Do the Contrarian (Part II)

I've enjoyed contrarian (I&II) thoroughly. Thanks for putting it together.

Although I'm not quite familiar wiht the critics you cite as contrarians, their style defintely remind me of Harry Knowles and the gang at aintitcool.com.
When it comes to film criticism, specially when you know that your piece (film review) can be read isolated by a reader who's not really acquainted with the rest of your body it's crucial that you don't write as if you were taking for granted that the reader will/should know where one's coming from.

In that sense I find it obtuse when some paid critic writes as if he/she were talking to his/her 2-year-girlfriend/boyfriend who can easily understand his/her film tastes and knows that this critic's sign of approval consists mainly of a wink. When written they become written winks that get lost in the vacuum of telegraphic opinions or thoughts. It's a shortcut for real explananations.

Any film critic can be a hyperbole junkie among friends and family, before dwelling on the reasons of his extreme like or dislike for certain film. But it is lazy for a writer not to communicate coherently or without enough clarity to avoid sounding as if his/her past appreciations and experiences on film were part of the world's cultural canon, and therefore any jab at anything goes without any necessary explanation.

It is merely irresponsible for a critic to do that. But not because people will be "miseducated" by any antic that avoids a serious tone. But mainly because any given reader can really doubt that a hyperbole driven writer can be really serious.

It could incite the interest on a movie (the hyperboles) - and maybe create a legion of readers, but if the movie doesn't add up to the expectations generated by hyperboles, I bet most people (even those who don't consider themselves educated in cinema, but nevertheless have a inevitable visual education) will not consider that they are the ones to blame for not getting the brilliance expressed by that film critic, but probably they will blame the critic for over-hyping everything.

I read a couple of days ago that "Better than list" and I immediately wondered what Jim's opinion would be. I also had noticed the ridiculous elements in common that the critic chose to relate the films in question. And I was upset for a couple of seconds with it, but then I thought (without knowing who this critic was) that someone who loves movies, simply could not possibly be bashing Men of Children or El Laberinto del Fauno, as meaningless, or be put into some VS. list.

It seemed to me that it was all for the sake of infuriating an imaginary mainstream that exists only in this guy's head. Thus becoming something of a parody that reminded me of the way that a site named pitchforkmedia reviews music albums not on their own merits but from a editorial line that suggests "be as unexpected as it is uspected".

"Be as unexpected as it is uspected" it's mainly about giving a reading of who has liked that artist's work before and what has been said about it, and then on the basis of that form your own opinion, even if one's got to fight against one's own taste. Just for the sake of not beign like "that" group of people you hate so much, that you've made them so powerful in your own life that the thought of what they could say or have said about something (or both) it's actually governing your senses, perception, and ultimately embossing your taste. It's a crime and prison set by one self and both extremely hard to be set free from.
It must be hard to make up one's mind about a film work with the words and faces of all those critics you hate lingering over your brain while you watch the film.

Imagine:

"Picturing the web templates of the blogs you fear will like this film, and at the same time being fully alert not to fall for these phony films that are so enjoyable and yet so liked by the evildoers that could probably like it.

So one has to make the conscious decision to ban oneself from liking any movie that: MR. X likes. "

This kind of thought its a terrible prison I wouldn"t fancy living in.

Its insane.

The two contrarian pieces have done a lot to soothe me. I was lately chastised for putting A Prairie Home Companion on my Top 10 list for the year, and the criticizer surmised that I needed to "have my head examined" because only an "Altman fetishist" would consider it a great film.

I am a very poor defition of an Altman fetishist, but that hardly mattered; this guy's later responses revealed a bizarrely antagonistic view toward "critics" and "insiders." What I said didn't matter. Everything got twisted into some further "proof" that I was a pretentious snob like all the other critics and insiders. (He must have used those words a half-dozen times apiece.)

(Incidentally, I was surprised to find out I was an "insider" -- I volunteer for a pop culture site, of which there are hundreds, if not thousands, on the web. Could someone tell my used Honda and my tiny apartment that I am "insider" who only lists movies that can be only be found in "limited release in a basement in Greenwich Village"? Because it sure doesn't feel like it.

And yes, that is an actual quote.)

So yeah. I think there's a bit of a sickness out there, this reactionary anti-intellectualism that somehow equates expertise with suspicion. A Bizarro world where actually knowing something about something is a hindrance, not an asset.

I can only surmise it has something to do with self-esteem. When an average person is confronted with a contrary point of view or praise for something they haven't heard of, they take it as reason to ask questions or find out more about something potentially exciting. Curiosity is only healthy, after all. And adversity, large or small, is the best route to growth.

