There's been much rubber necking over the recent LA Times piece by Patrick Goldstein wherein he bemoans the cruelty of NY Times (and former LA Times) film critic Manohla Dargis. Why the drama? Apparently Dargis' pan of the Weinstein Co.'s new narrative film THE READER reminded Goldstein of past days when Harvey Weinstein wanted Dargis to stay away from reviewing Miramax titles.
The money quote that's been bouncing around the blogosphere is:
"It's an open secret in indie Hollywood that no one wants Manohla Dargis
to review their movie, fearing that the outspoken critic will tear
their film limb from limb. It's the ultimate backhanded compliment,
since what they really fear is Manohla's persuasiveness -- that she'll
write a review whose combination of vitriolic snarkiness and
intellectual heft will actually persuade high-brow moviegoers to drop
the film from their must-see list."
As Karina Longworth observed in her usual inimitable style, Goldstein appeared to be advocating a two-tiered system, wherein "classy" projects were given a handicap:
"Goldstein says it’s not a problem that the review was negative, but
unlike her peers, who “clean the knife before they stick it in,”
Dargis’ review betrays a “lack of empathy for the challenge of tackling
difficult material.” In other words: people like Harvey Weinstein, who
take the noble risk of milking Oscar bait out of an Oprah-approved
novel about a sexy Nazi cougar, should be given extra points just for
doing something a little bit more ambitious than “dumb summer comedy.”
It’s almost as if Goldstein is advocating for a kind of affirmative
action for art (or, at least, artsy) films: all pictures may be on a
level playing field in Manohla’s eyes, but a certain type of picture
should be given special consideration for at least trying to be art,
even if it fails."
(Yes, really. She wrote "milking Oscar bait out of an Oprah-approved novel about a sexy Nazi cougar" and didn't even break a sweat.)
As Karina also noted, Goldstein has previously attacked Dargis (and other critics) with the old "she's an elitist!" bullshit, which is about as useful for discussing the worth of art as is the tired "which candidate would you rather have a beer with" in determining who should be making decisions about war and peace:
"Since today's critics are famously out of touch with the common taste,
I decided to recruit (producer Avi Lerner) as my own personal multiplex movie critic. He
doesn't use as many five-dollar words as Manohla Dargis and he doesn't
have quite as firm a grasp on the auteur theory as Kenny Turan, but he
knows what he likes--and why he likes it--which is always a good
starting point for any critic."
Faux-populism aside, I'm on record in finding flaws with LA Times coverage of documentaries, so let me take a moment to raise an objection to Goldstein's opening thesis - that no one wants mean Manohla Dargis to review their movie. NO ONE!
Now maybe this is the case at the dependent indies (your Searchlights, SPCs and Miramax), but for the rest of us? Not so much.
That doesn't mean that I haven't heard doc filmmakers who were nervous about a forthcoming Dargis review - but ask your average nonfiction filmmaker if they'd rather take their chances on a review from Manohla or one from an unknown stringer consigned to page 26, and I'd wager nearly every single one would take the risk.
Why? Because Dargis is a great writer and 9 times out of 10, she writes about a film in a way that seems unique. And because everyone reads what she has to say.
My own personal experience is that I wanted Dargis to review ABOUT A SON. And she did.
It was not a good review. Some even remember it as being particularly harsh. The line that everyone seemed to latch onto was:
"It’s hard to know who the audience might be for the documentary oddity KURT COBAIN ABOUT A SON, but I bet its subject, the guy who’s still being called on to entertain us even after his death, would have hated it."
As IFC's Allison Willmore wrote last week:
"It's only once in a while, as when Dargis came down full-force on AJ Schnack's ABOUT A SON when it received a small release, that it's felt unbalanced."
I remember that as we were opening in NYC, we were waiting for a bunch of theaters to decide whether or not to book the film. And when the Times review broke, there were those who thought that we were done for (despite quite strong reviews in the Voice and other outlets). After all, who would the audience be for such a film?
But what happened instead was that a bunch of theaters booked the film the day Dargis' review ran. The feeling was that if Manohla Dargis had reviewed the film then it must be worthy of discussion. (We also made more money and had a longer run in New York at the IFC Center - more than a month - than in any other city.)
And Dargis' review - pan though it was - inspired responses from other critics, including a lengthy piece from Sean Nelson in Seattle's The Stranger weekly, that was recently included in the Best Music Writing 2008 collection, who answered directly:
"Why should the subject like the documentary? Did those greedy Bible hucksters like SALESMAN? Did Robert Crumb like CRUMB? Could anything matter less? More importantly: The whole point (I hesitate to use the word "tragedy," though it certainly felt like one) about Cobain, consecrated by his mirthless image on posters down the ages and reinforced dramatically in the film, is that he didn't like anything about himself for very long."
So then, even for our small film, overshadowed as it was by the releases of numerous other films at the same time, a review by one of the nation's better critics started a conversation, which is, I'd hope, what we want our films to do.
Now, I've got plenty of issues (as do others) with the state of film criticism related to documentaries, and Dargis is no exception. She's more than once given head scratching praise to films that I consider to be exceptionally by the numbers or even off-the-rails mistaken - and she seems far more supportive of experimentation and form-busting in narrative than she is for nonfiction, which strikes those of us 'round here as mighty old fashioned.
But when you create art - and if you haven't figured it out by now I do think that nonfiction films are (or at least can be) art - are you really supposed to be seeking the 100% fresh tomato rating? You want to create discussion, debate, passion. And sure, occasionally it's great if most (if not quite all) look upon what you've done and pat you on the back and give you laurels and awards and a bevy of praise.
As Karina rightly noted in a post today about the success of CHE's roadshow this weekend:
"Any film worth a damn is going to inspire conflicting opinions."
In an age when film critics are underpaid, being bought out, termed out and forced out, I say let's raise a glass for the good writers who love movies, whether we agree or disagree with their judgments. The democratization of film writing has reduced the power that critics once held - which is likely one of the key reasons (along with newspaper cutbacks) for the perilous state of film criticism. But the ability of so many voices - whether in the NY Times or on our humble blog - to join the conversation encourages us to engage, to expand, confront and continue the conversation for any film that's worth a damn.
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