Film Criticism & Me

Boring the audience is the greatest sin a film can commit. Everything else is comparatively trivial. This is the foundation of how I approach film criticism.

Every sin The Room (2003) commits against cinema can be forgiven for one simple reason: it’s just so damn entertaining. One reason The Godfather (1972) is so universally acclaimed is that almost anyone who watches it is totally engaged. People can debate the various thematic and technical merits of any movie, but in the end, if it doesn’t hook its audience what’s the point? This then begs the questions: how does a movie bore its audience? An action movie is just as likely to bore the audience as an art-house film is depending. However, my intention isn’t to evaluate what makes a film engaging here. Instead, I will explain what I look for in a movie and the one big smoking gun that I think points to a bad movie.

First, let’s get this straight: film as a medium was created to entertain people. It is and should always be the art of the masses. Any film that attempts to only be art first and not entertain at all will definitionally be inferior. Likewise, any movie that attempts to entertain and ignores the artistic side of the medium is failing to achieve its full potential. But perhaps entertainment is the wrong word; engagement might be a better choice. These terms are all relative of course, but I think they still have some concrete meaning worth discussing.

It’s these two dominating forces, engagement, and art, that are always tugging at each other threatening a necessary balance. Consider Guy Ritchie’s remake of Aladdin (2019) which attempts to hook its audience with nostalgia, bright production design, and a zippy adventure romance. It’s clear that the impetus for the movie didn’t come from anything artistic or a desire to say something new, and it shows. And there will be those that are drawn to the movie like moths to light simply because they want to be comforted by the familiar. This type of film was created almost entirely for entertainment purposes. That is to say, it was created to make money, first and foremost.

Aladdin (2019) started off on the wrong foot, the whole creative process was skewed by its corporate seed. It doesn’t feel genuine and as a result, many of the creative decisions feel off-putting. My guarantee is that, while it made tons of money now, a few years from now no one will remember it. As you watch the movie you realize it’s not bringing anything original to the table, there’s no personal connection other than nostalgia to connect too. It’s that personal connection that makes movies interesting and memorable.

The longevity of a movie is directly related to its audience being able to relate to something on the screen. Can the filmmakers get you invested in the conflict of the movie? When a movie is a product, the audience is more likely to sense that and disengage from the story because it doesn’t feel totally human, it doesn’t feel real. The spell is broken. Nostalgia can hold an audience’s attention for a highly limited period of time.

This also goes for the so-called “art-house” movie or “indie” films. They’re still movies and every one of them has to satisfy the need to tell a compelling story. It is understandable for an artist to rebel against that basic principle but to do so is to relegate the result of being a mere experiment seen by a select few. Rebelling against the entertainment aspect of film-making for the mere sake of rebelling against a mold leaves a movie feeling just as distant as the product-driven ones do. There are conventions for reasons and the most beloved movies of all time fit within those conventions while still creating something highly personal and creative.

Ari Aster’s second movie: Midsommar (2019), a highly well-made movie, clearly came from an original and personal desire to tell that specific story. The human connection behind the artistry is there. However, I think the film fails to reach its full potential because it forgets its audience. Aster attempts to shock and deal with the taboo without considering the ramifications on the audience.

Is anyone clamoring to go see the movie again? Are you dying to see the suicide scene again? I bet not, I bet it’s not going to make as much money as it could because the size of the potential audience is hampered by its extreme depictions of violent and sexual acts. Ultimately that is fine, however, it would be wrong to treat that film with a different framework then you would any other movie.

In Midsommar there are a few scenes and moments that are there to build tone but add little to the plot or to the development of the theme. Dead space equals boredom which equals a smaller audience. Likewise, shocking and taboo subjects also have a habit of disengaging the majority of movie audiences. And Midsommar probably wasn’t created with the general public in mind as the target audience, and in that regard, as long as it satisfies the entertainment needs of its target audience it’s a good movie. But for the sake of my critical framework, I try and look at movies from a broad standpoint and not from a niche position. What about it connects with the reviewer and what did it do specifically to keep them engaged? If a review properly explains that to the reader then it’s a good review.

I’m not advocating for all movies to be a certain thing, the outliers are as necessary as the ones in the center. But I am observing that the best and most universally beloved films stand at the center of this spectrum of entertainment and art. And I use that spectrum as a framework to evaluate movies from a fixed and relatable starting point.

In summary, if a movie has an audience that means its story is heard. You can make the most intellectually deep and artistic movie ever made but if no one wants to watch it then what’s the point of all the artistry? Conversely, if you make the most engaging movie ever made but it's completely devoid of subsistence and art, then why should the audience bother caring about it in anything but the more superficial way? These two principles, entertainment & artistry, form the foundation of how I approach movies and write about them.