>I have been thinking lately of the responsibility of film criticism. In regards to film (and other arts), my own training includes both criticism and production. So when it comes to thinking about film criticism I find myself often of two minds. I love to examine, think about, discuss, and write about works of art. I also know a little of what it is like to produce works of art and present them to the world (mine is a rather small world at this point) for examination, thought, discussion, and whatever else. There is a certain amount of vulnerability in being an artist, or creating a film, or singing a song. And yet, I believe works of art (film included, of course) should be critiqued. I believe this because it is, or can be, good for the artist, good for the critic, and good for anyone else who participates. Art criticism is a natural, human endeavour that is a vital part of how we “make” the world in which we live. I also believe that criticism is, or should be, a part of how we do something else that is vital to our existence, that is, to love each other.
To love each other, that is the underlying, fundamental, deeply purposeful project of criticism – even though it may not look that way on its surface.
Love, in this context, is not necessarily emotional, nor is it a cheap sentimentality, and certainly it is not romantic love. This kind of love comes from the realization that to love each other, that is, to care for the well being, the goodness, the growth of another person (of all persons) is the right thing to do. It is a way of behaving, a way of considering, a choice. All too often film criticism, and just about any kind of criticism, emerges from a desire to be clever, or witty, or an intellectual, or just plain right. All of these desires are not wrong in and of themselves, but they can have negative ramifications when uncoupled from a desire for the progress and betterment of the artist, the reader, and even of oneself (the critic). Remember each film, each work of art, is a manifestation of a moment in the artist’s ongoing process as an artist (and as a human being). Consider the following quote from Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking by David Bayles & Ted Orland:
Filmmaker Lou Stouten tells the painfully unapocryphal story about hand-carrying his first film (produced while he was still a student) to the famed teacher and film theorist Slavko Vorkapitch. The teacher watched the entire film in silence, and as the viewing ended rose and left the room without uttering a word. Stouten, more than a bit shaken, ran out after him and asked, “But what did you think of my film?” Replied Vorkapitch, “What film?”
The lesson here is simply that courting approval, even that of peers, puts a dangerous amount of power in the hands of the audience. Worse yet, the audience is seldom in a position to grant (or withhold) approval on the one issue that really counts – namely, whether or not you’re making progress in your work. They’re in a good position to comment on how they’re moved (or challenged or entertained) by the finished product, but have little knowledge or interest in your process. Audience comes later. The only pure communication is between you and your work.
I am sure Stouten’s experience is rather common, in one way or another. I am also sure that the advice given by Bayles and Orland is a typical defense mechanism born out of numerously painful experiences. The truth is, Vorkapitch had an opportunity to take this young filmmaker and help him grow into a better filmmaker, but Vorkapitch chose to love himself, his status, or whatever, rather than Stouten. What Vorkapitch failed to realize is that it is not the film that matters, not really, it is people that matter. Even if Vorkapitch felt he had wasted and hour or two of his life watching a film that he thought was terrible, he still had the responsibility to act as he should, and he didn’t.
To be a loving critic may require one to say hard things, to point out that a work of art is quite bad (and why), to get in an artist’s face and and say she is wrong. Honesty is fundamental to love. But there is a big difference between saying such things as a means of truly participating in an artist’s process, and saying such things as a way to place oneself “above” the artist. Filmmaking (and art-making) is a truly great thing – a kind of gift as it were – and no critic would have a film to judge were it not for the difficult labor of the filmmaker. I frequently need to remind myself of this. I also need to remember that the critic provides (or has the opportunity to provide) an invaluable service to the artist and the art making process. If we want to speak of the responsibility of film criticism, let’s begin with that.
pilgrimakimbo 