Psychologists say that depression is rage turned inward. Stand-up comedy, on the other hand, is rage turned back outward again. (I believe George Carlin had a routine about the use of violent metaphors directed at the audience in comedy: "Knock 'em dead!" "I killed!") In the documentary "Heckler" (now on Showtime and DVD) comedian Jamie Kennedy, as himself, plays both roles with ferocious intensity. The movie is his revenge fantasy against anyone who has ever heckled him on stage, or written a negative review... or, perhaps, slighted him in on the playground or at a party or over the phone or online.
"Heckler" (I accidentally called it "Harangue" just now) is an 80-minute howl of fury and anguish in which Kennedy and a host of other well-known and not-well-known showbiz people tell oft-told tales of triumphant comebacks and humiliating disasters, freely venting their spleens at those who have spoken unkindly of them. At first the bile is aimed at hecklers in club audiences (with some particularly nasty invective for loudmouthed drunken women), then it shifts to "critics" -- broadly defined as anybody who says something negative about a figure whose work appears before a paying public. Some of the critics are actually interested in analysis; some are just insult comics who are using the Internet as their open mic. It gets pretty ugly, but it's fascinating -- because the comics, the critics and the hecklers are so much alike that it's no wonder each finds the others so infuriating.
We all know people whose egos are so enormously sensitive (or sensitively enormous) that they seem to remember every affront they've ever suffered. Each cut remains as fresh as the moment it was inflicted, because they keep picking the scab again and again, reliving the moment of initial injury until it assumes mythological proportions. The movie's thesis is that performers are exceptionally thin-skinned human beings, which is true to some extent. It is also true to some extent that performers have brown eyes, and the percentage may be roughly the same, but I doubt there's any significant correlation.
Of course it's preposterous for people who make a living seeking laughter and applause (often by subjecting other people to public ridicule) to feel that they are above criticism or rejection. But there's no use telling somebody who seeks the spotlight that if they can't stand the heat they should get out of the kitchen. That's like telling a crackhead to Just Say No. The drive to "kill," the addiction, the high -- these are extremely powerful forces, but they don't necessarily mitigate the suffering that can also accompany them.
(John Cleese was once asked if psychotherapy, which made him less angry and miserable, also may have made him less funny. He said yes, but he didn't care. He'd rather live a happier life.)
At the start of the film, Kennedy is devastated by the critical and popular failure of "Son of the Mask," the 2005 sequel to the Jim Carrey movie in which Kennedy played the lead. He is angry, depressed and hurt by how mean some of the responses have been, haunted by fears that if millions of people visit a particular no-name web site and see the vicious things somebody has said about his talents there, his career will be over. He seeks solace from other performers (predominantly stand-ups), invites hecklers at his live shows backstage for interrogation, and eventually confronts some of his critics -- from print, TV and the web -- by reading their own reviews back to them, line by line, and asking them to justify what they've said about him. What do they want? Are they trying to destroy him just because they don't think he's funny? Do they think their "criticism" will help him improve?
Some comedians argue that a laugh is a laugh and that's all the criticism that matters. Others value the difference between a cheap or hacky laugh and a well-earned one, a perfect fusion of delivery and material. In a room full of drunk people two fart jokes may both get laughs although one may be a reflexive response to the use of the word "fart," and the other may be a masterpiece of construction, timing and tone. To some (onstage or in the audience) it matters, to others it doesn't.
Here's what Kennedy has to say about the movie in a September 2007 entry on his blog, "the tunafish diaries":
In September, 2005, a couple months after the release of Son of the Mask, director Mike Addis and I set out to shoot a documentary about hecklers. We toured the country for months, shooting shows, and interviewing comics. As we were on the road, Addis pointed out that, coincidentally, we were going through some of the towns in which some of the most spiteful critics of the movie were living. Being a masochist, I decided I wanted to interview those guys. They sort of fit in with the idea of the documentary, because, in one sense of the word, they WERE hecklers. Isn't that what a lot of critics are? They were not just critiquing the movie, they were critiquing my career, my life, my face. There are obviously good critics out there, but there are also a lot of guys that really are hecklers...just in a written medium. It seemed that comparing critics to hecklers would be a kind of interesting sociological experiment.
