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Will Bad Grandpa mean good news for Jackass habitué?
Oscar shmoscar, no honor that has befallen me could ever rival being called a "former Burl Stiff co-worker." Truly that is the Burlitzer Prize. Alas, Johnny Knoxville will never rival my favorite grandpa on film, Burl "Not Stiff Yet" Ives snarling at the grandkids in *Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,* while looking at them as if they are small, noisy balls of dung. Yes, Valerie led me to the Jackasses, just as before she sagely led me to the joys of *Dumb &* *Dumber,* but while I still love *D&D,* the adventures of Bam and the boys never quite satisfy. Maybe because there is so much wind-up for their sado-masochistic gags, so much premature giggling and boyish guffawing, that the comedy payoff often feels deflated on arrival. It reminds me of how Red Skelton used to break up over his frequently lame TV material. Don't worry, I have not returned to primeval Skelton by moving to Oregon. Well, back to mowing the chickens....— October 22, 2013 9:59 p.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Robco: Your suggestion that I turn to social media is supportive and au-courant. Sadly I am not compulsively social (scratch not very deeply and you will find that most true critics are loners who relish those many hours in the dark). Writing (for modest pay) a column that comes out in most issues of a respected weekly that has fairly clear-cut competition is a structural habit that imposes concentration on both the writer and the reader. The value of amateurism is rather limited, and the "everyone's a critic" idea is one of the current, indulgent superstitions. In heading for Blogovia the Reader might be a brave Columbus, or maybe more like the guy in 2001: A Space Odyssey who goes spinning off into space without life support. I wish it bon voyage and a safe arrival.— June 21, 2012 11:11 a.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Nan, I appreciate your high regard and interest. Do people really want to hear about a field that is dying from the brain downward, often by executive decree, especially all the people who want movies to just be a popcorn and buzz experience? Andrew Sarris just died, he shaped the great age of American movie reviewing along with Kael (whom I knew and admired more), and this sad fact is very much a case of twilight's last gleaming. New critics will rise, will find a niche in the new media, but I really don't care to be a keeper of the dinosaur bones. Cary Grant did that better in Bringing Up Baby. (Some reflections on criticism in my era will appear in my book project). On and up......— June 20, 2012 1 p.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Delmartian, I did review Moon. And liked it, partly because it didn't trundle out Big Themes. It does not bloviate space gas like Prometheus. It is about a homesick, lonely, neglected, neurotic man, and Sam Rockwell is terrific. Also, the sets and effects are modest, and thus all the more effective.— June 18, 2012 8:50 p.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Glenn, Something tells me you would have seen Pulp Fiction without my prompting, but I am glad that my usher's flashlight of prose and praise helped lead you there at age 13 (am also glad that Tarantino went on to an even better movie, Jackie Brown). Please feel free to stay in touch, and by all means keep up your thoughtful writing. Thrive.— June 18, 2012 8:44 p.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Javajo25: Many thanks for the kind remarks and the ongoing interest before them. No critic should flog a dictionary, but if we simply stuck to the vocabulary normally heard in mall-plex lobbies, we can then off-load forever Shakespeare, Wilde, Williams (Tennessee), Austen, Dickens, Nabokov, Greene and numerous other fine sources for movies. One reason I like Moonrise Kingdom is that the language is fairly spare but precise, tuned to a fine and funny point, like Mamet reworked by brainy kids (in this case, Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola). Listening well is part of the art of viewing. It wold be a form of sacrilege, but you could turn away from Citizen Kane, just listen, and still have a wonderfully adult experience. And thanks for your send off in the spirit of Roy and Dale.— June 18, 2012 8:39 p.