Familiarity's Discontents

(Being the latest in an apparently ongoing discourse on criticism and critics.)

A few weeks ago I was talking movies with my friend Do-Ming and the discussion turned to the critical responses to Frozen 2. I haven't seen the movie myself, but I've noticed a sufficient number of reviews to lead me to mention to Do-Ming that the critics hadn't been as kindly disposed to the sequel as they'd been to the first.

Do-Ming mentioned that he'd been on the aggregator site Rotten Tomatoes* and had noticed that the critics' average was some 20 points lower than the public's average (I think it was something like 77% good for the critics, 97% for the public). What accounted for the difference, he asked. "Are critics really that picky?" One friend (RIP) argued that in fact critics were jerks who wanted non-critics to feel inferior; as I was working as a critic at the time she made this accusation I was somewhat hurt. So I prefer Do-Ming's implication, even though it's not precisely flattering either.



Not that he meant anything by it: he was honestly curious about the critical mind-set. So I started thinking about it, something I haven't really done in quite a while. (I can't remember precisely when I stopped working as a movie critic, but it's certainly been a decade if not more.)

It occurs to me that it's not so much that critics are especially picky people, at least not to begin with. The problem is that most critics have no real choice in terms of their subject matter—at least not if they're practical critics as opposed to the more academic sort. Most practical movie critics, for instance, are expected to review most if not all of the movies released in their audience area in a given week. As Hollywood pops out something like six movies a week these days your average critic isn't going to be able to write about all of them, but she sure makes a determined effort.

Not every movie a critic has to watch is going to be Casablanca or The Godfather or even Star Wars Episode IV. For every Lawrence of Arabia or Fargo a critic will have to watch a dozen or so Adam Sandler or Rob Schneider comedies† or even worse. And the critic may well have to watch these movies even if nobody else does. I still remember the day I went to review a movie on its opening day, and found myself the only person in the cinema. I was tempted to invite the projectionist (they had 'em back in those days) to go for a drink; we would both have been better off if I had.

So critics, on the one hand, have to see a lot more movies than the average movie-goer does. And Sturgeon's Law being what it is, the majority of those movies are not going to make anyone stand up and applaud.

What about the public? Well, it seems to me the most important thing about the movie-going public is: they are self-selecting. People do not, as a rule, pay money (good or bad) to watch a movie they don't care about. If I'm going to see a movie these days, it is by default a movie I am disposed to like, because something about it has made me willing to open my wallet to it. Many (most?) people go to see the sorts of movies they know they'll like. This predisposes them to like the movie they have just watched‡ and to react to it accordingly. Somebody who walks into a movie wanting to like it is, quel surprise, more likely to respond to it in a positive way.

Whereas your typical critic, having already seen 187 movies of its type, is going to be marking a lot harder. This is what happens when you a) see a lot of movies; and b) have to think about what makes one example different from another one, in order to persuade your patrons/customers to keep reading (in my case, listening to) you.

I don't know if other critics feel as I do, but one effect of a long career in the field has been to make it a lot harder for me to enjoy any art form I spent time criticizing. (This is one reason I never want to be a book critic; I like reading too much.) After spending two decades watching a plethora of movies every week, I now find myself in a situation where I only watch a few movies a year.

Of course, now that I'm a member of the public (I nearly wrote Now that I'm a civilian) I only go to movies I'm fairly certain I'll like. If you haven't seen it yet, you should drop in on Knives Out.

*Think of me what you will, but I have never been to this site. Nor to any of its competitors. Not claiming any exalted status because of this; it's just what it is.

†"Comedy" is a marketing term and does not necessarily guarantee amusement on the part of the viewer. Your mileage may vary. Void where prohibited by law. This blog accepts no responsibility or liability for the frequency of provision or quality of laughs generated by the alleged humour represented by the works of the aforementioned performers, nor of any performers affiliated or non-affiliated with same, whether or not arising from inherent talent or indeed from any aspect of personality, behaviour, or occurrence of sunspots during production.

‡The current generation of  abusive fans may be the exception to this rule. But they're all jerks anyway.