Heckling is nothing new--it existed in Shakespearean theater, Vaudeville, Milton Berle's act, The Muppet Show. It's been around forever. Stand-up comedians are trained to deal with hecklers. I've become pretty good at dealing with hecklers in a live environment and found it isn't that hard to shut up and/or humiliate those who attack me. But the heckling phenomenon has taken a new shape with the advent of the Internet. Twenty years ago, there were only a handful of critics writing for papers. Now there are literally thousands...blogging and writing on websites especially. Today, when that same comedian makes a movie, he's attacked on all sides for that work--on the Internet, in papers, on the radio and TV--and he has no recourse. What we found really amazing was the degree of resentment and anger toward those trying to make people laugh (especially if they were getting paid well for it). Sites like "Aint It Cool News," "Hollywood Bitchslap," "Rotten Tomatoes," "WaffleMovie.com" all just try to outsnark each other. They even have AWARDS for movies that are the most poorly received.
In "Heckler," it's sometimes hard to tell how aware Kennedy is of the self-pity he's wallowing in (he only wants to make people laugh, people!) -- or how disingenuous he's being about it. If you prick him, does he not bleed? Sometimes his pouting is (intentionally, I think) pretty funny because it seems so nakedly needy. This is, after all, the guy who did a hidden camera prank show for three years. He knows how to set people up for ridicule and humiliation, though he doesn't always seem to be enjoying it very much himself. (He's also the guy who appeared at the Arby's Action Sports Awards in 2006 with a pair of red lacy undies on his head, flashing a handmade sign for the paparazzi that said "I Found Brittney's Panties" [sic]. Is that mean?)
Kennedy is right about this: We live in a post-"MST3K" culture where heckling is accepted, even expected. In a way it's a compliment -- at least it implies some form of engagement between the audience and the entertainment. Many in the crowd are texting and tweeting and talking to people who aren't in the same room. That's a passive-aggressive form of heckling perhaps, but it's less overtly disruptive than yelling.
My favorite heckler comeback is from Paul F. Tompkins (fondly remembered by me as Champion the Drinker on an episode of "Mr. Show with Bob & David"), who says he told one drunken loudmouth: "Sir, if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to hurt my feelings." That's a good line. Remember it. This whole movie can be viewed as an exercise in "L'esprit de l'escalier," and there's a lot you can learn from it so that the next time you wish you'd said something clever after-the-fact, maybe there's something here you can wish you'd remembered to say.
* * * *
Among the performers who appear in interviews or other footage in "Heckler" are: Louie Anderson, Criss Angel, Dave Atell, Maria Bamford, Lewis Black, Uwe Boll, Carrot Top, Andrew Dice Clay, David Cross, Mike Ditka, Craig Ferguson, Carrie Fisher, Larry Flynt, Judah Friedlander, Gilbert Gottfried, Tom Green, David Alan Grier, Kathy Griffin, Peter Guber, Arsenio Hall, Bill Hicks, Paris Hilton, Perez Hilton, Christopher Hitchens, Ron Jeremy, Jewel, Andy Kindler, Tom Leykis, Jon Lovitz, George Lucas, Rod Lurie, Bill Maher, Leonard Maltin, Howie Mandel, Joe Mantegna, Andy Milonakis, Eugene Mirman, Patton Oswalt, Rick Overton, Dr. Drew Pinsky, Simon Rex, Paul Rodriguez, Richard Roeper, Rosanne, Eli Roth, Deep Roy, Julian Schnabel, Joel Schumacher, Pauly Shore, Barbra Streisand, David Wain, George Wallace, Mike White, Henry Winkler, Sean Young, Rob Zombie. Many of them are very angry.
I remember seeing a show that was broadcast, but it was primarily intended, I think, as a live performance. It was called The Royal Gala, and it was at Royal Albert Hall in London. This was...about 20-25 years ago. Charles and Diana were in a box (they were still together).
It was, essentially, a variety show. The hosts were John Ritter and (I think) David Frost. The introduced act after act of some of the biggest names in the entertainment business for the edification of the cream of English society.
One performer was Robin Williams, who came out on stage, and just...went...nuts. My personal opinion, I've never seen him more frenetic or funnier. He got down off the stage and started wandering along the aisles. At one point, there were 4 empty seats, front row centre (!). He sat down in one, crossed his legs, put hand to chin and said in a British accent, "Who is he and why does he talk so fast?" Then he was up again and off on some other tangent. Elapsed time about 3.6 seconds...
