The last few weeks have seen a good bit of really sharp commentary on film criticism, both from bloggers and their more established counterparts. Cinema academic (cinemademic?) David Bordwell kicked things off with his short Cinema Scope essay on the state of film criticism. In the essay, he channels Antonin Artaud and makes a big bold claim that he then follows with a bunch of inexplicable--and quite possibly wrong--angry mumbo-jumbo.
His essay pronounces in no uncertain terms that “film criticism is failing,” and he calls for a criticism more about "ideas" and "facts" than “jaunty wordplay and throwaway judgements.” Asian-cinema loving film blogger extraordinaire Filmbrain responded with some sympathy for Bordwell’s essay, finding too many film writers in both the established media and the blogosphere who’ve taken to the short on content, long on stylish verbal posing approach. But, he correctly points out, Bordwell is far too brief in his discussion, falling back on many of the same unsupported judgments and nonspecific personal opinions he claims to detest.
As someone who occasionally dabbles in something that I hope resembles “jaunty wordplay,” I’ll put in a word for its defense: writing that sparkles on the page ought not to be demonized. The best of David Edelstein, David Denby, and, of course, Kael, ought to lay that myth to rest. The problem comes when, instead of aiding thoughtful analysis, slick rhetoric replaces it. And if Bordwell and others are concerned that film criticism is losing its mass relevance (a debatable claim), stripping it of its breezy language won’t cure that: Even the best academic criticism can be somewhat tedious, and the general public is likely to dismiss it even more than the current stuff.
The concerns of the critic-reading public are even more of an issue in Laura Miller’s Salon review of a massive new anthology of film criticism by Phillip Lopate. Miller’s article is a fantastic read—certainly much better than the curmudgeonly drivel put out by Bordwell—but she’s aided by having what looks to be great material to work with. There is much to like in the article, but especially notable is her opening segment on the perils of being a film writer. Here's a snippet:
Of course, for indiscriminate journalists -- the sorts of writers who have filled the post of movie reviewer at a lot of American newspapers and some American magazines for decades -- the preponderance of dull, average movies isn't a problem. They can't tell much difference between "Wedding Crashers" and "Failure to Launch" to begin with and are happy to be dazzled by the stars. But good reviewers, remember, must also be good writers, and good writers want subjects that fire them up. The kind of person who sees, say, "Ultraviolet," then goes home, looks up a review online, marvels at the critic's vitriol and fires off an e-mail saying, "Chill out, dude, it's just a movie. It was fun," is not someone whose opinions anyone wants to read at length, on a regular basis -- or ever, really. (And, confidentially, if you are the kind of person who sends those e-mails: What gives? If you don't think certain movies should be taken so seriously, why even bother to read the reviews?)
There are two things to look at here. The first is that Miller, now safely ensconced in her lit-crit bubble, gets to land a solid jab in favor of critics harangued by readers urging them to stop being such high-falutin’ pretentious wankers (these critics’ lot is surely exacerbated by the existence of email). Sure, her line is a little bit snooty, but then, criticism and snootiness have always been joined at the sneer.
She also makes an important distinction between journalists, many of whom are excellent reporters and writers, and film critics. Though there are certainly a few folks who can excel at both reporting and criticism, there’s a fundamental difference between a reporter who’s trained to gather, parse and deliver relevant, ostensibly unbiased information, and a film critic, who is the pop literary decoder of our times. This is not to say that one is more important, better or more difficult, but simply that critical essays and reported journalism are vastly different creatures, and the unfortunate idea that they are interchangeable often puts very good reporters (or occasionally very good critics) in jobs for which they aren’t terribly suited.
Chuck Tryon’s response to Miller’s article is also worth a read, especially his point about Miller’s worry that the post Pauline Kael critical scene, which places an extremely high value on the gut-level pop entertainment value of a film, might promote “a cinematic culture in which trash is all anyone wants to make or see.” Chuck responds by pointing out that even if many mainstream critics are merely fools for pretty stars and popcorn, the blog format has been useful in creating new forums and communities for film enthusiasts of all stripes:
I don't think [Miller’s statement is] a terribly fair argument in that it underplays the economic and institutional factors that have shaped cinema over the last few decades. While I don't want to deny that critics can shape how movie makers understand their craft, the decline in audiences for art house and foreign films (a decline I'm not sure exists) can hardly be ascribed to the embrace of so-called trash. Even if audiences aren't seeing these films in art house and repertory theaters in the same numbers as in the past, other audiences are finding many of these films on DVD and on cable TV (via channels such as Turner Classic Movies and AMC).
These comments are not meant to "bury the dead" of the earlier film culture, which thrived on the public screenings and local film cultures identified with rep houses, but to suggest that other film cultures may be forming. I know that I've already pointed to some of the film blogs that I enjoy. [I] believe that the blog format enables film criticism to do different things that writing articles for newspapers or magazines may not permit. Writing in the blog, I have few obligations to review films that don't excite me, allowing me to promote films that I believe deserve a wider audience. But the blog genre also allows me to constantly track back, to rethink and restate why I like or dislike a certain film or filmmaker. It allows me to think about how my tastes have changed and evolved as I've continued to write in the blog.
I’ll second Chuck’s point about blogs creating a space for more personal film discussion. The net is positively blooming with fascinating writing on movies (as well as writing about writing about movies), whether it’s from the personal outlets of professional critics, film profs, conservative magazine editors, or unaffiliated film fans.
Just as important is that the net is creating space for established publications to run film articles that never would have made the cut in a print-only world. Political journals like National Review and American Spectator, both of which have been kind enough to publish my writing, don’t have to worry about page limits on the web. Web-only outlets like Slate and especially Salon give their critics massive amounts of space to write the sort of lengthy reviews that never would’ve made it to press without severe chopping. And with these publications working on a daily schedule, the number of articles (which can exceed 30 in a week), is far less of a factor. This has created more opportunity for interested (and interesting) writers to publish film criticism under the auspices of respected publications, giving an audience to a far wider range of voices than the print world ever could’ve supported. There's no question that the nature of criticism is changing, and after a century of argument and analysis, that's too be expected. But to say, as Bordwell does, that it has "failed," is clearly wrong.