But not for these guys. To them, anything new is a threat or a direct challenge to their authority. If you're suitably old (and/or pompous enough), you can take on airs that you've seen it all and everything is beneath you, like Armond White. If you're young or inexperienced, you can just talk about pretension and ivory towers... and fail to see the irony or humor in those accusations. Like Armond White.

Anyway. Had to get that off my chest, sorry for the rambling nature of it...

These posts have been great. I despise the Better Than List. World Trade Center > United 93? Entirely unacceptable.

Thanks for the great posts Jim! I'm a long-time admirer and first time poster here, and I constantly find myself coming to Scanners as a breath of fresh air after choking on what most people call film criticism. I work in a video store, so I have to wade through most peoples' attack on my taste and judgement when they return their copy of A Prairie Home Companion (best of 06 in my opinion) and tell me "nothing happened." I've given up, and find that your site as well as SLIFL, Girish, House Next Door and others are fast becoming a thinking persons refuge. When I stumbled across the Armond White "Vs." list, I was at first amused by his reductionism and the arbitrary choice by which he compared films (this Mexican film is better than these Mexican films! Come on, thats borderline racist. If Scorsese directed Children of Men would it be compared to Running Scared instead of his The Departed?) Now he just angers and frustrates me, and I know I'm not alone. I don't usually rant but it really touched a nerve and I'm glad you have the conviction to call White out. Film can be a wonderful, exciting and new thing, ripe with discovery and passion that sparks serious and intelligent debate and conversation! Right now, 99% of what I see is anti-intellectual idiocy. Keep at it Jim, you're my favorite critic writing right now.

Nav, that was my immediate thought! There's no way "World Trade Center" can even approach the cinematic accomplishments of "United 93."

Jim, you never cease to amaze me with your keen ability to hit the nail on the head with every issue I have with film criticism, the two largest of which are anti-intellectualism and "contrarianism" which your latest entries addressed. You're absolutely my favorite critic out there and one of our most relevant social commentators, particularly when it comes to the culture and politics of film and film criticism. Keep it up.

Just a note though, I would fight you TO THE DEATH about the ending of "Children of Men." I think it is absolutely a pessimistic ending, everything in the film points to groups being corrupt and we had no emotional or even strong first narrative experience with the Human Project. I think it's a government organization, just like in "1984," creating the resistance in order to control it and subvert it. the Human Project is completely analogous to the Brotherhood. I could go on forever . . . Cuaron is toying with the audience. He wants us to look at how comfortable we are. Why would we trust them? He wants us to apply it to our situation. Those believing the "happy ending" are those who trust that which they shouldn't in our country. The film does illustrate the transcendant beauty of human life and the incredible of people to unify around that, but the film is always thrown back into war after these scenes. The transcendance is powerful but easily forgotten, much like how America could unite in the face of 9/11 mortality and then engage in the actions of Iraq, etc. Humanity and its beauty is appreciated and forgotten and Cuaron sees both sides of this. The ending is about the latter half of this, we're at sea, without leadership, in the hands of forces we have no control over. The terror or safety we as audience members feel depends on our complacency or our ability to resist that which is thrust upon us and continue fighting, not with any radical political agenda, but with the earnest love of humanity and life exhibited by Clive Owen, the martyred example.

Wow, I got off topic. My bad, Jim.

Great posts, Jim. I'm a long time reader, first time poster. You have summed up rather pointedly so much that is wrong with our current participation in media as spectators and, in this case, critics. The critics need to be the ones deciding trends, not reacting to them, as if to be upholding a natural contrarian nature that is built-in to being a critic. That mindset has only emerged because critics are no longer viewed as those who inform about a given subject, but rather cranky people who are out of touch with consumers. Sadly, too many people have bought into this idea that now even some critics have as well.

It seems that so many journalistic critics have reduced themselves to trying to be "hip" (trying to sound like your friend W here) so that they can once again appeal to the populus, and in so doing, have damaged the image and reputation of critics. In many cases, critics themselves have fueled this idea that has lately defined a great deal of criticism. There is very seldom discussion about the cinema in any productive way; rather, so many journalistic critics sound the same, as if buying into a trend about a given movie. It's a shame, but a great deal of critics miss the whole point of what being a critic is all about. There are, of course, many exceptions to this, but reading your posts, Jim, reminded me of my criticisms of the rather stagnant realm of journalistic film criticism.

Thanks for the posts, Mr. Emerson.

I sometimes slip over the edge and put on my paranoid conspiracy theorist hat. It would be easy to do this when reflecting on Mr. White's reviews. I'll try to resist.

