What does Variety -- once known as "The Showbiz Bible" -- think it has to offer its readers? After Monday's news that the paper has jettisoned (what's the reverse of "ankled"? I forget...) veteran film critic Todd McCarthy, whose name was synonymous with Variety even before the publication's reviews had actual bylines, I don't see much future in the once-essential trade paper. Lay off the people who are your reputation, your authority, your influence, and what's left? Nothing. There will still be a batch of web and paper pages legally entitled to call itself "Variety," but so what? It's like one of those bands that tours under a once-famous name without actually offering the work of any of the names that made it what it was.
How much is that worth to you right now?
Sure, Variety can regress to the days when its reviewers were unknown (and this isn't to knock the many stringers who cover screenings and events all over the world), but now that anyone with press credentials can write about these things instantly on the web, what's so special about Variety's coverage? Again: Nothing.
Of course this is a cost-cutting measure -- made, incredibly, just as the web site is planning to put most of its content behind a fee wall. So they're asking people to pay for... what? A byline isn't just some random name. Decades of experience and expertise stand behind the name "Todd McCarthy." Anybody can write as "Martha Thoddycc" (hey-- it's the same letters as "Todd McCarthy") but they're not going to raise the same expectations, or be able to deliver the same thing.
As former Variety columnist and blogger Anne Thompson wrote ("Variety Cuts Its Life's Bood: Critics McCarthy and Rooney"):
Variety can't afford them, as they couldn't afford me or editors Michael Speier and Kathy Lyford. But I was a relative newbie, a columnist/blogger. I was a luxury. Problem is, I was well-paid, as were McCarthy and Rooney. Nonetheless, they are necessities. Without them, Variety is doomed.
Variety was once a major-league franchise, but no longer. It is re-positioning itself as a farm team, staffed -- or, I'm sorry, freelanced -- by talented or not-so-talented unknown up-and-comers who will leave or be let go once they weigh too heavily on the bottom line. These writers may go on to careers in the major leagues, but Variety itself is determined to stay put in the minors.
I was one of many who re-tweeted this ignorant, myopic internal memo to the Editorial Staff from editor Tim M. Gray, in which he states: "Today's changes won't be noticed by readers." If that's true, then "New, No-Name-O Brand" Variety deserves all the readers it can hang onto.
Gray continues:
We are not changing our review policy. Last year we ran more than 1,200 film reviews. No other news outlet comes even close, and we will continue to be the leader in numbers and quality. It doesn't make economic sense to have full-time reviewers, but Todd, Derek and Rooney have been asked to continue as freelancers.
That's right. We've seen this happen all over the place, from John Hartl at the Seattle Times to David Ansen at Newsweek: "C'mon, guys, your reputations aren't worth salaries. Let us appropriate 'em for freelance rates." What's the "value add" (ahem) of a name, a reputation, expertise? The problem isn't just a matter of costs versus revenues, it's that these companies don't know how to (aggh! choke!) monetize their assets. They don't even know an asset when they're sitting on one.
All such publications deserve to go to hell.
ADDENDUM: I don't think the issue here is (again) about the "death of film criticism" or anything like that. This story raises questions about the value of trade papers (and, specifically, consumer-report reviewing aimed at those inside the industry -- exhibitors, distributors, marketers -- rather than the "end-user"). And, of course, it reflects the truth of what's happening in all businesses in an economy based on freelancers rather than salaried staff. The concept of "brand loyalty" no longer exists, for consumers or for employees; there are only short-term financial expediencies. All workers are disposable temps. Except, of course, for the irreplaceable geniuses in the executive suites.
UPDATE: 03/08/10 (11:30 pm, PST): Another angle: " RIP Variety." by David Poland:
The only reason anyone pays much attention to Variety, critically, is not because Todd is the greatest critic in the world... but because studios, steeped in The Past, have continued to allow Variety to act as though they have a unique position in the industry and to review first. That has drawn much of the traffic they have had. And Variety - and Todd McCarthy - have held onto that long antiquated idea of how to handle review embargoes closely to their hearts. It has been their lifeblood, however absurd on its face, as "the trades" have been published on the newswires and as consumer content on the search engines for years.
So how, having fired McCarthy, slashing the number of reviews in the paper and online, and going all-freelance with reviews, how could any studio continue to allow Variety to own a space that it does not earn and for which it now shows clear contempt?
In other words... it's over.
