View image: Bob Balaban as The Critic: M. Night Shyamalan's "The Lady in the Water" comes with its own built-in film critic, allowing the filmmaker a shot at beating critics of his movie to the punch.
I hope A.O. Scott's editors aren't giving him a bad time for writing about why he thinks "The Da Vinci Code" and "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" aren't very good movies. He's a terrific film critic (even if he did used to do books) and he's just doing his job, and doing it well. Who cares if those summer movies are popular? It brings up the old analogy: Just because McDonald's has served umpteen billion burgers, does that make fast food fine cuisine (or even good for you)? Would anybody be offended, or surprised, if a Big Mac got a bad review from a food critic? I'd hope not. And who'd make the decision on whether or not to eat a Big Mac based on a review? (Well, OK, maybe a nutritional description might affect one's appetite, but that's a quantifiable assessment, not a critical or aesthetic one. If only we could objectively measure the precise amount of cheese, or artificial pasteurized-processed cheese-food product, present in every movie...)
In today's New York Times, Scott writes about this year's most popular subject among film critics: Film critics. But Scott offers a sensible perspective:
Are we out of touch with the audience? Why do we go sniffing after art where everyone else is looking for fun, and spoiling everybody’s fun when it doesn’t live up to our notion or art? What gives us the right to yell “bomb� outside a crowded theater? Variations on these questions arrive regularly in our e-mail in-boxes, and also constitute a major theme in the comments sections of film blogs and Web sites. Online, everyone is a critic, which is as it should be: professional prerogatives aside, a critic is really just anyone who thinks out loud about something he or she cares about, and gets into arguments with fellow enthusiasts. But it would be silly to pretend that those professional prerogatives don’t exist, and that they don’t foster a degree of resentment. Entitled elites, self-regarding experts, bearers of intellectual or institutional authority, misfits who get to see a movie before anybody else and then take it upon themselves to give away the ending: such people are easy targets of populist anger. Just who do we think we are?
There is no easy answer to this question. Film criticism — at least as practiced in the general-interest daily and weekly press — has never been a specialist pursuit. Movies, more than any other art form, are understood to be common cultural property, something everyone can enjoy, which makes any claim of expertise suspect. Therefore, a certain estrangement between us and them — or me and you, to put it plainly — has been built into the enterprise from the start....
Scott sounds a little defensive sometimes, but he needn't be. He, and film critics in general, have nothing to apologize for. I've always wondered how moviegoers can claim a critic ruined their fun by giving a popcorn movie a bad review. If they saw the movie, they've already had their fun, so how can it be ruined afterwards by something a critic wrote about it? If they want to see the movie, no matter what a critic says, then what's stopping them from going and making up their own bloody minds, fer cryin' out loud? Or if, as these whiners often protest, they don't care what movie critics say, then why don't they stop caring about what movie critics say! Go. Enjoy. Live your life. Let those of us who care about things like film history and compositions and camera movements have our fun -- and stop trying to ruin it for us! You're not the only kind of moviegoer in the world; so, let people who care about film criticism (as opposed to those who enjoy star ratings or letter grades) enjoy reading and practicing it.
I mean, does anybody really have to read a review to get advance permission to have fun at a "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie? It would just be too pathetic to think so. (Did anybody read reviews before deciding to go on the Disneyland ride? If somebody opined that the audioanimatronics were less than realistic, would that ruin the experience for you? Or did you pretty much intuit that going in?)
Scott concludes:
So why review [popcorn movies]? Why not let the market do its work, let the audience have its fun and occupy ourselves with the arcana — the art — we critics ostensibly prefer? The obvious answer is that art, or at least the kind of pleasure, wonder and surprise we associate with art, often pops out of commerce, and we want to be around to celebrate when it does and to complain when it doesn’t. But the deeper answer is that our love of movies is sometimes expressed as a mistrust of the people who make and sell them, and even of the people who see them. We take entertainment very seriously, which is to say that we don’t go to the movies for fun. Or for money. We do it for you.Well, I don't know about that last one. I don't pretend to know who "you" are. But I'm also not interested in pandering. As a critic, and a lifelong moviegoer, I've got my tastes and standards and you've got yours. But I go to the movies for me. If you want to read what I have to say about movies (and I think only a small percentage of moviegoers actually want to read about them, before or afterwards), then that's great. If not, I leave you to the studio marketing and advertising departments, and wish you happy popcorn-munching!