Much, but not enough in my opinion, has been made of the neo-conservative tendency to attack a critic (as you said, ad hominem attacks) rather address the critic's arguments. Not having read any of Mr. White's reviews, and based solely on your citations, he makes significant use of the tactic.

We could debate endlessly about his motivations (e.g., he was a motion picture studies student whose professors failed him because of his relentlessly conservative take on everything; or, he's part of an ongoing neo-con conspiracy to marginalize anything that disagrees with their point of view; or, he's a relentless personal publicity hound, or...you get the idea).

Ultimately, what effect does his prose have? He uses several rhetorical tricks such as the ad hominem attack, non sequiturs, and so on (and one that neither you nor any other person posting to this discussion has mentioned, gamesmanship or "the Endless Citations" - referring to dozens of other movies, which establishes his credentials as a movie expert in the eyes of someone not so well informed).

The effect of this is to bludgeon an uninformed person's opinion into submission. Intelligent, rational and critical thinkers (critical in the sense of being able to evalutate something and make a decision about it) are immune to rhetoric like this. It is the larger mass of less informed, less critical, less educated people that are targeted by these reviews. The effect is to try to bully these people into accepting that this is a) rational discourse, and b) anyone disagreeing with the expressed opinions is morally, intellectually, artistically and/or patriotically lacking.

While I'm just a humble Canadian, I certainly think that anyone who behaves like this in any debate could be charged with violating your First Amendment which guarantees...what was it...free speech?

The sad fact is that defending free speech requires that we allow activities like this to proceed. Mr. White has as much right to express his opinion as anyone else. The only cure is education.

Funny how neo-cons dislike funding schools and universities and libraries, isn't it?

One of the things that is so frustrating about contrarians is that they very often have a solid point on which to build their (counter) arguments. Unfortunately, they obsure this point behind exaggerated rhetoric and, to use a phrase from A.W., "hipster" posturing.

Take the good folks at www.reverseshot.com as an example. It's an excellent website with an extremely high level of criticism, for the most part. But they are not above taking cheapshots at both films and film reviewers simply to be contrarian.

They bring up valid points about "Pan's Labyrinth" and "United 93", for example (about the simplistic approach to fascism in the former, and about the absence of any artistry in favour of reportage in the latter). Their qualms about those two films were very similar to my own reservations about them, but they were still among my favourite films of the year. I think that a good critic should be able to grapple with the weaknesses of a film they admire (or, conversely, the strengths of a film they dislike) without resorting to dismissive phrases like "garbage" (as Reverse Shot unfortunately does).

It's fine to be passionate, and I know that I certainly feel that certain sacred cows (like "Fight Club") are worthy of the term garbage. But I would back up that charge with reasoned arguments that explain my response to the film, rather than attacking critics who admire the movie. Reverse Shot often takes potshots at who they perceive as "middlebrow" critics like A.O. Scott and Roger Ebert, rather than providing arguments to their opinions. It comes across as the petty bitterness of young, aspiring critics (as most of Reverse Shot's writers are) who are angry at those who have "made it big" and write for major publications. This, and their tendency to ignore a film's strengths at the same time they are finding fault with its subtexts, belittles Reverse Shot's often valid arguments.

The same is true of most contrarians, and that is why the fascinate and frustrate us so much: we know that on some level, they may have a point, but we tend to ignore it because it is bogged down in semantics, exaggeration...and in the case of Armond White, just plain nuttiness.

World Trade Center > United 93? Entirely unacceptable.
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Well, I just wish there had been more critical settings on United 93 between OFF and HIGH; between White and "Everyone in America MUST see this movie!"

Kauffmann, for example, managed to give it a good review while still raising some questions about the film's content and overall purpose.

Agreed, these are a couple of fascinating posts. But in regards to the "Better Than" list, I think White made a few decent points, albeit quite arrogantly.

The item on the list that really caught my eye was his comparison of Running Scared and The Departed. I would consider Scorsese one of the best filmmakers in human history, but I found The Departed to be hugely overrated, never terribly compelling and far from the jaw-dropping excellence of something like Goodfellas or Raging Bull. Not a bad movie by any stretch, but not the masterpiece it was hailed as (in my opinion). Meanwhile, Running Scared failed critically and commerically, and yet it seemed to me about as daring, shocking, and fiendishly entertaining an American neo-noir as I've ever seen. Wildly overblown, yes, but it had the kind of grit and guts that The Departed seemed sorely lacking.

So, my point (at long last): Maybe we need a guy like White out there, if for nothing else than some occasional validation for when we fall in love with a movie that almost everyone else on earth despises (though Ebert like Running, too) and feel disappointed with one that everyone else on earth seems to like.

