Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I spent four and a half months learning about the First Amendment and why the free expression of opinion is absolutely vital to a self-governing society. The marketplace of ideas benefits from idiotic, misinformed, even devious opinions, and, one way or another, you and I actually benefit from hearing what even the bluntest of critics has to say about our lives. We can’t fault people for having opinions that may differ from our own.
But we sure as hell can blast the living bejesus out of them.
Take this review of Episode III from the New Yorker. The writer is obviously not a Star Wars fan, so this, necessarily, means he thinks Star Wars movies are “bad.” Fair enough. However, this writer is a perfect example of something that is all too common these days — a flawed, delusional movie critic.
The flawed movie critic is the movie critic who bases an opinion on a movie outside of the context the movie frames for its viewers. This can best be described through an example. After viewing the original Star Wars, a flawed-movie critic writes the following review: “This movie is poorly conceived because lightsabers and the force doesn’t exist. Also, I don’t like science-fiction. Therefore, this movie is bad because I disagree with it. Buy your subscription to the New Yorker today.”
Pretty lame huh? In order to review science-fiction, you cannot purposefully displace yourself from it. To be fair, Hall faults this movie for some of the right reasons; the dialogue between Anakin and Padme is deplorable. But, then he launches into a rant on Yoda, concludes he doesn?t like him, complains of the SCENERY, of all things, then winds up. How about reviewing a movie on its merits?
Roger Ebert often demonstrates symptoms of this debilitating illness, and it drives me insane. Unfortunately, Anthony Lane’s illness has gone far too long without treatment, and at this point there’s really nothing more we can do for him aside from fluffing his pillow (which, frankly, you won’t see me doing even if you threaten to force-choke my trachea).
For example, at one point, this writer calls for Yoda’s “extermination” because he tells Obi-Wan to “[t]rain [himself] to let go of everything [he] fear[s] to lose.” He claims that if Yoda had children he would never say such a thing. Also, he disapproves of the way Yoda speaks.
Are you kidding me? Mr. Hall – a fucking shit about your opinion I don’t give. You’re upset that all the sets in Star Wars are “anthems to clean living and molded furniture,” yet you cry like a baby when Yoda doesn’t speak in complete sentences for your peppercorn brain to comprehend? Yes, that other times and places “might be no less rusted and septic than ours,” might very well make for good story-telling in Alien and Blade Runner. But, it seems clear to me, that those stories are not Star Wars. Superman and Batman wore capes, had alternate identites, and were always looking out for the little guy. Blade wears shades, has no alternate identity, and doesn’t care all that much about his fellow humans. In your limited view of storytelling, therefore, you’d have to conclude that Blade is a flawed superhero because he changes the formula, and doesn’t wear a cape.
How did you become a movie critic again? Oh, right, you’re a synical twit. Fair enough.
Don’t fault stories for their differences where they could have been similar! Each story deserves to be different (quite a revelation for you, I’m sure), deserves to have its own twists and turns, and, my god, even its own molded furniture. But, hey, feel free to continue whining. You may need to find another day job though.
I could go on, but that would require me to re-read your steaming-heap-of-poodoo review a few more times than I’d be willing to stomach. This guy needs a serious dose of humility.
Molded furniture … cut the crap, man.