Criticism and Value Judgments: Three Ways to Go Wrong
Steve Sailer has some interesting things to say about movie criticism and value judgments. Big shocker: average people are much better than professional critics at predicting the movies average people will like.
I'm still rather skeptical of the public's taste, but the critics are hardly infallible either. In my opinion, there are three ways value judgment can go wrong, only one of which particularly affects the public:
1. Not being intelligent or perceptive enough.
This is the big failing of the public.
Your average Joe or average Jane aren't exactly going to favour movies that require any amount of brainpower to figure out or that rely on any degree of subtlety to make their point. I once watched Fellini's Nights of Cabiria with a good friend of mine, a university educated man with good social skills and some appreciation for the arts, and he still didn't pick up on the fact that the main character was a prostitute. Multiply that by a factor of ten with your average Joe, and you can see why so many classics aren't popular with the masses, or if they are popular are popular for the wrong reasons. Your average Joe just can't keep up. While its not that hard to tell the difference between a good action movie like Spiderman 2 and a mediocre one like Spiderman 3, that's because the genre isn't exactly the most subtle one out there; on the other hand, it is difficult to tell the difference between a good Eric Rohmer movie and a bad one: to the average person their all boring yakfests. But the average person is wrong.
2. Mistaking class markers for merit.
This is the big failing of movie critics (though they aren't always as intelligent or perceptive as they think they are, either).
Most critics don't much care about which Eric Rohmer movies are good or bad either. They are all basically good, because they are all opportunities for the critic to lord his high status over the plebians. Actual merit, or the fact that there are actually good arty yak movies and bad arty yak movies, is beside the point.
3. Emotionally overwhelming biases
This one seems to afflict the public and the professional critics about equally.
The best example I can think of is the average heterosexual male's reaction to Anthony Minghella's The English Patient. Because the film is sympathetic to a woman who cheats on her average Joe, nice guy husband with someone much more exciting, it doesn't matter how insightful or well done the film is; they just hate it.
Another example would be many people's reaction to Triumph of the Will.
Now adultery and Nazism are undoubtedly nasty things, but that does not mean that Riefensthal and Minghella do not powerfully dramatize their appeal.
There are all sorts of these religious, political, class, and sexual biases out there waiting to waylay the critic.
(Another example would be the overreaction of the non-religious to Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ.)
ADDITIONAL NOTE:
Most of these biases are pretty banal. Politics, yawn. What is perhaps more interesting is aesthetic bias. I'm thinking here of Michael Blowhard. Now, Michael is a really smart, perceptive guy, and his insights about art and life are often profound. But what really interests him about the arts is the in-the-moment thrill of a great performance. Its all about what turns him on, whether sexually or otherwise. For him, Son House riffing on a old blues tune or Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone tearing it up in Basic Instinct are it, and the shakiness of the underlying material be damned. For him, an idea or a work of art doesn't need to be fully thought through; as long as it teases and tantalizes, that's enough. Sensation is primary, wisdom and insight are secondary. And correspondingly, he rates works of art differently than I do. I think this goes to the heart of our disagreement over Robert Altman: I want a director to to give me his total vision of something, while Michael is content to wander with Altman from interesting tidbit to interesting tidbit always seeking that little thrill. I don't think it is possible to resolve this kind of dispute. It all depends on what you want out of a work of art. By the criteria Michael has, he is perfectly right to make the judgments he does, and, by the criteria I have, I am right to make mine. What is important is that these criteria are set out as clearly as possible. Then let the chips fall where they may.
I should say that our two different aesthetics are not totally inimicable. I like some Altman and I can appreciate a great performance by Son House too. And Michael likes an awful lot of what I like and is a (qualified) defender of greatness in the arts. I don't think any sane person would wish away these different, but often complementary, sides of the arts. But there is, at the very least, a decided difference in emphasis, which cannot, in the end, be totally resolved. Vive le difference, I guess.
I'm still rather skeptical of the public's taste, but the critics are hardly infallible either. In my opinion, there are three ways value judgment can go wrong, only one of which particularly affects the public:
1. Not being intelligent or perceptive enough.
This is the big failing of the public.
Your average Joe or average Jane aren't exactly going to favour movies that require any amount of brainpower to figure out or that rely on any degree of subtlety to make their point. I once watched Fellini's Nights of Cabiria with a good friend of mine, a university educated man with good social skills and some appreciation for the arts, and he still didn't pick up on the fact that the main character was a prostitute. Multiply that by a factor of ten with your average Joe, and you can see why so many classics aren't popular with the masses, or if they are popular are popular for the wrong reasons. Your average Joe just can't keep up. While its not that hard to tell the difference between a good action movie like Spiderman 2 and a mediocre one like Spiderman 3, that's because the genre isn't exactly the most subtle one out there; on the other hand, it is difficult to tell the difference between a good Eric Rohmer movie and a bad one: to the average person their all boring yakfests. But the average person is wrong.