And the rest of the time, we can just ignore and/or mock him, as we do O'Reilly.

Hi, Jim--

As the publisher of the blog The House Next Door, I made the Rosenbaum-Altman comment you cited in this piece: "I love that he's the only critic with any kind of a profile who's willing to go against the grain during a week when Altman was all but canonized."

And though I do disagree with Altman's comparing "Nashville" to "Bobby" and finding the former indequate and condescending (that's like favoring the Monkees over the Beatles) I thought the remark was provocative and useful, mainly for what it said about Rosenbaum's feelings on Altman. It's worth pointing out that in a larger context, Rosenbaum, an important critic with usually eclectic taste, wasn't actually being a contrarian in this case -- without meaning to, he was siding with, and expressing the feelings of, the vast majority of American moviegoers who never had much use for Altman, if in fact they ever knew his name. Rosenbaum's piece was representative of a persistent strain of negative opinion towards Altman throughout his career (mainly based on the perception that he's a misanthrope or cynic -- a perception that's only half true; he expects the worst of humanity as a species, but has great affection for some but not all of his characters). That strain of thought was forced underground in the immediate aftermath of the master's passing. The slam was impolite, under the circumstances -- but critics aren't supposed to be polite. A cheap shot with some truth in it is preferable to cautious silence.

It sounds crazy, but I think Altman would have appreciated it. He was a tough, confident artist, and he was all about varieties of experience and response. He was, after all, a director whose Criterion edition laserdisc of "Short Cuts" reprinted dozens of full-length reviews of the film in a supplement, many of them negative, and included two critic commentary tracks, one by Michael Wilmington (rapturously positive) and the other by Pauline Kael (mixed to negative -- sometimes very negative). It takes an incredibly confident man to do something like that -- a man who very likely would have been amused by Rosenbaum's putdown, if in fact it ever occured to him to use the Chicago Reader for anything besides a source of rolling paper.

Getting back on track (sort of) I think what we're talking about here isn't so much the viewpoints expressed as HOW they're expressed -- either by blanket assertions mixed with snide putdowns of people the critic deems stupid/misguided etc., or through arguments that either persuade or don't, based on the quality of the examples and reasoning.

That said, as we both know, criticism's subjective, and one reader's trusted guide is another's counterexample. As a reader and viewer, I very rarely come across a critic or a filmmaker whose work is almost entirely pleasing to me. There are always misjudgments, blunders, examples of laziness or muddled thinking, a tendency to fall back on old habits rather than innovate, a certain amount of preening and harrumphing, etc.; both directors and critics create extensions of their personalities, and since no human being is perfect, no work is perfect. I am suspicious, therefore, of criticism that dismisses particular artists or works in totality, or that seeks to rationalize away flaws on behalf of sacred cow films or filmmakers (the critic as bobby soxer).

And yes, critics can be assholes; some would say that one noun is a synonym for the other. But it comes with the territory. If you're going to make a living telling other people what they're doing wrong and right, you're going to step over the line sometimes (or often) and be hurtful. The best critics construct a persona in print, and it's not always a reassuring one, even when the critic's work tends to be more measured. Ebert's a mostly gentle, even sunny-side-up sort of critic, but sometimes he can be withering, even cruel. It's an occupational hazard. When I look back on some of the pans I've written, and imagine the object of the pan sitting there reading it at the breakfast table, I cringe. And then I resolve not to picture that scenario anymore, because if I keep it in my head, there's no chance I'll be able to do my job.

It's foolish to rely on any single critic as one's tastemaker and guide. It's like trusting mommy or daddy to tell you what to do and think. Better to adopt an a la carte approach: a bit of this, a bit of that. Filmmakers are interested in (and good at) particular things, and not interested in (or bad at) other things, and that's why we watch movies by more than one filmmaker. The same is true of critics.

As for ReverseShot taking potshots at critics, well, they've whacked me a couple of times, and yes, they're mostly younger critics taking aim at more established names. But there's a long precedent for that. It's how young critics get noticed; it's part of the cycle -- the young warrior calling out the village elder and saying, "Bring it." Early in Pauline Kael's career (which started fairly late, by critic standards) she took potshots at more established bylines to set herself apart from them, and not only did it work for her professionally (getting her noticed), some of her observations had merit. Decades later, younger critics took shots at Kael, and while the motivation was often careerist in nature, the takedowns sometimes had merit.

Jim, I'll write more about these pieces when I have a little more time, but I just wanted to be as anti-contrarian as possible and congratulate you on an excellent series. I'd like to write a little bit more on my site as well-- I've gone round and round with Mr. White and his increasingly hermetic observations for a long time. But until I can, I just wanted to say that I found your clearheaded analysis refreshing in the extreme. Thanks so much for helping to start 2007 off with a welcome explosion of good sense and good humor.