Variety will not go out of business. But it will be a brand, eventually sold off, still trying to figure out how to balance print and online in a way that gives the title any distinction at all in the marketplace. Same with The Hollywood Reporter. As such, the title may someday disappear completely. We'll see.
Later; Poland on The Memo:
Today's changes won't be noticed by readers.
Wrong. People who read Variety tend to really know the landscape of Variety. When a little-used critic reviews a big movie, we all notice the byline. They underestimate the intelligence and knowledge of a crowd of insiders.
We are not changing our review policy.
You are just making it harder for even one critic who works for the self-proclaimed largest producer of reviews in the industry to pay for their health insurance and other benefits. You are just assuming - and this is not that new - that the Variety name attached to a review makes it more important. You are wrong. Todd McCarthy was never the only Variety critic that mattered, but a reader's relationship with criticism is a relationship with how a critic thinks. Instead, Variety's policy is now, "best person we can find who is available, hopefully near the festival, and will write a review for $100 - $200."
UPDATE: 3/08/10 11:45pm PST: Roger Ebert: "Variety: This thumb's for you":
He knows everybody. He is known throughout the film world. He was Variety's ambassador at film festivals, always the best-known Variety person there. He stood for Variety. We now discover it did not stand from him. [...]
About Todd McCarthy I am not very worried. He's one of a kind. I can think of no better candidate as the director of a major film festival. Or as a professor, or of course as a film critic. What I lament is the carelessness with which his 31 years of dedication were discarded. Oh, the paper cites its reasons. "It's economic reality," Variety President Neil Stiles said of the move. Some "downsizing" is necessary cost-cutting. Some symbolizes the abandonment of a mission. If Variety no longer requires its chief film critic, it no longer requires me as a reader.

16 Comments
I like McCarthy a great deal and agree that this cost-cutting move is going to do serious harm, if not fatal harm, to Variety. The memo is especially clueless. I do have to take issue tho with: There will still be a batch of web and paper pages legally entitled to call themselves "Variety," but so what? They're like one of those bands that tours under a once-famous name without actually offering the work of any of the names that made them famous.
Eventually this must be the fate of any publication, either a newspaper or a trade paper or a magazine. The New Yorker's reputation was made on the backs of people most of whom have been dead for decades and decades - the last just checked out, but had been gone long before then. The NY Times is still the NY Times, though surely everyone writing for it 50 years ago is dead or retired. In other words, a magazine or a paper is nothing at all like a band. Certainly not in the way you imply. If one is, then it's doomed anyway. These things, if they're really successful, become institutions. If Variety ceases to be Variety, or eventually simply ceases to be, because it fired a film critic, then Variety wasn't much to begin with. It might as well have been McCarthy's blog if that's all it comes down to.
I understand you're mad at a bonehead, cheap decision that hurt film criticism in general and a critic you like (and are probably friends with) in particular. But I think you overstated his importance to Variety - if you didn't overstate it, then you must have overstated Variety's importance. Because Todd McCarthy is one writer.
Yes, I know what you're saying -- and I considered it that way, too. But here's the difference: Todd McCarthy is still alive and productive, but Variety is only willing to use him as a freelancer. Sure, writers retire and move on and people eventually die. (Has anybody been able to replace Army Archerd? Not really.) But what is exclusive, name-brand "content" worth? It's not really just the one writer I'm talking about (although the entropy at Variety had left them with little else); it's the devaluation of voice, experience, reputation, expertise -- things you can't really put a hard price on. Perhaps some would rather think of Variety like one of those reboot seasons of "SNL." But, in this case, you will now also have to pay up-front for the unproven no-name content (once Variety's web operation disappears behind the fee wall again). What's that worth to you?
It's the same kind of thinking that -- even before technology changed so radically -- spelled the downfall of the music business. Once companies felt it was no longer worth their while to invest in their artists, to develop audiences; once loyalty (to an artist, a label) meant nothing more than a freelance contract, what did they have to offer? That's not the way you build career, a reputation, a readership, a "consumer base"... especially when the "consumers" you're trying to reach have so many free or low-cost disposable alternatives available to them. What does "brand loyalty" mean when you can't define the brand?
"They're like one of those bands that tours under a once-famous name without actually offering the work of any of the names that made them famous."
Well put. Variety is now the Mike Love Beach Boys.
Or the Velvet Underground's "Squeeze" album. Etc., etc., etc.
Whatever happened to "What have you done for me lately?"
Ahhhhhhh, your way with language:
"These writers may go on to careers in the major leagues, but Variety itself is determined to stay put in the minors."
