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Thursday, January 13, 2005

Movie Critics

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Movie critics are elitist snobs.

How often have you picked up the newspaper to read about an upcoming movie, only to be scared off by the merciless shredding the reviewer inserted in his commentary? These guys take themselves pretty seriously; they make the mistake of thinking movies are like vintage wines. They are held up to the light in order to properly admire the colour and clarity of the drink, passing it beneath the nose to appreciate the bouquet, and swished lovingly around in one’s mouth before being unceremoniously spat into a silver cup. Where’s the joy in that? The reality is, most people don’t drink that way. They pop the top, do that aggravating flick-the-cap-at-you-like-a-jock-at-a-high-school-party thing, and slam it back. Done and done. Movies are seen by the general public in much the same fashion. You pay your $10, hopefully enjoy the next two hours, and forget about the experience pretty much when you come out. There’s no reason to get all huffy about it. It’s just entertainment, not art. Real art died a long time ago – if you want to compare movies to wine and art, well, seeing a Hollywood movie is like drinking Bud while you watch your kid fingerpaint.

The hilarious thing is, I’ve read many reviews where you know the critic didn’t like the movie – but they gave it a good rating anyway because they could appreciate what the director was trying to do, or maybe because they thought movie was powerful “within the genre.” The average guy though, he’d see the four stars beside the movie title, go to the movie, and come out feeling completely depressed and ripped off because he followed the directions of the movie critic. Or worse – didn’t go to a genuinely entertaining movie at all because it got bad ratings. A movie I can think of in this category is Dumb and Dumber. You can summarize it in two sentences:

Two guys find a lost suitcase full of money, and are determined to return it to its rightful owner in Aspen, Colorado. Comedy ensues.

What else do you need? It’s your typical road movie, loaded to the brim with sight gags, sound effects, and slapstick humor. It’s a movie for 12 year old boys, which probably means most men would enjoy it too. And did – it’s not the greatest movie of all time or anything, but the majority of people I know who saw the movie had a great time.

But the critics tore this one to pieces when it came out, so I didn’t go see it in theatre. This turned out to be a big mistake, because when it was released on video a few months later, I rented it on a lark and subsequently enjoyed one of the best comedies I had seen in years. Sure, it’s lowbrow – so what? Who am I trying to impress? Watching Jeff Daniels dump his bowels into the non-functional toilet at his date’s house remains near the top of my all-time favourite movie moments – just imagine this guy Harry, his hair wild, pants down, attempting desperately to flush the mess down the toilet:

“Come on, flush, you bastard…”

Comedy genius. I had to rewind it a few times in order to fully appreciate the scene. Haven’t you been uncomfortable at one time or another at your new girlfriend’s house? Wouldn’t taking the world’s biggest and most fragrant crap into her broken toilet be one of your worst nightmares? My sides ached for days after this movie. What else…the slapstick content in the film was lovingly mined from classic Stooges movies, and the movie had just enough heart – Jim Carrey’s character, desperately in love with “Mary Swanson” - that you could actually even identify with him. Just a little bit. You liked these guys, you were pulling for them. You wanted them to succeed.

And the majority of movie critics almost universally hated it. Here are some quotes, lifted directly from some of the most prominent reviewers in the country:

“The title says it all.”

“An abominable, abominable comedy.”

“A virtually laughless movie.”

“The director does not appear to have the slightest clue about comic timing.”

These guys, they missed the point. Movies are supposed to be fun – but don’t confuse that with “funny.” Fun – you are supposed to have a good time watching them. Shouldn’t you? I guess not though - guys like these award five stars to grating character studies like Requiem for a Dream, jizzing endlessly in their reviews about the multilayered genius that the film possessed, the incredibly convincing portrayals of heroin addiction, and ended up nominating it inexplicably for various screen awards.

Sucked in by pretentious and aristocratic reviews from guys like these, I went to see the movie and walked out of it two hours later armed with a new determination to stab myself repeatedly with a spoon at my earliest convenience. It was literally the most depressing movie I had ever seen in my life. It's a no-holds barred depiction of heroin addiction - a relentless two hour slog featuring a cast of irredeemable characters, without a second of comic relief to lighten the load. How did it end up with so many undeserving accolades? Who could possibly enjoy it?

Only stuck-up and provincial Hollywood movie reviewers, that’s who. I’m sure they get together regularly for circle-jerks to talk about complete wastes of celluloid like Requiem:

Snobby Reviewer Number 1: It’s amazing, the total abandon Jennifer Connelly exhibited with her portrayal of the junkie. Utterly believable.

Snobby Reviewer Number 2: Yes. The sex scene was rather – what’s the word I’m looking for? Forensic, in the way she let the drug dealer have his way with her body. Not even momentarily arousing, despite the total nudity.

Snobby Reviewer Number 1: Quite. But then, when has a woman ever given you a stiffy, Stephane?!

Snobby Reviewer Number 2: Touché, you bad boy!

When it comes to movies, make up your own mind about whether it’s worth seeing or not. Trust your instincts, and partake of your own personal guilty pleasures, no matter what anybody says. You'll thank me later.

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