Alex,

as a member of the Reverse Shot stable, I'd just like to respond to your above post. I certainly recognize the tactics of outright dismissal employed by many of us - hell, imagine the mud that gets slung when we disagree with each other! (and we do!). In fact, this is what I find most despicable about White: he takes many of the strategies that many of us use and exaggerates them to the nth degree, at the expense of actual analysis or the necessary contrariness that many of our writers bring to the films they write about. White should be a shining, cautionary example of what happens when a critic (and a once fine critic at that) ceases to function as a critic and becomes a mere polemicist.

On the other hand, I take issue with your depiction of us as petty, bitter young pups trying to nab our place at the "big-time" critical trough (mixing animal metaphors there, but never mind...). I can't speak for all of our contributors, but our varying degrees of penury aside, I think writing for the NYT or wherever else is not really a paramount ambition for most of us - even those who do write for NYT. The fact that some succesful and working film critics regularly contribute to our site gratis testifies less to frustrated ambition than to the appeal for the space, scope, and open editorial policy offered by RS, qualities that are most often scanty in a "major" publication. Our disdain for the Eberts and Scotts has not to do with their income, but with their relentlessly homogenized taste. And since they're better able than most to spread that taste in thick, creamy layers over the reading public, our dander gets up and we sometimes get a little stroppy pushing in the other direction.

None of which changes the scientifically verifiable fact that Babel is the worst movie in the history of the universe and beyond.

Thanks, everybody, for responding pretty much in the spirit in which these "anti-contrarian" posts were intended. I was trying to be somewhat playful, although I do think the points raised are fairly serious and substantial.

Matt: Thanks very much for commenting (and, again, congrats on your NYT gig!). I think we can all learn plenty from reading a bad review -- just as we can from watching a bad movie.

And you're right, of course, that those "young whippersnappers" have long used attacks on the establishment as ways to get themselves noticed. My only objection is when that's all they're trying to do. Taking down someone because you think they're wrong is to be expected (and may even be commendable); attacking someone JUST because they're popular or well-known is... well, juvenile, I suppose. As you say, it's the content of their criticism, and the way they express it, that makes all the difference.

I think you're right that Altman may have been amused -- but I'm also pretty certain he wouldn't give an inch to one of his critics. He'd remember lines from reviews he thought were idiotic and could recite them. He'd happily trash any critic who said anything bad about any of his movies. Of course he knew that anybody would like some of his movies better than others, but he wouldn't be pinned down! (Although he may once have admitted "OC and Stiggs" wasn't one of his best, or one of his favorites -- but he did defend it as a SATIRE of teen movies.) I also remember him trashing Pat McGilligan's Altman bio, saying it was nothing but garbage. I wish more filmmakers would be combative as Altman in defending/explaining their work to those of us who are sometimes just too dumb to get it (as he might have said)...

Brandon: I like your version of the ending of "Children of Men." Next time I see it (and I do intend to watch it again) I'll see if it strikes me any differently than it did the first time...

Hi, Jim--

Thanks for the response--one other thought, though. You write, "And you're right, of course, that those "young whippersnappers" have long used attacks on the establishment as ways to get themselves noticed. My only objection is when that's all they're trying to do. Taking down someone because you think they're wrong is to be expected (and may even be commendable); attacking someone JUST because they're popular or well-known is... well, juvenile, I suppose."

Might as well define our terms here. How can you tell when a new critic is firing shots across an old fogie's bow for purely careerist reasons? There's are certain risks involved -- accusations of sour grapes and future employability problems among them. (I've been told that I lost out on a couple of gigs because I talked trash in print about one of their critics.)

I tend to think that more often than not such pieces stem from a sense of aesthetic affront rather than the desire to plant one's flag in the landscape. I get this sense not just from ReverseShot's occasional takedowns of fellow critics, but also from, say, Jonathan Rosenbaum's point-by-point refutation of Terrence Rafferty's New Yorker review of "Do the Right Thing," published in the National Society of Film Critics anthology "Love and Hisses," or Kael's frequent tirades against then-New York Times first stringer Bosley Crowther, which asserted (rightly, it turned out) that the 60s films Crowther often panned were representative of a new approach to American commercial narrative, and demanded a fresh response.

But short of mind-reading, I'm not sure how this sort of thing can be quantified. I'd like to hear your thoughts.

Hi Matt:

I think you've outlined the differences very well in your comments. It doesn't require mind-reading, just the ability to distinguish between an argument and a real or staged tantrum. (Which is exactly what I was seeking to do in the first of these "Do the Contrarian" posts.) One engages on points of substance; the other expresses itself as rage or disdain, above and beyond whatever brought it on -- and is usually thrown primarily to get attention.