Anyway, at one point he was going on about what various members of the audience were wearing (one lady wore a silver sheath - "Oh, thank you for wearing that, you can wear that or power a home"). He veered off into some comment about South Africa (this was before the fall of apartheid), and as it happened, the director switched to a camera from behind the stage, looking out into the audience. Right over Robin's left shoulder, there was a lady in the audience, wearing an electric blue blouse and an absolutely huge diamond-looking brooch at her throat. Robin finished his joke, the audience laughed...she did not.
He went after her. "That's a lovely brooch you're wearing tonight. Thank you for wearing that, you can wear that or you can feed Thailand."
Son of the Mask (remember, the names of movies, novels, albums, and several other media are italicized, not placed in quotation marks) was a movie that never should have been made in the first place. First of all, The Mask was a vehicle for Jim Carrey, while Son of the Mask was a sequel to a Jim Carrey vehicle that didn't even feature Jim Carrey. Jim Carrey was the whole point of the movie (which is not to say the movie wasn't good, because it was.) So the sequel, which had no Jim Carrey, really didn't have a point. Second of all, nobody wants to see babies do slapstick.
"Now there are literally thousands...blogging and writing on websites especially." Now he's just whining. "Lots and lots of people can say bad things about me now, and everyone can read what they say! Boo hoo!" In a case like this, snark is almost appropriate.
That was second. Third, yes, people, when they're young, pick up snark as their new toy, think it is automatically funny, use it all the time, and sometimes never grow out of it. And that really is a drag.
But Kennedy, as you describe him, while he might make his point, will primarily make the point that he is a whiner. When you put yourself out there for the public, you had better be ready to take the criticism that comes your way. If you don't like what people are saying, you're either getting your criticism from the wrong audience, or you need to improve. If you don't have talent, get some.
JE: Re your first sentence: Depends on your style guide. Sun-Times style puts movie titles in quotation marks. In fact, our whole RogerEbert.com hyper-linking engine is built on that principle!
Kennedy is apparently in the wrong line of work. So are most of these bums. If they don't want to be criticized, maybe they shouldn't have chosen to express themselves via an art form that is inherently limiting, unfunny, and attractive to people who are cheesy and not clever or funny at all. It's a hack medium. It's the hackflame to the hackmoths. I'm not going to see this lame documentary (I'm tired of docs about the horrors of being a comic - and I can only think of two, including this...), but if he was honest, I bet those people he tried to make 'justify' their pans of him and his horrible movie DID in fact justify them, line by line. Because it's hard to fail to justify a negative line about Son of the Mask, or the comedy stylings of Jamie Kennedy.
Shoot, there I go heckling him. Forgive me, Jamie. I know you only wanted to make us laugh!
I found a strange absence of a sense of the quality of the film from this review. Is that an attempt to not be labeled a "Heckler"? It's strange that reading through this, however, I immediately did conceive an image of the film in my mind as being not all that great. Maybe it was the mention of it being 80 minutes or the fact that Rob Zombie was in it. Maybe it's that the description reminded me of The Aristocrats which was not my cup of tea. I love well done profanity but that film, at least, seemed to not understand how to tell a joke as it just kept jumping around endlessly. Perhaps an attempt to make it seem like a real documentary instead of what it was. In any event, I can't understand the logic behind taking the emphasis from Hecklers to critics. If you had a documentary exclusively about Hecklers it seems like it would be a good in-road to get a better sense of what it's like to be a stand-up comedian, to best know the comedian you first know his fears and frustrations as embodied in the drunk who feels the need to add to the act or perhaps masochistically wants to be berated by the comedian. Is there an underground culture of such people? Now that would be an interesting documentary! I would be interested in seeing this film, however. Probably to just yell insults at the screen, by myself, cloaked in unquestionable anonymity. Reading off some of the names listed for the interviews I'm already constructing what they could say based on what I already know about them. Eli Roth, for example, is probably upset about the reception that Hostel 2 got. But as that film is honestly awful, a poor continuation, a needless homage to Italian horror cinema (what is it with horror directors endlessly making blatant reference to other films? It's like they aren't filmmakers but fanboys who urn to recreate what it may have been like to make the films they love. Be your own filmmaker and steal from others subconsciously like decent people do!) And no Carlos Mencia? Not that the man should ever be seen by humans again but come on, how interesting would it be? Would he even be conscious of criticism? Is that how untalented people get jobs? They have no taste and are so completely blind and success obsessed that criticism has no effect on them? Does this film address those questions? Dammit, now I actually want to see this movie.
