Memo, Nov 15 2003

TO: CSB
FROM: JDB
RE: Let's criticize the critics!

Somebody wrote of these memos once, "I'm a little worried that these rants of his are going to type-A him into an early grave."

To which I say WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!!?!! TYPE A?! WHAT THE FUCK!

I guess you're right. I do feel a bit down sometimes. Like today I was at the grocery store buying some Cheer (for my laundry) and some Joy (for my dishes). I couldn't remember when I'd been more depressed.

My friend Steph said to me once, when her eyes were glazing over while I spoke of my hopes: "Listen, Jack, you make your movies and they're important to you, I know. But it's not like you're saving lives or anything."

And she's right, not saving lives. Here I am with this method of mass communication before my very fingertips and all this unfocused energy. And do I use it to save lives? I don't even talk about important issues, like politics (upsetting), world politics (quite upsetting), homeland security (oh so very upsetting), and the direction humanity has taken, is taking and will take and what responsibility we have as people. I use all these resources instead to say "I hate [insert name]," and "why blah blah [insert subject]," and "I'm so sick of Hollywood/movie stars/movie critics."

I am so fucking sick of movie critics. Most, possibly all film critics suffer from the horrible disease that critics of any medium suffer from: being utterly dismissive to work that doesn't match their personal tastes. How many times have you read a review that made you feel bad about liking a certain kind of movie? I remember the guy in the Washington Post saying: "Why would anybody want to see a movie starring Woody Harrelson?" Uh... I dunno. Why would they?

(By the way, two of my all-time favorite films are White Men Can't Jump and The People Vs. Larry Flynt)

Wait a minute...

Hold on, I'll be right back.

Okay, I'm back. I just re-read all of my old memos.

Am I a movie-critic?

Am I so fucking sick of myself?

I might be.

But I'd rather pick on Roger Ebert.

I am going to reference (and by that I mean, reprint without permission) a couple of Roger Ebert reviews for four movies released within a week of each other, not to pick on him personally, but to illustrate the trends in film criticism that reveal the near-total worthlessness of professional film criticism. Roger Ebert lends himself to this process by being famous nationwide (thanks to TV) and very articulate about the movies he reviews.

Roger Ebert is not doing his best. He has recently had cancer surgery. I don't know his condition, but I do know that he's the film critic whose reviews I still read on a regular basis. I wish him well and hope he recovers. While we're being like this, I hope that De Niro also fully recovers from his recently diagnosed cancer, news that, for whatever reason, strikes me as enormously depressing. But De Niro has apparently caught it in the early stages, so we can hope. No, I'm not going to make a smartass comment about Analyze What? or something. Oh wait... did I just? Aw, fuckit...

I don't read Ebert because our opinions match, but because from the way Roger Ebert describes films and his opinions, I generally get a clear idea of whether I'll like the movie. This is mostly because Ebert, more than any other critic I've read, is usually willing to give a film a chance, and therefore discusses in great detail where and why the films fall apart for him.

That being said, he gave Raising Arizona a "one-and-a-half out of four stars" review upon its release. That means that he effectively stated with his star rating system that Raising Arizona is a less valuable film than Double Team, starring Jean Claude Van Damme and Dennis Rodman. He gave that two stars.

(Raising Arizona is a contender for number one in my top ten all time favorite films)

But he has also repeatedly rejected comparing the stars, admitting that they simply don't hold up to scrutiny, and though he gave Speed four stars upon its release and gave The Big Lebowski three stars, he is not saying that he'd rather watch Speed than The Big Lebowski. He is just saying that Speed is a better film... or something. Jesus, the stars are all a crock of shit, aren't they?

Anyway, yeah, ignore the stars but for this; If they're under three he doesn't recommend the movie, if they're three or over he does. Four means he loved it.

And if the movie got zero stars, then either he feels the star rating does not apply (Pink Flamingoes and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, the latter which he scripted and, reading his review, really admires) or he HATED the movie. HATED IT.