It's easy to take potshots at anybody who writes (especially when they're writing on daily newspaper deadlines). But it's one thing to fling insults at somebody, like calling Bosley Crowther a blowhard or an old fogey (even if the shoe fits), and it's another thing to cite specifics from his writing to show how you think he misunderstands or misrepresents a movie, or a whole string of movies. As long as the criticism itself is focused on those specifics, I don't think it really matters what the writer's (ulterior?) motives are. A sharp critical voice should engage criticism he/she thinks is lazy or wrong-headed. But you can usually divine what somebody's trying to accomplish when the takedown is superficial and loaded with insults rather than evidence. Arguing with someone's opinion or reasoning is a valid and worthwhile exchange of ideas. Putting somebody down just so you can raise yourself up is something else entirely, and I think the difference between these approaches is usually fairly apparent (or transparent). I get e-mails (and, much more rarely, comments) of both kinds. I find that I want to respond to the ones that really challenge me; I see no point in responding to somebody who just wants to say "You're an idiot! You wouldn't know a GOOD movie if it fell on your pointy little head!"

Jonathan Rosenbaum's point-by-point refutation of that "DTRT" review is a good example of fruitful criticism: It's about the work, citing evidence from the review (and the movie) to build a case. And part of Rosenbaum's criticism of Rafferty is that the latter "falls into the trap of imputing certain motives to Spike Lee that exist outside the film's own frame of reference." I'm a sucker for a good, old-fashioned "close reading of the text" -- and Rosenbaum does a fine job of looking at both Rafferty's writing and Spike Lee's film. It may be incidental, but I also think his observations about the movie are generally illuminating ones. (BTW, "Love and Hisses," edited by my old LAFCA colleague Peter Rainer, is my very favorite of all the NSFC books, not only because of its point-counterpoint concept, but because the movies and reviews selected tend to be the ones that stir passions, and are worthy of detailed thought and discussion.)

I read a fair amount of film criticism (for this blog -- not before I write my own reviews), and I find that the reviews I most want to respond to are not the ones with which I necessarily disagree (about whether the movie is an artistic success or failure), but the ones where I think the critic has just not understood or accurately represented the movie in his/her review. (I'd love to write a point-by-point response to Stephanie Zacharek's "Letters From Iwo Jima" review because I think her criticisms run in circles and her whole approach to the movie -- that it tries to "humanize" the Japanese, but doesn't portray them as the vicious fighters they actually were -- is a distortion and, finally, beside the point. As one critic-friend put it, "It has the feel of somebody writing in search of something to criticize.")

I've never agreed with any critic all the time -- not even myself, and I'm happy when I can learn something and correct the errors of my ways.

As someone who has been called a contrarian, I find this discussion pretty interesting--particularly the "how do you spot a contrarian?" issue. Some false spottings would include: The Devil's Advocate. This person is a must in many crowds where a certain homogeneity holds sway but, unless you want blood to be spilled you should wear your DA badge as you badger (sorry). This person is me, I guess, because, unlike my friends I don't consider an argument to be the same as a dispute, often I agree with them but want them to refine or define their point which they may take as an attack. Next comes the specialist vs. generalist. Some specialists truly do think only movies involving Chinese martial arts are worth watching and some generalists really can feel warm, cozy thoughts towards both "The Sound of Music" and "Kill Bill." I was recently reading Manny Farber who I had heard good things about, and yes, he was great to read on his beloved but, it seemed to me (at least in this particular collection), extremely circumscribed corner of the movie universe. I think we need both of these sorts of critics for intensive or everyday use. That leaves the True Rebel and Knee-jerk Contrarian and we can only hope the rebel writes well enough to show his true colors in the long run. And the long run, I hope, is still what matters most. (Such as Robert Altman's career.) I guess the bottom line is that it may not be possible to spot a Contrarian in any one piece but their shelf-life is brief, however long their career may be.

Good point, Dane. I'd hope we all get contrarian at some time or another -- for the right reasons. To elaborate on what Matt and I were talking about, I think the difference between a genuine (i.e. thoughtful) contrarian and a poseur is the difference between engaging in an argument (which expects a response) and throwing a tantrum (which is focused on getting attention for oneself).

Maybe it's just me and my low low IQ, but all this chat about contrarianism (in film criticism, politics, elsewhere) vs. anti-contrarianism vs. anti-anti-contrarianism is making my head spin. It'll probably only get worse when I tune in later this month for this...