THIS IS WHY I READ YOUR BLOG
(Off-topic: What, no Oscar post?)
Am I the only one who thinks that Variety was never that great to begin with, Todd McCarthy is only an average movie criitic, and that the show biz people who actually buy Variety for the news about who's dealing with who and what's in development where don't care at all about the reviews? It seems to me that McCarthy's quality and value as a critic went up tenfold yesterday now that he can be a martyr for newspaper critics.
This story really isn't about mainstream newspapers, though. It's about what has become of the once-powerful entertainment-business trade publications, Variety and the Hollywood Reporter. (David Poland has a good explanation of what once made those early trade reviews -- often appearing long before newspaper critics' reviews -- so important and influential.) By laying off Todd McCarthy, Variety is saying it isn't willing to provide the kind of authority and professionalism formerly associated with the Variety name. Everybody noticed the bylines -- and reviews by third-stringers or freelancers did not carry the same weight as McCarthy's or (in the past) a few others. What Variety is saying is that it isn't going to invest in building a team of staff critics, it's just going to rely on freelancers. That's why I ask: What is that worth to its readers, when random online reviews by unknowns are a dime a dozen? Oh, wait, not even that: They're free!
I spent over 14 years in the entertainment industry. Now, I am part of the not-so-new world of new media. In a strange way, this development is a continuing sign that the internet or, more specifically, users of the internet are democratizing box office results. I remember growing up in the day when everyone in the movie industry feared Vincent Canby's NY Times reviews each Friday, as it could either make or break their career. I don't know that it's such a bad thing that critics don't hold this inordinate amount of power anymore.
I recently wrote about just that, because I don't believe any one critic ever should have had that kind of power, and don't understand why a few did. I don't know how much influence Variety had left anyway, but it will certainly have less without McCarthy's voice and reputation.
As I wrote three years ago -- I can't remember where, maybe in a Scanners comments thread? -- we're fast approaching the point where criticism will be an avocation rather than a profession.
This is reality. It started happening about ten years ago (around the time that my colleague Godfrey Cheshire got axed from New York Press -- he was a canary in the coal mine and didn't know it) and the pace has only accelerated since then. It's not just film critics, or other types of journalists being affected; entire industries are dying and the jobs aren't being replaced.
New jobs may eventually arise to supplant the ones being lost, but they won't be the same jobs, and they very likely won't be writing jobs on staff with benefits, and those of us (I include myself) who don't know any other way to make a living will have to spend time and money learning new skills or else accept a greatly reduced standard of living (maybe both).
The "is this good or bad for film criticism" discussion is quite beside the point, and with the grim facts so vividly established for years now, it's a waste of time. I've done my share of decrying the miserable status quo and mourning for the passing of a particular model for film discourse, and I've also pointed out how that model wasn't all it was cracked up to be (aside from offering writers a chance to make a living, how much really great film criticism -- not consumer guide-type reviewing with occasional witty wisecracks -- did newspapers and magazines produce? I mean, really?) As one of Jim's headlines recently asked, "Oh dear, who's killed film criticism this week?" At a certain point this entire discussion starts to take on the surreal and pathetic flavor of a deleted scene from "Groundhog Day." We wake up in the morning, "I Got You, Babe" is playing on the clock radio, and some evil know-nothings are killing film criticism. And journalism. And the middle class. And education. And reasoned discourse. And everything else. The sun goes down, the sun comes up again, and it's still going on. It's still shocking. It's still depressing. And there's no new information.
The important question isn't "What person or institution or market force is responsible for this?" or (to quote a great lyric from "Chicago") "Jesus Christ, ain't there no decency left?" The important question is, what's are we all going to do about it? I don't mean "we", the theoretical masses with our torches and pitchforks, because let's not kid ourselves, the vast majority of filmgoers can't name a single living film critic except maybe Roger Ebert -- and this isn't the kind of issue that inspires mass action anyway, not with the economy in the latrine and people losing sleep over more basic, immediate concerns (yes, times are indeed tough for film critics; overnight it's gone from being a cushy dream job to being a high risk, low-yield career option, a notch more safe than being a poet). I mean "we" as dedicated individual film watchers and readers of criticism. What's next? What will the future of this thing we love -- cinephilia -- look like? What is the Internet present giving us now, and how could it be made better -- better in terms of content but also better for the people doing the writing, people who really ought to be compensated for their work just like anybody else who's good at what he/she does? Is that even possible anymore? And if it isn't possible, does that mean the remaining die-hards crazy enough to devote their lives to writing about movies -- seriously writing about movies, beyond "It rules!" or "It sucks!" -- aren't to be taken as seriously as the handful of remaining old media staff critics because they're not paying their monthly bills by writing?