"The new version of 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' is a contemptible film: Vile, ugly and brutal. There is not a shred of a reason to see it. Those who defend it will have to dance through mental hoops of their own devising, defining its meanness and despair as 'style' or 'vision' or 'a commentary on our world.' It is not a commentary on anything, except the marriage of slick technology with the materials of a geek show."

"The movie is not about anything at all except the skill and humor of its making. It's kind of brilliant."

"There is no worthy or defensible purpose in sight here: The filmmakers want to cause disgust and hopelessness in the audience. Ugly emotions are easier to evoke and often more commercial than those that contribute to the ongoing lives of the beholders."

"Plots like this have fueled lovely screwball comedies, and 'Intolerable Cruelty' is in the genre, but somehow not of it. The Coens sometimes have a way of standing to one side of their work: It's the puppet and they're the ventriloquists. The puppet is sincere, but the puppetmaster is wagging his eyebrows at the audience and asking, can you believe this stuff? Joel and Ethan are bounteously gifted filmmakers, but sometimes you just want them to lay off the irony and climb down here with the groundlings."

"'Kill Bill: Volume 1' shows Quentin Tarantino so effortlessly and brilliantly in command of his technique that he reminds me of a virtuoso violinist racing through 'Flight of the Bumble Bee' -- or maybe an accordion prodigy setting a speed record for 'Lady of Spain.' I mean that as a sincere compliment."

"It recycles the same old tired thriller tools that have been worn out in countless better movies. There is the scary noise that is only a cat. The device of loud sudden noises to underline the movements of half-seen shadows. The van that won't start. The truck that won't start. The car that won't start. The character who turns around and sees the slasher standing right behind her. One critic writes, 'Best of all, there was not a single case of "She's only doing that (falling, going into a scary space, not picking up the gun) because she's in a thriller."' Huh? Nobody does anything in this movie for any other reason. There is no reality here. It's all a thriller."

"His story is a distillation of the universe of martial arts movies, elevated to a trancelike mastery of the material. The movie is all storytelling and no story. The motivations have no psychological depth or resonance, but are simply plot markers. The characters consist of their characteristics."

"The movie doesn't tell a story in any useful sense, but is simply a series of gruesome events which finally are over. It probably helps to have seen the original film in order to understand what's going on, since there's so little exposition. Only from the earlier film do we have a vague idea of who the people are in this godforsaken house, and what their relationship is to one another. The movie is eager to start the gore and unwilling to pause for exposition."

"It doesn't sneer, it's not about cheap shots, it is perfectly sincere. You never catch Campbell or Davis winking at the audience or patronizing the material. They approach their characters with all the curiosity and respect they'd deserve in a serious film."

"There is a controversy involving Quentin Tarantino's 'Kill Bill: Volume 1,' which some people feel is 'too violent.' I gave it four stars, found it kind of brilliant, felt it was an exhilarating exercise in nonstop action direction. The material was redeemed, justified, illustrated and explained by the style. It was a meditation on the martial arts genre, done with intelligence and wit. 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' is a meditation on the geek-show movie. Tarantino's film is made with grace and joy. This movie is made with venom and cynicism. I doubt that anybody involved in it will be surprised or disappointed if audience members vomit or flee."

"I said the movie doesn't work. And so it doesn't. How could it work? It doesn't work as a horror movie because the Bubba Ho-Tep monster would make Ed Wood's monsters look slick by comparison. It doesn't work as a cult movie because it challenges the cleverness of the audience instead of congratulating it. It doesn't work as a traditional story arc because the story jumps the rails when Bubba Ho-Tep turns up."

"But, aw, come on, when she walks across the room and his heart leaps up, or when she looks at him in a closeup that undresses itself, what makes the Coens pull back from this emotion? Why won't they give us the payoff their setup demands? We enjoy many turns of the screw in this movie, but there comes a time when the screw is seated and they keep turning until they strip the groove. We, poor saps, who invested our emotions in the movie, are hung out to dry. The materials are available in 'Intolerable Cruelty' to create a movie with an irresistible comic payload, so why must they skew it into a warning against itself?"