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Delmartian: Thanks much for the excellent note. As I don't really believe in The Numbers, so I can't put much stock in how often anyone agrees with my stuff, but a high number certainly helps to sustain interest, doesn't it? Yes, Scott's Prometheus is a debacle. What puzzles me is how a veteran director who had years to plan his prequel, and was given such a budget, and a capable cast, could squander his resources on such a silly and wantonly generic dud. It seems junk-piled from older movies. That's why I spilled a little spoiler in my review. A film that bad doesn't merit the courtesy of protection (anyway, the chatty Internet tends to divulge surprises very quickly). I admit that it was fun slamming some of the big losers, and my itch was beginning to twitch for Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. I was hoping it would also set me up for Calvin Coolidge: Silent Succubus. Thanks for your years of thoughtful attention, and best wishes.— June 17, 2012 10:48 a.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
John: Thank you for making such a valuable contribution to our trifecta of column coverage. And thank you for coming to my defense so graciously. That is a difficult tone to maintain in the era of "sucks" and "awesome," and I had to indulge myself a little in my response (below) to the squeaky Squonkins. Keep on writing and teaching!— June 17, 2012 10:36 a.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
Squonkins: Where were you in all my 28 years reviewing in San Diego? You arrive so late at the party, like a guy who sat in his car furiously scribbling (urgent thoughts curl around the edges) while the discussion happened elsewhere, and yet still remains constipated with ideas so feverish that no amount of response could ever relieve the infernal pressure. Sorry, I cannot provide the enema you need, but in sympathy I will offer a few replies to your complaints (and weirdly grudging praise), and to dress them up as our "debate" I will include fussy-pedantic numbers: 1. My piece is not an analysis of The Reader, though you are free to draw out implications. 2. Hit fever as a media fixation began in the '70s with Jaws, Star Wars, etc.; my favorite of that bunch was Close Encounters of the Third Kind. 3. The old movie series (Charlie Chan, Thin Man, Martin & Lewis etc.) were hyped but were never pressure-cooked events in the modern manner. The media machinery for that was not then in place.. 4. Of course serious filmmakers continue to do artistic work and smart, crafty entertainments. Look at my lists in the article. 5. I am not a tech-phobe and I have welcomed good digital work (like the Melies scenes in Hugo). Nobody who owns DVDs (I do) is anti-digital. But like Geoffrey O'Brien I realize that the passing of celluloid is an aesthetic sea-change, that we are losing something cherished for something as yet unproven (and very heavily hyped). 6. I have supported many documentaries. Nine are mentioned in my piece. My favorite film last year was Buck. 7. I never felt stymied by a "conservative environment' at the U.T., but like most other staffers suffered from managerial panic infected by growing philistinism. 8. It isn't the duty of a movie critic to preach his political opinions. Anyone who reads my work can tell that I am a humanist and often liberal. 9. Your spitballs about my judgment of movies like Munich, The Haunting, etc. show a rabid zeal to maintain old, tired grudges -- about movie opinions! I would have to dig up those old reviews to offer detailed defense, in the context of their time. Once again, you are coming very late to the party. 10. Anyone who falls down to whining about 'spoilers' in a review is, frankly, a baby. 11. Are you one of those boring cranks who needs a critic to polish the mirror of you own opinions? You can do that vain buffing yourself. 12. Good luck, and goodbye.— June 17, 2012 3:02 a.m.
David Elliott's Final Column
DJ and Nan.....well, thanks for the encouragement (though yours, Nan, seems a little pornographic). Actually, for several years I have been writing a book, on great star performances. Every time I think it is finished, I find something new or think of a fresh idea, and get back into it. Not exactly the Proust Syndrome, but roughly in the general vicinity. Maybe some day it will see the light of publication, and the better light of pleased readers. I love my computer as a window to the world, but when it comes to social media I seem to be a man of the Old Testament. I blog not, neither do I tweet, nor hath the radiant face of Facebook shone upon me. I do not need to be Entirely in Touch. As for the brave new world, does it still have the hopeful aura of 'The Tempest,' or did Huxley forever put a more sinister slant into it?— June 15, 2012 8:02 p.m.