JE: I wasn't interested in writing a review of the movie, which is why I didn't. This is a blog post about some of the issues the movie raises -- intentionally or otherwise. But you're right: I did intentionally avoid making any value judgments that could be considered "heckling" -- mainly because I don't think they would be very interesting. You know, though, I think Carlos Mencia IS in this thing somewhere...
I caught this the other night and found it very interesting. I was sympathetic and entertained at first but then when the film turned on critics, I thought the whole thing kind of unraveled because the one thing Kennedy leaves out of the arguement between him and the critics is the actual quality of the work being critiqued. He seemed blind to the fact that "Son of Mask" was just not a good film. If I remember correctly, the Richard Roeper segment was the only part of the film where the quality of the movie was addressed at all. And Richard stood his ground on thinking it was a bad film.
A lot of the artists being interviewed had the viewpoint - "If you don't do stand up/make films/etc than you have no right to judge me". This is totally false. If you are putting work out there that an audience has to pay for, then you simply have to take the good AND the bad feedback.
I've seen this playing on Showtime now and then, but never sat down to watch it all -- and yeah, probably because Jamie Kennedy made it, and that instantly dropped it on my eagerness-to-watch scale. But Uwe Boll and Christopher Hitchens in the same movie? That I have to see.
Also, George Carlin on comedians and violent metaphors.
"So it's either me or you. Just like on the freeway!"
We all know people whose egos are so enormously sensitive (or sensitively enormous) that they seem to remember every affront they've ever suffered.
Yeah, they're called Kevin Smith.
Paul: I disagree that all standup comedy is hackwork, unless you were referring to a different line of work. I mean, you might not like, e.g., all of Lenny Bruce, Sarah Silverman, George Carlin, Mitch hedberg, but I think that all have moments of top-flight brilliance as stand-up artists.
Perhaps the "heckler" documentary would be well served by showing the way Michael Richards infamously dealt with heckling--if anything could convince comedians that there is a limit to the appropriate responses to hecklers, that might be it.
It is interesting though, from the other side: I am, I think and am told, a fairly nice person for the most part, though not devoid of snark. I've very rarely had to deal directly with cases in which I've actually hurt someone's feelings, but when I do it is painful for both them and me. And I've certainly been thin-skinned before. I'm not sure exactly what conclusion I'm driving at.
Now I finally know who Jamie Kennedy is. I kept hearing his name mentioned in passing from time to time but with no idea who he actually was. I had some vague idea that he was a host on MTV and, no, I'm not confusing with the lovely Kennedy.
Going through his filmography, I realize I have only seen three of the movies he's ever been in and can't place him in any of them. I mention this only to wonder about another point: Would he prefer that people not be aware of him at all, or would he prefer that they have bad things to say about his work?
I don't know the answer. I ask it because it appears that some degree of narcissism is at play and I don't mean that pejoratively.
Criticism is a strange thing. You encounter a work of art/a performance, etc. that someone else has produced, and then write an essay analyzing it and/or your reaction to it. I always tread lightly because I feel like I'm playing in someone else's backyard. But by placing this work for public consumption, the artist has, in effect, invited you into that backyard.
To me, that means you should observe some rules of decorum and snarky personal attacks violate that sense of decorum... unless your host is a total boor. Then the gloves are off.
I always hated the snarkiness of John Simon's mysteriously "respected" criticism. He took great pleasure in dismantling not just a film but the people who made it, and he seemed to feel it was fair game to talk about how ugly he thought the various actresses were too.
Simon felt safe sniping from his turret hidden well behind newspaper lines, and today a lot of wanna-bes and fanboys flex their virtual muscles with the courage imbued them by the anonymity of the computer screen. Regarding them, I say "Go get 'em, Mr. Kennedy."
As strange as criticism is, however, it's equally strange to be so concerned with what strangers are saying about you. I'm sure you feel vulnerable when you go out in public and share the best you have to offer - when it is deemed insufficient, it must sting. But do you _really_ care that much about what people you don't even know have to say about you? When it gets mean and personal, sure, I understand and if that's Kennedy is referring to specifically here, I understand. When John Simon wrote particularly cruelly about the ways in which Carol Kane's face displeased him, I think her boyfriend or brother or mom or whoever should have punched the undoubtedly dead-sexy critic right in the labonza.