"The movie begins with grainy 'newsreel' footage of a 1974 massacre (the same one as in the original film; there are some changes but this is not a sequel). Then we plunge directly into the formula of a Dead Teenager Movie, which begins with living teenagers and kills them one by one. The formula can produce movies that are good, bad, funny, depressing, whatever. This movie, strewn with blood, bones, rats, fetishes and severed limbs, photographed in murky darkness, scored with screams, wants to be a test: Can you sit through it? There were times when I intensely wanted to walk out of the theater and into the fresh air and look at the sky and buy an apple and sigh for our civilization, but I stuck it out. The ending, which is cynical and truncated, confirmed my suspicion that the movie was made by and for those with no attention span."

"But it does sort of work in one way: It has the damnedest ingratiating way of making us sit there and grin at its harebrained audacity, laugh at its outhouse humor, and be somewhat moved (not deeply, but somewhat) at the poignancy of these two old men and their situation."

"I like good horror movies. They can exorcise our demons. 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' doesn't want to exorcise anything. It wants to tramp crap through our imaginations and wipe its feet on our dreams. I think of filmgoers on a date, seeing this movie and then -- what? I guess they'll have to laugh at it, irony being a fashionable response to the experience of being had."

"Do yourself a favor. There are a lot of good movies playing right now that can make you feel a little happier, smarter, sexier, funnier, more excited -- or more scared, if that's what you want. This is not one of them. Don't let it kill 98 minutes of your life."

Okay, here's what I gathered by that one long review (can you believe a reputable newspaper printed all that? Standards have changed. It makes my memos look focused and direct.)

"Kill Bill:Volume I" is brilliant because it copies an entire genre of movies and presents them in a way that is intentionally brilliant as devised by the film-maker. Four stars.

"Intolerable Cruelty" is not recommended because the film-makers are too ironic and do not give the audience the satisfaction of a straight version of the material. Two and a half stars.

"The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" is vile because it does nothing to transcend the material and does not expand upon the events, which are presented slickly and professionally. No stars.

"Bubba Ho-Tep" shouldn't succeed because it is not slick nor up to professional standards, but does succeed because it is sincere. Three stars.

Let's put it this way. None of these four films are going to save the world (with the possible exception of Bubba Ho-Tep. You think I'm kidding). But for some reason these four movie reviews really, really strongly bother me, each and every one of the four.

But I honestly couldn't tell you why. I've only seen two of the four movies (Bubba Ho-tep, please play near me soon!), but... well... why do the reviews bother me so much? Is it because he talks about the film-makers intentions so much? Is it because he gave Intolerable Cruelty a bad review but gave good reviews to Kate and Leopold, Two Weeks Notice and Maid in Manhatten? Is it because he praised a sloppy and self-important kung-fu movie for the same reasons he slammed the energetic and uncommon romantic comedy? Is it because he decides to lash out at all slasher flicks in general after all those good reviews for the Scream movies? Is it because he says that Bubba Ho-Tep shouldn't work, where it is painfully clear to the rest of us that there is no reason it cannot work?

Is it because it seems so arbitrary whether the movies are recommended or not?

Is it because... Kill Bill made more money than Intolerable Cruelty?

Is it because... from those four reviews, I actually CAN'T tell how much I'd like the movies?

It's probably all of the above, but an added little bonus resentment. Film critics are paid good money to go see films, but they just don't seem to realize that their opinions really are arbitrary. As all our cinematic opinions are, right? I can pass out from rage while reviewing a serial killer movie, but my friend Steph can still remind me that those are some seriously misguided priorities. Good reviews can build anticipation for certain films (Lost in Translation), do nothing for others (American Splendor), kill certain movies (Gigli) and do nothing to kill others (Scary movie 3, The Texas Cheesecake Massacre, etc.). Personally, I influence few people to see this movie or that, because I believe that who likes what movie is a discovery to be made about a person's tastes, not a standard by which we should all be held. They're all just opinions, right?