But seriously folks, I generally agree with Jim on this. It's just that I don't think contrarianism is necessarily emblematic of only the American right. It's an extreme example to be sure, but for instance, what genuine/thoughtful (to use Jim's description, which I agree with) contrarianism/criticism was being expressed by Keith Olbermann when this photo was taken? On the other hand, I think Stephen Colbert generally has the recipe for effective satirical contrarianism down cold, even if I don't necessarily agree with his true feelings on O'Reilly and the right. I'd certainly rather watch Colbert than read another movie review by Debbie Schlussel (any of you heard of her?) who never fails to turn all of her movie reviews into far-right partisan screeds.

Finally, I just can't conclude this (once again overlong) post without quoting someone I believe is one of the greatest artists of the 20th century: Charles Schulz, who in an early 1960s Peanuts strip, depicted Linus (or maybe Lucy) telling Charlie Brown that he/she'd like to be a "professional criticizer", or wording to that effect, when he/she grows up. Good ol' CB responds that he thinks that's great, maybe said criticism could improve the lot of many American lives. Wherein Linus/Lucy responds: "No, I just like criticizing everything!"

Happy 2007 everyone.

As for ReverseShot taking potshots at critics, well, they've whacked me a couple of times, and yes, they're mostly younger critics taking aim at more established names. But there's a long precedent for that. It's how young critics get noticed; it's part of the cycle -- the young warrior calling out the village elder and saying, "Bring it." Early in Pauline Kael's career (which started fairly late, by critic standards) she took potshots at more established bylines to set herself apart from them, and not only did it work for her professionally (getting her noticed), some of her observations had merit. Decades later, younger critics took shots at Kael, and while the motivation was often careerist in nature, the takedowns sometimes had merit.

Now this would be an interesting road to start down, I think. Because those "young critics" of yore, in order to take these potshots, must have been noticed already--how else would they have gained the platform from which to shoot?

The young critic of today, however, thanks to the growing popularity and exposure of self-published endeavors like blogs, can use these potshots quite literally to get noticed. A particularly biting or elegant criticism might indeed becoming a young critic's calling card...

This represents something new, no? The rules have changed, yes?

Since I was the one who mentioned Reverse Shot and their potshots at established critics, which set in motion a new thread of discussion on this blog and conjured up images of "young pups" chomping away at the big dog's feet, I just want to acknowledge some of the responses to my comment.

Andrew - I didn't mean to imply that the writers at Reverse Shot are jealous of the salaries of the better-known critics. My wording, if I remember correctly, was that it "comes across" as such. I love Reverse Shot and frequently turn to it for excellent insight (United 93's "absence-of-artistry" approach that you so rightly called out crystalized many of my own reservations about the film...although I still was riveted by it and was not as damning of Greengrass as your website). What I meant to convey was that your focus on certain critics occasionally strays from, as you say, genuine disgust at their "homogenized taste" to a personal attack that, frankly, does little to advance film culture of film criticism.

Recent examples that spring to mind: a blog post titled "A.O.-for-four" focused on four recent favourable ratings that A.O. Scott had dished out to movies Reverse Shot found severely flawed (or perhaps even reprehensible). It might have been an interesting starting point for a post to take Scott's rave reviews and dissect them, demonstrating where Reverse Shot disagreed with respect to the individual films. But, as I recall, the post merely showed which films Scott loved, accompanied by certain snide remarks preceding his rapturous praise, and left it at that. In other words, the purpose of the post (and I think this is critical in our general discussion of contrarianism) was to accentuate the difference between Reverse Shot and A.O. Scott, as opposed to accentuating the difference between Reverse Shot's analysis of films and A.O. Scott's analysis of films.

Reverse Shot's latest blog post begins by calling David Poland a "literal half-wit"...perhaps deserved considering that he refers to Reverse Shot's writers as having the smugness of a freshman film student (which, I fear, you may believe to me my opinion of the site as well, when nothing could be farther from the truth). As I recall, the rivalry between Reverse Shot and Poland may have been fueled by the disagreement over "Little Children". Reverse Shot posted a (somewhat sarcastic) blog that mocked Poland's (admittedly amusing) praise of "Little Children". Once again, rather than taking aim at the film (as your website brilliantly did in a different blog), it seemed as if the purpose of that particular blog was to mock Poland and his sincere adulation for the film. It's one thing to be outraged by praise for a film you find reprehensible. Every time Mr. Emerson waxes poetic about "Fight Club", I experience the same indignation, but I would never call Mr. Emerson a half-wit for his opinions on the film.