I don't know the answers to any of those questions. But I can state with certainty that the profession as I knew it, as several generations of filmmakers and filmgoers knew it, is dead. It's been dead for a while now. A few hardy ghosts haunt the ruins, and they'll fade, too, when the ruins are razed, as they surely will be. This is reality. We don't have to like it, but I think we're at the point where we (and by "we" I mean journalists) need to accept it. I think a lot of us already have accepted it or are getting there, and that's difficult but healthy. The comments thread of this site is heartening because so many people here already seem to accept it (which is not the same thing as liking or approving of it) and are trying to make sense of it and look at what's around them and speculate on what might lie ahead. They might very well get a handle on things before people (like me) who are in the middle of it, because detachment often brings clarity.
My meager advice: offer condolences to those affected by this sea change (if you know them). Do what you can to make sure that others remember whatever glorious or at least diverting past you once enjoyed as a dedicated reader of newspapers and magazines. But don't squander precious energy lamenting that which cannot be controlled. It's a distraction from the tedious but necessary business of living.
And if you know of any good Bloggers with virtual tip jars on their web sites, click on the link and give them a few bucks. Every little bit helps.
Nicely said, Matt. I'd just placed another addendum on the post -- to help clarify what I see as the main issues -- and came back to find your incisive comment. Variety's firing of Todd McCarthy doesn't say much about "the state of film criticism" at all because, although he is a knowledgeable writer, his reviews for Variety were always aimed at professionals inside the business rather than at ticket-buyers or movie fans. That's Variety's subscription base. The question is, as I wrote, what now distinguishes Variety's reviews from anyone else's -- besides their emphasis on box-office prospects? Why would someone subscribe to Variety for a freelancer's take on something, when they can get the same kind of thing for free on the web from any credentialed press person attending a festival anywhere in the world? And, as David Poland wrote, why should studios or other distribs offer advance screenings to trade freelancers -- before other critics who write for the public? This move says a lot about Variety, but not much at all about the state of film criticism -- except that business in general is creating an economy of disposable freelance workers rather than professionals with an investment in any particular company (or companies with an investment in any particular professional).
The economic forces at work are much larger than any particular business or discipline, like film criticism. Like you, I'm more interested in what will become of movies themselves, and whether they'll be anything I will feel like writing or thinking about. I've been incredibly lucky to have been able to support myself in this field for most of 30+ years, but I've also done a lot of other kinds of writing, editing, programming -- and (for three years in the early '00s when I'd just had enough) dog-walking. After experiencing everything I could think of related to movies, from criticism and academic study to exhibition to production to marketing, it came down to asking myself: "What else do I love as much as movies, that I would want to spend my time doing?" Answer: hanging out with dogs.
Thanks, Jim. I'm really distressed with Variety for dumping Todd McCarthy & David Rooney. And as a regular Variety subscriber for the past 15 years, I will not be re-subscribing. There is no reason to pay $$ for a trade paper that is embracing the style and content of an amateur blog.
I agree that certain aspects of the McCarthy case (a lost Hitchcock title!) are unique to the trade press, and that firing McCarthy (and not replacing him with a full time staff critic) dilutes Variety's brand.
However, I'd suggest that if you brush aside the trade press-specific aspects, you're dealing with the same issues that come up when we read that such-and-such, veteran critic for the Big City Times, has been let go. The same question you pose in McCarthy's case -- "Why would someone subscribe to Variety for a freelancer's take on something when they can get the same kind of thing for free on the web..." -- can be posed in pretty much any comparable situation, whether the fired critic writes for Variety, the Los Angeles Times, the Dallas Morning News or the Podunk Dispatch. And the answer in every case would very likely be, "No -- there's no reason to subscribe." Or, "There's no reason to pay money, period, for film criticism -- there's good stuff all over the web, and it's free." And as the years roll on, I bet you'll get the same answer from more and more people whether the paper is Variety or the Thrifty Nickel, and whether the content is being generated by freelancers or staffers, greenhorns or veterans.