I agree with you, the last sentence of AO Scott's article is disconcerting. Somehow a desperate populist attempt to reconcile with his readership, which contradicts his prior exposition :
"But the discrepancy between what critics think and how the public behaves is of perennial interest because it throws into relief some basic questions about taste, economics and the nature of popular entertainment, as well as the more vexing issue of what, exactly, critics are for."
Studios are the only ones who do it for the audience (after their own profits of course).
Reviewers do it for popularity.
I would say critics do their job, to be the independent observer witnessing the highs and lows of cinema achievements. So they do it for cinema, for the art of cinema. But it probably sounds to "snobbish" to mention on a critic's business card. ;)
JE: Right on, Harry. I think Scott was being somewhat tongue-in-cheek, because he knows that any good writer with anything to say writes for himself/herself first and foremost. If what you're writing doesn't resonate strongly within you, you don't have a chance of connecting with anybody else. That's why it's often said that criticism is really a form of autobiography. I recently got an e-mail that said:
"I'm not interested in your knowledge of movie history or dissecting how the film was put together (that's for another forum). Tell us how the film reaches or doesn't reach the audience. Keep trying and don't give us film criticism, rather review movies. Don't write for yourself, write for the person who buys the paper."
I've been writing about film professionally for almost 30 years now, mostly for mainstream outlets, and if there's one thing I've learned over that time it's that I'm not interested in writing for anybody presumptuous enough to think HE represents "the person who buys the paper" ( as if there's only one kind of movie -- or movie review -- audience) and that a critic's job is to pander to him!
I agree wholeheartedly. But I also don't understand why the same sentiment -- "Or if, as these whiners often protest, they don't care what movie critics say, then why don't they stop caring about what movie critics say! Go. Enjoy. Live your life." -- can't apply to, say, one's reaction to a negative review of a John Ford movie.
In other words, do so-called "popcorn films" deserve a different treatment or rules of discourse than "the classics" or art films? While I know many moviegoers consider "popcorn movie" to designate something worthwhile, I still think most critics (or critic-minded) view the same term with disdain. And that, of course, reinforces an impression of snobbery and elitism.
I prefer to view the above statements and sentiments in this article as applying how a critic should engage a discussion or assessment of ANY movie, regardless of the broadness of its supposed appeal. If I see any movie, I know whether I like it or not already. But I'm always interested to hear what others say, if only to deepen my own understanding of my reactions.
I think what baffles me most about the dominance of popcorn films at the box office is how, for every genuinely good "popcorn flick" that makes a killing at the box office, there are dozens of mediocre, uninspired examples that make as much, if not more money. Are all of these popcorn movies relatively equal in most people's eyes? To extend the fast-food metaphor, forget comparing a Big Mac to filet mignon; can't people simply tell the difference between a Big Mac and a real, quality cheeseburger?
And for the record, I thought the new Pirates of the Carribean was incredibly boring.
JE: Here's the difference: For the most part, critics want there to be MORE discussion, MORE exchange of views, about movies. I know I do. But what Scott and I are talking about are those moviegoers who say critics should just shut up and let them enjoy their popcorn movies. As if summer fare is unsuitable for critical discussion and can only be looked at as "fun." But talking and writing about movies IS fun for a lot of us. I fully enjoyed the discussion about "The Searchers," and I would have loved it if even more people (including Metcalf) had jumped in with Comments. What I'm concerned with is keeping the discussion about the movies, and at a level beyond "It sucks" or "It rocks" -- which tend to close off discussion rather than provoke an illuminating exchange of ideas and opinions.
Here's a no-registration-required link to the piece, courtesy of the NYT Link Generator:
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/07/18/movies/18crit.html?ex=1310875200&en=b65bfe4a55db6cab&ei=5090&partner=rssuserland&emc=rss
Yes, nothing is more frustrating than the "It sucked/rocked" verdict with no follow-up.