I can also understand losing patience with negative reviews from sub-literates who idea of bolstering an argument is to add extra emoticons. But isn't it easier to just ignore the poor dumb bastards?
As for well-argued negative criticism, well, you might not like it, but what's to get upset about? Somebody you don't know has a strong opinion you don't agree with and it's about you. That's life. I'm sure it's not fun, but what do you expect when you enter the public arena?
I think Uwe Boll's response to his most vocal critics was both appropriate and constructive. If Mr. Kennedy does anything like this, maybe I'll watch his movie. Or any movie that he's in.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=swg4SshYx2E
JE: I had/have no opinion about Kennedy's talents or skills because I'd never seen him in action until I watched "Heckler." Or, at least, that's what I thought. I looked up his filmog and it turns out he had roles in "Scream," "Clockwatchers," "Bowfinger," "Three Kings" and some others. IMDb says he was Street Hustler in "As Good as It Gets." I watched a few sketches from his TV show, "The Jamie Kennedy Experiment," on YouTube -- but hidden camera shows are really not my thing.
As for John Simon, yeah, he was just a lowbrow insult comic in a glossy magazine. It's certainly fair to talk about, say, an actor's face -- that's essential to the performer's work -- but not like Simon was notorious for doing. Whatever happened to him?
This also reminded me of Roger Ebert's own entry on snarking. Criticism is concerned with the analysis of artwork (and it's a simple truth that not all artworks are created equal, and don't all require the same amount and intensity of critical analysis). Snarking, as Ebert wrote, is more about "[punishing] human spontaneity, eccentricity, non-conformity and simple error."
The difference between valuable, witty criticism and cruel, hatchet-work snarking is the same as that between brilliant, searing stand-up and cheap, hacky jokes: good taste and judgment. Good taste and judgment is where Jake Kasdan's and Judd Apatow's "Walk Hard" separated itself from every "[Insert Genre Here] Movie." It's where the battle's won or lost, and unfortunately, it seems to be one those things where you either have it, or you don't.
JE: Slightly off-topic: I tried to watch "Cadillac Records" because I'm a huge Chess Records fan, but "Walk Hard" made it nearly impossible to stomach because every one of its plentiful cliches had been exposed and thoroughly demolished by the parody. It still had some fun stuff (and Jeffrey Wright is terrific in just about anything), but "Walk Hard" was so dead-on it renders these formula musical biopics irrelevant.
"...and today a lot of wanna-bes and fanboys flex their virtual muscles with the courage imbued them by the anonymity of the computer screen."
Why do people whine about the "anonymity" of some critics? Just because they aren't established critics and you can't pin down their exact identities, their opinions are suddenly worthless? Just because they use pseudonyms they're cowards?
My name is Raymond Ogilvie, I am known on IMDB as happyreflex, and my review of The Corpse Bride is as good as any.
Just because anyone on the internet can voice an opinion doesn't mean that most opinions will be ill-informed and uneducated. Same with Wikipedia, which people also seem to whine about: just because anyone can edit it doesn't mean that uneducated people will write the articles.
JE: Also, where does the "anonymous" writing appear, how many people see it, and how much stock does anyone put in it? It's one thing to post a user review on IMDb or Amazon -- there's a context that explains what those reviews are, and (like anything else) they can be judged by the quality of the thought and writing they display. But if somebody is publishing an anonymous Blogger blog, how many people are even going to see it?
Paul: I disagree that all standup comedy is hackwork, unless you were referring to a different line of work. I mean, you might not like, e.g., all of Lenny Bruce, Sarah Silverman, George Carlin, Mitch hedberg, but I think that all have moments of top-flight brilliance as stand-up artists.
My honest opinion is that the best stand-up comedy there's ever been was hackwork just as the worst was hackwork. The funniest stuff is always the anti-comedy, because those guys at least make fun of the other guys and of the format itself. But the rest, I dunno. For lack of a better word, standup comedy is a bourgeois art form. It's for people who are not really that smart - the 'best' is for people who are not really that smart, but who think they're smart - and those are the ones that praise Bill Hicks, Lenny Bruce, Carlin, as if they're great cultural critics and wise and insightful men - which they really were not. Those three in particular, by taking themselves so seriously, were actually not even funny in the usual mean way one expects a good standup to be funny. They failed at everything, then.