2. Mistaking class markers for merit.
This is the big failing of movie critics (though they aren't always as intelligent or perceptive as they think they are, either).
Most critics don't much care about which Eric Rohmer movies are good or bad either. They are all basically good, because they are all opportunities for the critic to lord his high status over the plebians. Actual merit, or the fact that there are actually good arty yak movies and bad arty yak movies, is beside the point.
3. Emotionally overwhelming biases
This one seems to afflict the public and the professional critics about equally.
The best example I can think of is the average heterosexual male's reaction to Anthony Minghella's The English Patient. Because the film is sympathetic to a woman who cheats on her average Joe, nice guy husband with someone much more exciting, it doesn't matter how insightful or well done the film is; they just hate it.
Another example would be many people's reaction to Triumph of the Will.
Now adultery and Nazism are undoubtedly nasty things, but that does not mean that Riefensthal and Minghella do not powerfully dramatize their appeal.
There are all sorts of these religious, political, class, and sexual biases out there waiting to waylay the critic.
(Another example would be the overreaction of the non-religious to Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ.)
ADDITIONAL NOTE:
Most of these biases are pretty banal. Politics, yawn. What is perhaps more interesting is aesthetic bias. I'm thinking here of Michael Blowhard. Now, Michael is a really smart, perceptive guy, and his insights about art and life are often profound. But what really interests him about the arts is the in-the-moment thrill of a great performance. Its all about what turns him on, whether sexually or otherwise. For him, Son House riffing on a old blues tune or Michael Douglas and Sharon Stone tearing it up in Basic Instinct are it, and the shakiness of the underlying material be damned. For him, an idea or a work of art doesn't need to be fully thought through; as long as it teases and tantalizes, that's enough. Sensation is primary, wisdom and insight are secondary. And correspondingly, he rates works of art differently than I do. I think this goes to the heart of our disagreement over Robert Altman: I want a director to to give me his total vision of something, while Michael is content to wander with Altman from interesting tidbit to interesting tidbit always seeking that little thrill. I don't think it is possible to resolve this kind of dispute. It all depends on what you want out of a work of art. By the criteria Michael has, he is perfectly right to make the judgments he does, and, by the criteria I have, I am right to make mine. What is important is that these criteria are set out as clearly as possible. Then let the chips fall where they may.
I should say that our two different aesthetics are not totally inimicable. I like some Altman and I can appreciate a great performance by Son House too. And Michael likes an awful lot of what I like and is a (qualified) defender of greatness in the arts. I don't think any sane person would wish away these different, but often complementary, sides of the arts. But there is, at the very least, a decided difference in emphasis, which cannot, in the end, be totally resolved. Vive le difference, I guess.


5 Comments:
Almost no films are as good as Buster Keaton's. The problem starts there.
Yes, Keaton's films were pretty crasp, weren't they?
Lots of women hated The English Patient, too, and for the reason you cite here - that it was sympathetic to adultery.
I'm not certain, though, that you're right about the reason why men disliked the film. The ones I talked to who said they hated it, and there were many, seemed to be hostile because it gave primacy to personal feeling rather than communal soldarity. It wasn't the adulterous betrayal that got them, it was Almagazy's betrayal of the expatriate community to the Germans. One man kept saying, "why didn't he renounce Katherine, like in Casablanca?"
As I said in my own discussion of this point on my weblog, Rick's situation really wasn't comparable to that of Almagazy. He encouraged Elsa to return to her husband and to go into danger, not certain death. But war doesn't always make acts of renunciation as easy as that. Casablanca's creators were making wartime propaganda and they set up Rick's situation so that his decision was relatively painless. Almagazy, on the other hand, knew that Katherine would die a lonely, painful death in the dark if he did not try to help her, and the only way to do so was by trading information for German assistance. I think he was wrong to do it, but it would have been a terrible decision to make.
I suspect that men who saw the film resented the way that it manipulated their fantasies of heroic renunciation.
I found Little Miss Sunshine a good example of failing #2: except for the hilarious beauty recital performance at the end, the rest of the movie seemed to me to be yet another satirization of the dreariness of suburban life, a theme hugely popular with movie critics, but less so with the general populace, who by and large like their detached homes and lawns and fast food meals.
And, I found Sideways a good example of #3. I thought the film was an excellent portrayal of some of life's losers and the women who foolishly fall for them. But the characters were so repugnant, so true to life, that watching the movie felt too much like spending another Thanksgiving with one's most appalling relatives.
I did some analysis of data from imdb (the masses) and rotten tomatoes (professional critics) about top movie preferences. They're far more convergent than I expected. Anyway, just look at the data.
Here it is: http://t-a-w.blogspot.com/2009/07/tastes-of-movie-critics-and-tastes-of.html
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