Still, I often teach films to college freshman (roughly the target audience for most blockbusters) and from the beginning I have been surprised at how willing they are to actually discuss and analyze films in depth the way we wish the "typical" moviegoer might. Yet at the beginning of every semester, their hostility to the idea of movie critics is palpable -- their perception, of course, is that critics only criticize, and never really enjoy anything they watch. I wish I knew what conditions them to feel this way; it reminds me of one of Roger Ebert's Great Movies essay where he wonders what causes so many people to lose their curiosity and sense of exploration in the time between childhood and adulthood. For whatever reason, though, this loss and the limited experience that results -- whether with books, movies, whatever -- seems to give people a massive inferiority complex, and a vocal defensiveness towards notions of critical thought. In my experience, they can be very skittish and uncertain about voicing deeper opinions at first, but that ability to think critically hasn't completely vanished. It takes some coaxing, but it's still there.
It also reminds me of an interview I once saw with Paul Thomas Anderson. He talked dismissively of his brief experience in film school, and said he just couldn't understand why professors come in the first day and announce that most of the films the students enjoyed were crap, but now they were going to study the great ones. Then they proceed to go all the way back to the beginnings of film history, and work their way to the present, maybe tossing a contemporary film in as a "reward." PT Anderson wondered, why can't this have been done in a reverse trajectory? Wouldn't it be more productive to start with what the students already know, and build from there? Wouldn't a deeper appreciation of the past be fostered if students worked their way backward through the traditions, rather than plunging headlong into the unfamiliar? Does there have to be such a separation between the present and the past, the commercial and the "artistic," etc?
I'm probably rambling now, but I guess my point is that in my experience many people resist engaging in critical arguments because they believe it means taking a giant leap into a realm of knowledge or expertise that they have little experience with, and simply get intimidated. With the right tone and demeanor, though -- for instance, my students always respond well to Roger Ebert's Great Movies essays -- they often do find they have something to add to the discussion. It's such a tough thing to accomplish at times, though: you want everyone to come to the party, but you don't want to party to be boring and one-note, either.
JE: I'll bet you're a good teacher, Aaron. You write: "Does there have to be such a separation between the present and the past, the commercial and the 'artistic,' etc?" That's exactly the question I wish more people would ask themselves. With DVD, especially, all movies are equal, whether they were released last year or 80 years ago. They're easily available for watching -- and to do so requires no special education or equipment. In other words, "Steamboat Bill, Jr." will play in your DVD player just as easily as "Failure to Launch." I think there are all kinds of approaches to teaching film -- and, above all, none of them needs to be difficult or painful!
I believe that the center of the problem is the "star" rating system. While a critic might acknowledge that a given pop summer film is entertaining and vaguely worthwhile, he cannot help but remember dozens of far better films that he has seen. His readers, of course, haven't seen as many films and thus enjoy the pop film more than he does; they can be alienated if he attacks something they enjoy.
At the same time, it's the responsibility of a critic to guide his readers to the films that truly are great works of art. To do this without giving bad ratings to films that are loved by audiences (if forgotten ten minutes later) it seems necessary to rate art value and entertainment value separately. I think of these poetically as "reach" and "grasp". Some of the public, to be sure, will find that they prefer films of little reach and will actively seek them out, but perhaps they could learn to trust critics enough to avoid the worst of the manufactured dreck. And we can hope that some of them will rise above the dreck altogether.
Alas, the simple numerical scale is so entrenched that it's hard to see a change coming any time soon.
JE: I agree, Timothy. Those of us who have had to "rate" films on any scale (stars, numerals, letter grades, thumbs) have often complained that readers don't bother to read -- they just look at the ratings. Roger Ebert has written (and spoken -- loudly!) about this, especially when people have protested that they think a movie should have gotten another star or half-star, or that they think the star rating didn't match what he said in the review. Well, the critic assigns the rating at the time of the review, so you pretty much have to take them together. Still, I much prefer to write about movies under a system that doesn't require these ratings. But how many of us review movies for The New Yorker or the New York Times?
I fail to see how Roger Ebert can have too many qualms with the "star" rating system. By utilising and popularising the "thumbs up/thumbs down" approach, he merely caters for the "sucked/rocked" crowd. This promotes such thoughts and can only lead to anger and resentment when fans of such a system are given the finger.