The best example of what I'm talking about is a guy like Norm MacDonald. Now Norm as a stand-up is just not that funny. And he's a good stand up comic, he was a success at that. But you get him on a talk show just talking, in conversation or telling a story, interacting, being spontaneous, and he's one of the funniest people I've ever seen. Conversation, and spontaneous stuff, are where someone really proves how funny he is, and how quick he is. And here I have to say, most stand-up comics are just not very funny. Marlon Brando, Lee Marvin, any of these people, they're funnier by far than the best standups. A guy Ebert's now on about, Mike Tyson, is funnier than any stand up comic. Intentionally more funny.
What stand-up comedy is like is - I don't know if you're a sports fan or not, but the biggest sports site on the web is Deadspin. And it's a bunch of lawyers and professionals in their twenties posting endless sarcastic or otherwise 'humorous' responses to stupid sports stories. And it's the lamest thing you've ever seen, because in principle it's all just stand-up material. It's terrible. But it's probably good for what it is. So what it is must be terrible.
Humor, I've found (and people hate to hear this, but whatever) isn't democratic at all. To really be funny, you've got to be the smartest guy in the room. By a lot. And have a lot of other characteristics besides. It's a rare event. And few stand up comics are the kind of smart it takes. But then again, they're only ever playing to more or less bourgeois audiences, so maybe it's fine.
PS
Of the people you named, Sarah Silverman is the funniest just talking. Her schtick is less good, but she's one of the naturally funny people.
I've seen only about a third of Heckler. It looked interesting, even if the heckler/critic analogy doesn't quite work. I've enjoyed some of Kennedy's "candid camera" stuff (a cousin of mine was actually a target in one of his sketches) and his film "Malibu's Most Wanted" is a guilty pleasure of mine.
Jim, I greatly enjoyed "Cadillac Records." I did think of "Walk Hard," of course, but writer-director Darnell Martin sidesteps some of the more egregious aspects of the formula by spreading the wealth -- though Chess Records co-founder Leonard Chess is the fulcrum of the story, the film is more like a biopic of a label or a movement or an era than a man. That creates a different set of problems, such as an episodic structure that suggests an epic whittled down to a series of compelling anecdotes. But it's not enough to dampen my enthusiasm for the film. Since the backdrop is the birth of electric blues and Rock 'n' Roll, Martin's gift for capturing sensuality onscreen is a real coup. It oozes from the music and the people who make it. Those people are portrayed by one of the strongest ensemble casts I've seen in a while (even Beyonce is great). There are undoubtedly countless errors, elisions, compressions, distortions, exaggerations and outright lies perpetrated in the name of dramatic license (by all accounts, there was no romance between Chess and James), but there's always been something mythic about this music anyway, as has been reflected in the high-flown rhetoric of innumerable rock critics. A few bum notes don't mean a thing if the groove feels right.
As for John Simon, what's regrettable about him is that he could be so illuminating when he really liked something (and yes, he did like some films), but what he's best known for, to the extent that he's known, is insulting the physical shortcomings of actors. He considered them fair game since they put their faces and bodies out there, but he just came off as mean-spirited. Still, if you've ever seen his reviews of, say, The Dreamlife of Angels or the original Japanese version of Shall We Dance?, you know he could be worth reading.
You may have a point.
My favourite stand-up comedian is actually Mitch Hedberg, and I wouldn't remotely describe his material as being serious, or insightful in a traditional way; certainly his best material is a form of anti-comedy, like Seinfeld's deliberate "act about nothing" without the smugness or the "what's the deal with...?" redundancy. His act is (well, was) essentially performance art, where he delivers mostly (yes) hacky one-liner jokes with a precise mixture of self-amusement and self-depracation that seems to anticipate and/or diffuse the audience's eye-roll reactions with perfect timing. Some of it's the editing, I'll acknowledge. And then other times he goes on shaggy dog flights of fancy that defy conventional logic so boldly, while maintaining an internal consistency (a four minute comparison between frogs and bears), that his entire act becomes a demonstration of a point of view of one particular character--yes, himself, but....
And yes, I agree that humour is largely undemocratic, although simply being the smartest person in the room doesn't guarantee being the funniest--smart people can be remarkably unobservant and incapable of communication, just like everyone. I'd say that intelligence is a necessary but not sufficient condition for being very funny.
Why do people whine about the "anonymity" of some critics? Just because they aren't established critics and you can't pin down their exact identities, their opinions are suddenly worthless? Just because they use pseudonyms they're cowards?
