Jon On Criticism

But my desire to take sacred cows out to pasture has only intensified. And so I have decided to cut out the middleman and take my work straight to the reader. And I mean that in the singular sense, because I would rather write the truth for one reader than whore myself out to thousands.

What currently passes for criticism is Tang, not orange juice. Most full-time critics (those with a real audience) are in a compromised position: driven by dependence on promotional materials on the one side and advertisers' cream puff demands on the other, these so-called critics offer up moderated, qualified reviews, designed to raise questions without offending. TV Guide's JEERS section pretends to boldly challenge but only nitpicks. Rolling Stone's music reviews always seem to hold off from delivering the knockout punch. Perhaps this ongoing flirtation with spinelessness is really a kind of moderated maturity, but it makes for flat reading. SPIN's reviews are more pungent, but they always seem to obey the rigid guidelines of the youth culture they pander to. And if you consider the new James Bond film and all its ridiculous tie-in endorsements, the bastard marriage of commerce and art just seems to be getting more and more disturbing.

I guess the million dollar question is what kind of impact, if any, can good criticism have on this situation? What I can say with certainty is that you have to say no, and say no with all the indignation you can muster, before you can hope to say yes to something better. You can view art in a passive manner, or you can engage. Good criticism might do something like this for the reader...more than warning you away from a particular kind of film, it might offer you a handle on it, changing the way you look at the same film, so that you interact with it and bring it into your life in a deeper way. I agree with Ray Carney, professor of Film at Boston University, when he says that critics must be bold enough to stand apart from the whims of the mainstream, and hold even the most popular art to an exacting standard. But I don't care for the elitist snobbery that sometimes comes with this type of attitude. There is no easy distinction between high and low art. Not all the great films are unknown to the average American. And many bestsellers have merits of their own and deserve their popularity.

Good criticism recognizes a multitude of levels on which art can be appreciated. Sometimes decadent trash is better than refinement, and if Citizen Kane doesn't move you and The Breakfast Club does, then which is the better film? The one that stays with you the next day and changes how you see the world is better. And sometimes you can find that spark in the seediest of places. Good criticism helps you to find that spark, and if it means writing from a more personal, less objective approach, then you should leave the pedestal of expert and claim your love for Big Macs. My spark may not be yours, but if I can tell you what has influenced me, in an odd sense it may help you to find your own way. My north star might only be a distant star to you, but the astronomer in you is glad to know it is there.

If good criticism does nothing else it should upset you. The strength of forceful statements is oddly threatening; it is as if we are reminded in an uncomfortable way of our own aloneness. One minute you find solace that I too loved Jerry Maguire - a guilty pleasure which all of your high-culture friends dismissed - but in the next moment you are disturbed to learn that I also loved Total Recall or that I think that Uma Thurman is overrated. We all take something different from what we take in. A good critic will push you and you should want to push right back, resenting our voice and your silence. Don't allow us that. When provoked, you must find your own outlet. In print, mind you, in print.

Finally, there may be a place for criticism as art. The best criticism - a kind not often found in this age of trite political sentiments - submerges any kind of agenda due to its respect for the form itself. If you are entertained, this line of thinking goes, then you will read on - even if you can't stand the sentiments. It isn't the most noble reason to write criticism, but it may be the most important. The best writing, like the best films or the best music, takes you outside of yourself and puts you down somewhere else. I write because I hope that someday, somewhere, a reader will lose track of a few seconds because of me.

Jon Reed