to me that (a) it’s not particularly useful in terms of day-to-day interaction; and (b) it has no implications for human philosophical advancement.

In other words, if your opinion is meaningless to me and my opinion is meaningless to you, where does that leave us? Worse off than when we started – not only do we disagree, we have no chance of ever understanding one another.

(Please feel free to correct any assumptions I’ve made here. Looking forward to that potential blog post.)

Your comments partially inspired me to start researching a potential online music business built around the subjective tastes of a few people. Thanks for fueling the idea machine!

You hated Napoleon Dynamite. I loved it. You gave me the reasons you hated it; I disagreed. I could give you the reasons I liked it; you would likely disagree. This would get us nowhere.

I’ve come to think of film criticism more or less as constitutional or temperamental, and I just disregard reasons. It seems to me that reasons are always retroactive; you hated Napoleon Dynamite, so you have reasons.

So I just look for a critic who has the same temperament or constitution as I do – the best I’ve found are David Ansen and A.O. Scott. I’ve read a great deal of their reviews, and I seem to line up with them. I enjoy their writing, but I rarely care about their reasons. We just seem to share the same movie constitution.

So if someone says “I’d rather stick tacks in my eyes than watch Blow-Up” I don’t care why they feel that way, I just file it away that we might be on the same page. And if they say the same thing about La Dolce Vita, I decide I probably can’t trust their opinions. That’s how movie criticism works for me, and that’s why I have a hard time offering reasons.

The most useful film critism of all is the rating of a netflix friend/user with a high percentage of agreement with you. No reasons – no words. just 1-5 stars from someone who’s on the same page.

Sorry for the length. I guess this is a future blog post.

On the other hand, many a critic takes the high road and bashes anything and everything that is new and interesting and (heaven help us) entertaining, all in the name of “the olden days.” Rex Reed would be a grand example of this. Perhaps part of that is a hazard of the job. After watching untold thousands of films, it wouldn’t be difficult to get a little cynical and jaded. Would you want to be forced into seeing yet another Martin Lawrence train wreck of a film and having to write about it? That cynicism can bleed into everything a critic reports on, until all they can remember is the days when they weren’t jaded and films were “better.”

I think, ultimately, a film critic needs to combine both of those mindsets and find a middle ground. An appreciation of the old mixed with a wide-eyed enjoyment of the new.

1. Who are your audience? If you are only writing for cinephiles, then you don’t need to reference allusions and homages, because your audience, all five of them, will already get it. If you are writing to inform and educate a reasonably literate, non-specialist audience, it is appropriate to inform and educate them.

2. What is the purpose of your critique? Criticism used to be (ask Gore Vidal) about examining a work of art to see what worked, what didn’t, and why. That not only informed the non-specialist audience, it also gave the artist a response from which he/she/they could learn, so that the next work of art is better. (Not necessarily more commercial, but better.) If your purpose is to steer the hoi polloi to/away from this week’s best/worst bet at the cineplex, then advertising, trailers and the web are probably sufficient.

Thanks for taking criticism a little more seriously, and raising the tattered banner of civility and reason.

Referencing the Simpsons in a review of Passion of the Christ, (despite having Mel Gibson in common) is silly. How did the first 2/3 of that paragraph have anything to do with the movie?

And as far as your last point about gaining a unique voice…I see that you said you don’t necessarily agree or like what they had to say.

But their “unique” voice was “we don’t like this movie. Movies like this are pointless, and we’d rather have tacks shoved in our eyes.” But they gave no reason within the movie itself. All their complaints lay with external sources.

Granted I don’t like every movie I see. If I write about it, I try to explain why I don’t like THAT MOVIE.

Like Napolean Dynamite. One of the worst movies I’ve ever seen, and it was praised as being some godsend. There was no plot. Nothing happened in that story. My reason for not liking it had nothing to do with tie ins, possible sequels, marketing campaings etc. The movie was just plain dull.

Most critics I’ve read, need to pull their head out of thier butt, and remember how to enjoy a movie. And if they can’t, explain why.

Unless, of course, they simply don’t want to watch alot of artificial dialogue being hammed-up by pre-method actors for hours upon end. In which case, they might actually be scoffing – and they would frequently have a point. Not, of course, with the films that Eisenstein made and that Bazin wrote about, but if someone (like, for example, my wife) scoffs at Bringing Up Baby, then, well, I understand where they’re coming from. I love it, but if you want to dismiss it, there are lots of good reasons.

See also juxtaposition.

And my Hidden Fortress example was just that, an example (and in retrospect, not a very deep one). The point still remains that film critics who have never seen a Kurosawa film will be operating with a handicap, whereas those who have immersed themselves in his work will bring that vocabulary and knowledge to the pieces that they write.

Sure, the cineplexes are crowded with mush in a way they have never been before, and art houses are on the rocks. But think about this: we are living in the golden age of classic movie viewing. Pre-VCRs, classic theaters were about the only way to see classic movies, and then DVDs and netflix came along and blew VCRs away. Never has the filmgoing populace has such unprecedented access to classic movies. That’s got to count for something.

I’m sure there are plenty of people out there, possibly even film bloggers, who have never heard of Eisenstein and Bazin, but are there people out there who scoff at them? These sound like straw men to me – people literate enough to know Bazin but ignorant enough to scoff at them.

The bottom line: Rather than make a sweeping generalization about how people today don’t appreciate the classics like they should (thanks, Grandpa), just do your best to get those names back into circulation. That’s what Evan’s doing here, that’s what I do on my blog, and I’m sure that’s what you do as well. That can help. Making generalizations about how things used to be better and how people used to care more just makes you sound curmudgeonly.