My name is Raymond Ogilvie, I am known on IMDB as happyreflex, and my review of The Corpse Bride is as good as any.
Anonymous art and anonymous criticism are both potentially great, but the thing is, especially w/ anonymous criticism, it had better be really, really good criticism. Like really responsible and thoughtful. Because you're criticizing art that, whatever its intentions or its quality, required, at bare minimum, a lot of work, and a lot of work by people whose names and images are on the thing and who, regardless how much they were paid for the film, are putting themselves way out there by appearing in it and having it exist forever to be seen by millions of people. If you're going to criticize using an alias, you must be more responsible, because really, you're one step removed from any criticism your alias gets, it's there to protect you, even if the artists you criticize have a way to get in touch with you.
And Jim, with the rise of the web there are plenty of critics who use aliases, and get their reviews linked to by IMDb. It's not just AICN morons anymore. This is more the case in websites dealing specifically with genre films.
Also, Ray, I haven't read your review of The Corpse Bride, but unless it's like, your best review ever, the review where everything fell into place for Ray Ogilvie, it's probably NOT just as good as anyone's.
Question for Jim: Do you automatically not post anything with profanity. I had a post on here disappear and I did use the f-bomb in it (just as an illustrative example, I swear.) I was wondering if that meant automatic rejection - if so, I'll know to avoid it in the future.
Raymond,
I did not intend my comments as anti-blogger. I'm an internet critic myself (though I do review under my real name) and I understand how irritating it can be to have to defend the legitimacy of your work.
I am talking about mainly about people in chat rooms or who post on threads (though this applies to some bloggers as well) and feel free to unload all their venom on whatever filmmaker or actor they're targeting. I doubt they would be so vicious and personal in person, or if they actually had to be held accountable for their words. Manohla Dargis wouldn't last too long if she called Uwe Boll some of the names that his 'net hecklers have called him on a daily basis. Though I should note that one of my favorite Dargis reviews is her vicious takedown of Gaspar Noe for the loathsome "Irreversible" (it's worth looking up.)
"Avatar muscles" are just as real as "beer muscles." It's only the anonymity that gives these internet warriors the courage (for lack of a better term) to be so nasty.
JE: The Sun-Times has a language filter on all its blogs, so anything with profanity just gets sucked into the spam filter and I don't even see it unless somebody calls my attention to it. Then I can usually go in and retrieve it. Just let me know and I can do that -- unless this comment is a substitute for the naughty one.
Although I won't try to defend the vast majority of Jamie Kennedy's output (I did like his work in the "Scream" movies however), he does have a point about the proliferation of mean-spirited heckling masquerading as legitimate criticism in recent years.
I love MST3K as much as the next person, but is it really a good thing that we now have a generation that takes being cynical, irreverent a**holes as a point of honor? I mean, is the industry of movie criticism better served by the Harry Knowles' of the world instead of the Pauline Kaels?
I'm not asking for critics to have kid gloves when it comes to reviewing a bad performance, I sure know the fun of attacking a bad movie, but a review should have a better raison d'être then just an excuse to shout four-letter words at the guilty parties.
*being cynical, irreverent a**holes as a point of honor? I mean, is the industry of movie criticism better served by the Harry Knowles' of the world instead of the Pauline Kaels?*
Wait, which of those _isn't_ the cynical a-hole?
(Sorry, couldn't resist)
Honestly, what did Jamie Kennedy expect when he starred in "Son of the Mask"? Do we really need to suffer through this diatribe of him confronting his critics in an attempt to justify his lack of foresight?
He sounds like Les Dennis' version of himself on the British sitcom 'Extras'. After a (real-life) embarrassing stay on Celebrity Big Brother and a public divorce he breaks down and moans constantly about the days when the public used to love him. Ricky Gervais' character wisely remarks that perhaps the problem is that while Les calls himself a comedian, he never actually makes any jokes. Instead he uses every media outlet to complain about being misunderstood. It seems like Jamie Kennedy is the real-life embodiment of Les' onscreen persona; a truly unfunny comedian with a contrived sense of humor at best.
Wow, you guys are missing one of the biggest points of the movie. I'm especially disappointed in Mr. Emerson not addressing this issue.
Bill Maher perhaps said it best in the movie-you can't be a good comic or artist without being sensitive. You can't be thick skinned to your audiences. Good comics are sensitive, even if they're abrasive like Maher or Carlin. They want to stand up in front of people and entertain them. That takes not only sensitivity, but being vulnerable.