Personally, I'd like to see a little more humility in film critics. A little more admission of vulnerability, and I don't mean sound bites ("I laughed! I cried! I wet the seat!"). A little less personal bias and a little more curiosity. Fact is, if I was paid to watch fucking movies, even while sitting through Good Boy! or The Rugrats Destory The Third World or even House of A Thousand Corpses, I'd still grin from ear to ear everyday I realized that I'm paid to watch movies and write my opinions of them. Now if they'll just pay me to eat food and have sex, I could probably save up enough coin to one day make a movie, that I would then be paid to watch and write my opinion of, while eating a sandwhich and having sex.

What's my point? Point is, c'mon critics. Life is good. You can admit it. Gigli was not that bad. Gladiator was not that good. Armageddon was not that important. And Cameron Diaz actually is as pretty as everyone seems to think. C'mon, guys, you can admit it.

And Rog, admit it. Kill Bill was not so great. Intolerable Cruelty was better than you said. Bubba Ho-Tep Saves, and there is a point to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: stay away from rural areas.

As for me, I criticize movies not because I'm paid, but because I care. And frankly, I voice my opinions so people will know: a guy who the press indicated should love Kill Bill, actually didn't like it much. A guy who the press indicated would snooze at Intolerable Cruelty thought it was a blast. A guy who people thinks The Texas Chainsaw Massacre was made for, has yet to see the remake.

Did you get through this whole thing? Cuz I got plenty more opinions.

Like...

I liked American Splendor a lot. I hated Empire Records. I also hated Can't Hardly Wait. I loved Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. I love The Piano, and wish more people my age would agree with me. I think the best movie ever made might just be Chinatown. My least favorite movie is Straw Dogs; well-made, but every single scene contains everything I hate about humanity. The Wild Bunch is a great film. So is The Conversation. I've never been a fan of Dustin Hoffman, but I loved Tootsie. Taxi Driver is great, but I like it less as the years go on, while I like Raging Bull more. Same with Dr. Strangelove, while I like A Clockwork Orange less and less as time goes by. Casablanca, great movie. Gone With the Wind, whatever. Attack of the Clones DOES suck more than The Phantom Menace; what it lacks in Jar Jar it makes up for in ridiculously bad film-making on all levels, and it doesn't even have anything as cool as the Darth Maul fight. I like Fellowship more than Two Towers, but I actually like the release version of Fellowship better than the extended version. I greatly anticipate the extended version of Two Towers. I'm a little nervous about the big spider in Return of the King. The Godfather is better than Godfather II. I do not like the films of Lars Von Trier. Oliver Stone made a handful of great movies, but I can't stand him or his recent work. Michael Moore really should decide to be either a social critic or a man with an agenda, I'm getting tired of him being both. I like sex in movies, but recently it seems to be either cheeky sex humor or cold, humorless erotica. I thought Secretary was great. I also like nude scenes in movies, but recently it either seems to be either well-known actors struggling with their modesty and/or image, or Girls-Gone-Wild-style random naked girls as extras. I also like violence in movies, but I hate when the violence is treated casually and without consequences. I hate the constant trivializing of love that most movies perpetuate, they seem to treat it like the all-important answer to everything without really believing that. All the love professions in movies sound like lectures in pop-love. Love is the movie deux ex machina. Okay, by this point, everyone has stopped reading except for my followers. Here are my instructions.

--Paxton leaves the main ranch house at 6am to ride his favorite horse. When he is between the main house and the stables, incapacitate him and take him to main HQ.
--Be ready at HQ with the catapault at 6:30am. At 7 o'clock sharp we will catapault Paxton into the sun, thus creating the supernova that will destroy the unbelievers.
--At 8am we will meet at Sheetz for a quick breakfast on the go. I'm thinking Shmuffins, shmagels, and shmilet shmignon. Anybody has a problem with that, there's a Waffle House down the block, but we won't wait for you to finish and be prepared for the food to have few clever catch-names.
--At 8:30 am we will begin the new age of awe and wonder, as the cries of our matyr's name will ring out in the streets! PAX-TON! PAX-TON! PAX-TON!
-At 9am I'm going back to bed, since I'm working the graveyard shift tonight. Gotta' pay the bills, y'know. We can't all make money watching movies!

Live long and Paxton! End transmission.

Don't forget to tell people how to get in touch with us.

All the memos