This is a pretty touchy subject, but I might as well bring it up: a lot of the hostility and defensiveness about the decline of mainstream (paid) media and the rise of Internet-based free media isn't about economic models or expertise or "professionalism" or anything of the sort. It's about the fact that the vast majority of print criticism is totally disposable and forgettable, and always has been -- and if you put mainstream media film critics up against serious, dedicated film bloggers -- real film buffs, not the Harry Knowles-types that Richard Schickel and company cite as straw man targets -- the quality batting average is very likely to be better if you stick with the bloggers.
No, not every line is going to be earthshakingly insightful, but speaking as somebody who reads a lot of material from both worlds, I find that I'm more likely to stumble across an original thought on a decent film blog than in all but a handful of magazine or newspaper film sections. That's not because mainstream media critics aren't smart. It's because the format of the publication imposes particular restrictions -- don't write about form because The Readers Find it Boring; don't say anything too controversial; don't go off on tangents; don't leave the reader wondering if you liked it; don't do anything that might offend advertisers or subscribers, etc. -- and those constraints strangle the critic's imagination before it has a chance to give birth to a halfway provocative thought.
A side note: a lot of the coverage of McCarthy's firing hasn't gotten deeply into the issue of lead time. Variety (and The Hollywood Reporter) used to be uniquely valuable, and powerful, because they reviewed movies long in advance of everyone else. Often they were the first publications to review a movie, a play, a TV series, you name it. The web has destroyed that pecking order. By the time Variety officially reviews something, often it has already been picked over by one or two dozen bloggers, many of them every bit as astute as whoever Variety assigned to review the movie, TV series, whatever. You kind of got into this glancingly, Jim, but I'd be curious to hear you expand on it: what does Variety or The Hollywood Reporter offer to subscribers that they simply can't get anywhere else?
Aside from in-the-trenches reporting about who's hired and fired from this studio or that agency, I'm having a hard time coming up with anything. The reviews, the state-of-the-industry thinkpieces, the advertiser-ass-kissing special sections, the sassy industry insider columns, are all being done elsewhere on the Internet, often with as much authority, and more personality, than Variety's or The Hollywood Reporter's version.
Your line about creating a culture of "disposable freelance workers" is the crux of everything, not just w/r/t film criticism, but work in general. In the future, everybody will have a McJob. Except for supervisors. Supervisors always get benefits.
I used to say that if you every published an anthology of your writing, it should be titled "Sarcastica." I've changed my mind. You should call it "Hanging Out With Dogs."
You're right, Matt -- you and I and others have covered this territory many times in the last few years -- at The House and here. Glad you reminded me, because I do think it's something that needs to be brought up as often as possible, that most newspaper (and magazine) positions for professional staff critics have always been filled by mediocre reviewers or worse. Alcoholic sports writers with union cards and no place else to go (Schickel was right about that much); general assignment reporters who don't know much of anything about movies or film history but who've always really like movies, from "Top Gun" to "Driving Miss Daisy." I mean, I've read stuff in major metropolitan dailies and weeklies and monthlies that is as every bit as ignorant, ineptly written and amateurish as anything you'll find on the web -- just more professionally copy-edited. The thing is, editors and publishers (and readers) used to feel it was important to the publication's local identity to have a unique, "hometown" voice covering local events of cultural significance, and that included the local openings of new movies. Now, it's not such a priority. Arts and culture reporting and criticism in general is not given much play outside of company towns like NY and LA. Celebrity gossip and newswire items are about as deep as it goes.
As for the entertainment industry trades, I think they're dinosaurs and I'm surprised they've lasted this long. But old traditions die hard, and studios continued to give the trades priority screenings. As David Poland wrote, what justification do they have to continue? Do Variety and THR really have much of significance to report to an industry audience that they can't get for free on the web -- or the Calendar section of the LA Times or the business section of the NYT? I sure don't think so.
I do take issue with one thing you said, though: I don't think supervisors will get salaries or benefits, either. Only top-level executives with stock options, accountable to no one but other stockholders. Because they have it written into their contracts -- plus huge bonuses when they leave. The reason we're going to a freelance economy is that the people who own companies are interested only in maximizing short-term profits. Who cares if they bust the company in the process? They can just pull out and re-invest in something else. Perhaps the entertainment business has pointed the way, with the new model being old Kirk Kerkorian, the man who made fortunes buying and selling and re-buying and re-selling bits and pieces of MGM for decades, until there was nothing left.
As an exhibitor/booker for 25 years, I always looked to Variety as the most objective movie review source.
If they (Todd McCarthy et al) liked a movie it was usually good and if they panned it you could take it to the bank.
Sadly, not the case any more.
Peter Bart is still great.
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