I think you guys missed that entirely, particularly Mr. Emerson. In fact, your column as a whole strikes me as unperceptive about the actual content of the movie. It doesn't present itself as merely being right. Once in a while it comments on its own correctness over others (like the captions explaining how the term "rape baby" isn't original), but for the most part it merely gives insight into the world of comedians and filmmakers.
The funny thing is, I think several of the filmmakers in it are bad filmmakers. I can't stand the Scary Movie movies. They showed a filmmaker who Jamie Kennedy worked with and a clip from his movie that looked awful, and they pulled a quote that said it was horribly shot and was very murky-it was. As an independent filmmaker myself, I wanted to tell the director that as well.
But right or wrong is almost besides the point. What they're saying was it's the cruelty that's uncalled for. Heckler came out and then everyone could continue to have their say, but the point of the movie wasn't to silence people. For me, it did exactly what it was supposed to. It gave insight into a point of view and a way of life.
As an independent filmmaker and sometimes comedian, I get depressed at comments I get too, mostly from my own friends. What bothers me, and what bothers the comedians in the film, is that while they have fans and get crowds laughing, it hurts them that some people are so ignorant that when they criticize them, they say implicitly or explicitly that x comedian should stop, that he's a failure, and that if only x comedian listened to this particular critic, then he would be good.
But it's more stubbornly ignorant than that. What these heckler/critics say isn't just "Listen to me." They say "Listen to me," under the pretense of "Listen to what people want."
It's frustrating and hurtful to hear that because as an artist, you (or I) know that the person is giving a disingenous argument.
I have a friend who, when I invited him to see my stand up act, asked, "So, are you going to do something that people think is funny, or just you think is funny?"
This was at the end of a fairly rough week for me as far as negative reaction goes already-not even about the quality of my work, but with ignorant comments about me personally from people I knew. I went off on a rant, demanding if he actually meant I be funny to everyone, or just to him, since people do like my work and I get good feedback. His ignorance at his own comment made me angry-here he is, some computer network employee who doesn't even care for my favorite comedians and films, and who demands that entertainment be catered to his specific background, making me answer for what I think is funny.
That's what I thought Heckler was about. As a filmmaker, it can make me more sad to watch Heckler than anything because you see the pain in these comedians' eyes when they talk about their worst critics.
And perhaps worst than that, your review just makes fun of them for it as not being able to take the heat. It's that very lack of sensitivity, that lack of perception when dealing with another person, that can be so hurtful. It's like you failed to accept the movie on its own terms, Mr. Emerson, as a glimpse of insight into the world of comedians.
You mock Jamie Kennedy, but it's not just him in the movie. David Cross, Bill Maher, and many other good comedians talk about how hurtful uncalled for negative feedback can be.
Another funny thing is I do think that the movie's negative view of critics goes too far against critics. Son of the Mask *is* an awful movie. But it's beside the point. The movie gets right how hurtful it is to make a bad movie. Kennedy's reactions to someone like Richard Roeper's perfectly reasonable objections may be unjustified, but what does it matter? He feels it. He tries to entertain others and puts himself on display for millions of people, and it hurts to fall in that position. And it seems like hardly any of the commenters or Mr. Emerson get that.
Yet people like myself and other filmmakers are held to constant scrutiny, and it hurts. It doesn't mean it's even uncalled for or unexpected. But there's insight to be had in Heckler, and you missed it, Mr. Emerson.
I was surprised at how much I liked this movie. And while I think it's pretty obvious where the film-makers sympathies lie, the movie did strike me as genuine investigation of a subject (as opposed to a "Super-Size Me"-type hatchet job). The hecklers even get to win a few of their confrontations with Mr. Kennedy. If the movie never really comes to a satisfying conclusion, that's probably because in real life there isn't one.
This was a well-written piece, but it's awfully easy to imply that entertainers should just get over it..even though the only human beings who are immune to criticism are self-absorbed jerks and sociopaths...and, I wonder, how can a critic who views performers as the psychological equivalent of crack addicts write about what they do with any degree of respect or insight?
JE: My explicit point is that it's pointless to tell performers to "get over it." To do so implies a misunderstanding of human nature. And to acknowledge the power of laughter and applause for performers isn't a value judgment, it's just a biological and psychological reality. That's how our brains work.