There was also a toss-off aside in Reverse Shot's rapturous review of "The New World" that struck me as a cheapshot. To paraphrase: "Just because a buffoon like Richard Roeper calls it right while a more respectable critic like J. Hoberman pans it shouldn't take away from the film's majesty".

These and other examples are what I was referring to when I mentioned you in the previous post. As I said, I am a huge admirer of the site and feel that it's contribution to film analysis is as strong as anyone's (the recent publication "Reverse Shot Fesses Up" was a brilliant, fresh look at some classic films). But I am left with a certain impression of bitterness when Reverse Shot talks about some of the critics mentioned above (Scott, Roeper, Ebert). If this is, as you say, bitterness about their middling taste, then why not attack their opinions in more detail, and with more consistency, rather than simply resorting to name-calling? I understand your point about being frustrated by the influence that the Eberts and Scotts have, and wanting to speak out against that influence, but I contend that there is a more constructive, useful way to do this (and I know Reverse Shot is capable of it).

Matt Zoller Seitz - I think we're on the same page, basically, when it comes to identifying contrarianism for the sake of contrarianism and separating it from a genuinely passionate argument.

As for your point about the young pups, it's a valid one (heck, my original J'Accuse to Reverse Shot has generated enough of a response that I may have inadvertantly made it my "calling card"). I think that it's important for young critics to define themselves against other opinions, but (and I think this is where Reverse Shot occasionally fails), it's also important to remember to debate the ideas a person puts forward rather than attacking that person.

Jim Emerson - I agree with you that Matt's example of Rosenbaum vs. Rafferty is not simply petty contrarianism, but rather the ideal way to build an argument for a film against another critic's writings. The entire book "Love and Hisses", actually, serves as a wonderful example of the ways in which critics of diverging opinions can help in fully exploring a film's strengths, weaknesses, meanings and subtexts. That aids film culture...saying "Person X wouldn't know a good movie if it bit him in the Y" does not.

I particularly like the what Andy said about trying to be noticed, especially in relation to Alex's excellent post. I think there are more productive ways of evaluating criticism than merely slamming critics like Scott and Ebert for their homogenized styles. Merely pointing out how bad one's opinion is by using your own differing opinion as a source of comparisson is just as foolish. Alex points out much of the hypocrisy in the claims of anti-establishment intellectuals, as many of their own styles of criticism are subject to a series of conventions and ideologies which dictate the nature and direction of their "criticisms." As Alex said, if you acknowledge the impact of critics like Ebert and Scott, then they have influenced your own standpoint in some way and you are positioned to react to it either by making it part of your own or rejecting it and choosing to make your criticism and observations less homogenized. For this reason, I think it is foolish to lambast popular critics for their writing and critiquing styles, especially when the best form of doing so is to tear them down for their conventional approaches to criticism; rather than actually criticizing the text and providing a valid argument for why it makes for ineffective criticism and pointing out the grounds on which you form your own argument and building one's own approach. Because, in the end, those views are defined every bit as much by Ebert and Scott's critical ideologies as Ebert and Scott are.

Criticism is similar to the cinema in many ways. These contrarians remind me of the avant garde filmmaker who insists upon how uniform and cliche mainstream Hollywood work. What these people don't realize is that their supposedly original styles still stand in relation to the pre-existing conventions with which they have become familiarized. That mainstream practice allows for rebels and contrarians to exist at all. They are still members of the same system of communication.

True originality only is possible when you can producitvely utilize what has been made familiar and make already established elements and styles interact differently; a building process which thus unveils new perspectives and approaches. This is true of filmmaking, film viewing, and film criticism, all of which cyclically influence each other. Being contrary by insisting upon how original one's ideas in relation to the dominant ideology is incredibly foolish and an incredibly unproductive manner of exploring and discovering truly new perspectives. In fact, it's only perpetuating the same cycle, one that does not allow progress to occur.

I second Ted's comments. A life that was all alt would be as colorless as one all mainstream. We need the contrast. And I think it's usually pretty clear in Ebert's reviews, if you actually read them instead of just watching his thumb, which stream he is dipping into. As far as his taste, mine is very, very different, but I find him the most useful in deciding where to spend my money (just one part of the job, I know) because he uses language which matches the film and its likely audience. His paper's readership is diverse, remember. To simply pan every teen flick, or horror movie, or animated knockoff that doesn't live up to the canon wouldn't really make sense in his position. He compares these mainstream genres to each other and reserves a separate system for the real stuff--such as voicing complaints when Scorsese or someone isn't really trying rather than comparing "The Departed" to "Shall We Dance" or something. If that makes him a sellout, then the very act of taking a job at a paper not designed strictly for serious film fans does, too. I don't think so. By the way, this post isn't just about Ebert, but he's the one I know best.