This is the Question of the Day posed by MaryAnn Johanson, the Flick Filosopher. She’s been writing intelligent, witty commentary for as long as I’ve been reading film criticism on the Internet (since the mid-90s or so), and it saddens me that she’s feeling depressed about her job prospects. I don’t want an Internet without MaryAnn Johanson. If a major trade publication like Variety doesn’t see economic sense in paying a full-time critic, there’s an even slimmer chance that freelancer/blogger like Johanson, even with syndicated reviews, can get by entirely on writing about movies. Her worries about the shrinking audience for film criticism may be justified, but I found another of her thought threads even more potent. She writes:
“There’s the rub: I don’t think this is the kind of job that can be done well if it’s not done full time… at least, I cannot imagine doing this if I were seeing only one movie a week and reviewing just that one movie. A film critic needs to be immersed in film… and since my overarching thesis is looking at why these movies now, I need to see as many new movies as possible in order to even try to put it all into some context.”
Part of the problem might be that her thesis is tied so inextricably to zeitgeist. Here’s a fact: a film critic cannot ever catch up. There are simply too many movies and media events coming out on a daily basis for any one person to know all there is to know. Scratch that — there are too many for any one person to know what they need to know about even specialized interest areas.
I agree wholeheartedly that a good film critic needs to be immersed in film, but film draws from so many other sources that a critic needs to be on a friendly basis with those sources as well. That’s why good critics watch television programs, read classic and contemporary literature, listen to a wide variety of music, keep an eye on world events, etc. To be so completely immersed as to have a working knowledge of everything would require spending all one’s time watching movies and spending virtually no time writing about them. Granted, a person who exclusively divides her time between media consumption and writing about media will have a far more informed viewpoint on media than someone who must divide her time between a full-time job completely unrelated to film on top of consuming and writing about film. But this notion that there is a level at which a critic can try to contextualize everything correctly… I’m not entirely sure that it’s any more possible to keep up as a professional critic than it is as a dedicated amateur.
Of course, it’s easy to say that, since I’m one of the amateurs. I work a day job that pays just enough to cover living expenses plus entertainment. I can’t imagine the vertigo being experienced by professional critics at the moment when the bottom is dropping out of their profession. That sucks, and I empathize with them. But I do take issue (just a little bit) with the implication that “good” criticism can really only come from “professional” critics. Johanson has walked the line between blogger/print journalist for a long time,1 and she’s contributed immeasurably to my own knowledge and appreciation of film and television. That’s why it kind of surprises me that she’d express a sentiment like this. Maybe it’s just borne out of anger, frustration, and fear. That would be very reasonable.
But good critical thinking about film will survive. The Internet has a lot of half-baked blogs (this being one of them) and thoroughly ignorant fanboys or pretentious twats expounding foolishly on pop culture and motion pictures. (Again, I’m one of them.) Film societies and clubs — most or all of them founded by amateurs — were the backbone of the critical establishment. My longstanding hunch, which has been so consistently supported by the evolution of Net culture that it seems to be a solid theory, has always been that the Internet will revolutionize the way people think and write about film. Film criticism is now more populist than it ever was, both for good and ill. But the good is good regardless of the bad. Just because anyone can start a blog or Web page doesn’t mean that the bad criticism is really on an equal level with good criticism. The gatekeepers may find their hold on pop culture eroding, but as long as there are thoughtful, intelligent people out there taking the time to write about film (or video blog or podcast, etc.), thoughtful intelligent people will gravitate to what they have to say. They’re debate. Argue. Hurl invectives and gargantuan, unedited, extemporaneous essays back and forth until they’re no closer to consensus than they were before. But the evolution of understanding of film and pop culture may be advanced just a little bit.
It is indeed depressing to think that a person as passionate and knowledgeable about film and pop culture as MaryAnn Johanson might struggle so much with paying the rent that she has to divide her time between her beautiful obsession and a day job that is not nearly so rewarding. That is a tough break. But it’s pretty much how most people who love film live their lives. We work a job that sucks so that we can afford to broaden our scope, sate our aesthetic taste, and ponder what we’ve seen. Some of us also find time to write about it on the Internet. We’re not professionals. We may not be nearly as knowledgeable or articulate. What we have to say, however, might still have just as much value. We’re all different. We all watch slightly different things. If we’re smart enough, we’ll know how to place those things in the context that we know, with an eye toward understanding the context just a little bit better with each film, book, song we consume. Since nobody can know everything, what’s wrong with respecting the craft and dedication of the amateurs? I’d even go so far as to say that bringing a professional perspective to the experience of a film that isn’t dominated by total film immersion might have its own value. Maybe part of the reason people feel this disconnect from professional film critics is that film critics don’t appear to live in the same world. They might understand that it’s all a matter of perspective, but there’s a special connection whenever two perspectives find a point at which they can overlap. Even if this is just the knowledge that a spectacularly insightful, entertaining essay was written by a regular Joe like me (as opposed to someone who’s privileged enough to be paid to write it) who just does it for the love and no other reward… well, that’s a connection.
I definitely hope that there will always be professional film critics. But it’s not a particular failing to have to pay the rent with one job while pursuing a passion on the side. The value of the words will remain unchanged, whether they’re written by a syndicated film columnist or an investment banker who just happens to really dig Bollywood cinema (or what have you). I don’t delight in the fact that critics are losing their jobs. That’s a tragedy. But I remain optimistic about film criticism as a whole because we continue to find new ways to have that Big Conversation — and there’s room for virtually anyone at the table, provided they can string together a few cogent sentences and bring a fresh perspective. I find that exciting. No matter what happens in Johanson’s professional career, I sincerely hope that she lands on her feet, and I fervently pray that she continues to write about movies as long as she has access to an Internet connection and is able to type. I’ll be reading.
____________________________________________
- I don’t know that she draws such a sharp distinction, but a lot of print journalists do, and a lot of bloggers really resent it. I’m too lazy to take the time to comb through her archives and find instances where she’s said as much, but I’m pretty sure that she’s addressed the whole print elitism thing before. If not, I guess I’m just a bad reader. ↩

1 Comment
Comments feed for this article
April 21st, 2010 at 9:57 pm
» Forget the violence, look at the structure Conversation | Film
[...] examples of Japanese animation. A few years ago, I had the misfortune of watching a film called The Machine Girl, which was one of the goriest, most devoid-of-redeeming-value movie experiences I’ve ever had. [...]