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Wild and Woolly
Josh, I admit the forum-style discussion board you describe would no doubt be entertaining (perhaps even enriching at times). Unfortunately, the kind of informative questioning you mention is not the garden-variety fare that usually ends up here. People often seem to come with fruits and vegetables pre-packaged in their fists for the hurling. Still, perhaps you are just more communally minded than I am. You are talking about a form of shared communication while I’m seeking to fortify a social hierarchy. And I’ve come to admire your tact with what seems a universal responsiveness. You seem a passionate conversationalist (even if often limited to the digital world) who genuinely appeals to people’s interests in order to make inviting connections. Indeed, I’ve been prodded more frequently as of late to bare my foibles on this message board and indulge in the guilty pleasure of online banter—Mr. Shepherd’s articles being the only on this site (or any other for that matter) that I’ve ever commented on. I suppose for my own part, whereas I can concede to the “fun” that might be had conversing with my heroes, I somewhat appreciate the novelty of being held at a distance. I enjoy preserving the mystique, even if only a pretense—to build a relationship with one I’ve only known through a one-sided elocution of the splendid and the sublime. In many ways this is why I enjoy film so much, because I can’t interview the characters; I can’t ask direct questions of their fictional motives. I can’t investigate the plot beyond what is given to me. In this sense, I’m permitted to scale my own personal summit of interest with the least amount of tools possible—a restriction that makes the peak of intellectual discovery all the more rewarding. Of course, I still “dream” of meeting my heroes. I still imagine that we would make great friends. I still permit myself the fantasy of ever perhaps impressing them. But I know it’s all fluff. As a teenager, I sent in all the letters and memorabilia to favorite bands, gambling excitement on that brief chance I might receive and autograph or a reply. We eventually shrug off the disappointment that echoes in an empty mailbox.— February 2, 2009 7:21 p.m.
Wild and Woolly
I know some may find this as merely an extension of my arrogance (and Shepherd’s as well)—let subjectivity reign. However, I’ll offer the contention that arrogance is not so much respecting (and defending) intellectualism as it is presuming an amateur has any justice to pass over an expert. There’s a reason the performer takes the stage while the audience remains in the stands. Onlookers are there to look on. When I read a commenter that attempts to usurp Shepherd’s reviews with his own piecemeal opinion, I imagine arena attendees charging the field to show the professionals “how it’s done.” Can they play? Can they sing? Can they write? Can they review films? Not in the least; but hail to the internet—where any layperson can fancy a talent that he does not possess.— February 2, 2009 2:05 p.m.
Wild and Woolly
Josh, I think we come here for quite varied reasons. You’ve raised issues several times (now as a kind of beckoning to my own ability to be “fired up”) concerning Shepherd’s choice to expend energy commenting on our discussion a few weeks past rather than presenting a new review, and his dismissive phrasing for “Bigger, Faster, Stronger.” Now I do not believe that Mr. Shepherd is infallible. I’m not going to take the role of your friend and dub him “flawless.” But still, I do not come to his reviews with the same challenging eye that you do. I do when I peruse the comments, but I’ve never found myself in a position to criticize those who know more than I. Shepherd is a better writer than I am. He is far more educated and experientially versed in cinema than I am, specifically in regards to the quality of film images. This makes him a better appreciator of film than my self. I come to Shepherd’s reviews to learn something; I don’t come to find mistakes or affronts to my own opinion, which I generally leave at the door (or I guess it would be “cover,” or “homepage,” or whatever). At most, I might question what Shepherd has to say, but I’m not in a position to judge him. I know many will judge me as ludicrously sentimental, claiming that all critics are at the whim and disposal of their readers; that if you publish it, then you deserve whatever comes at you. I have no direct argument with this way of thinking; and I would agree with it for the most part, especially given the intellectual dregs that populate much of online publishing. But when I am the novice, I do not shout advice to the big boys. This is of course my individual take the subject. Yours is obviously quite different, Josh. I actually appreciate that Shepherd does not log on to “trade blows” in a comment section debate. I find a certain dignity in his will to abstain. Now I know you publish on “The Reader” as well; so please don’t misconstrue this as an insult, but I prefer the separation between writer and reader—the one that online comments are so fervently trying to diminish. And I don’t feel that Shepherd is simply publishing a “blog,” where the popcorn frenzy of name-calling, finger-pointing, and an occasional thought are welcomed energy. Shepherd is publishing in a different league. Where I would be inclined to agree with you is wondering why Shepherd even addressed our former discussion at all. That is why I preferred (and prefer) the print version of “The Reader.” The integrity of the articles was better preserved before public commentary was allowed. When I do stroll the halls of the MoCA or MoPA, I would be horrified to see the exhibits tarnished by a roll of viewer comments left scrolling beneath them—toilet paper, pre-soiled. I can already predict the responses: “johnrubio, Do you actually consider Shepherd’s writing on par with fine art?” The preemptive answer: yes I do. That’s my subjective experience.— February 2, 2009 2:04 p.m.
Wild and Woolly
I have challenged Mr. Shepherd in the past (on a matter of historical accuracy); but beyond such matters, I can’t chide what I don’t find fault with. He makes it clear at the outset of his article that this has been a dismal week for movies, and offered instead a revival review of an older film. This is his prerogative, just as it is yours Josh to defend yourself, just as it is “jhutt’s” to place a finger in his mouth and gag whenever he reads my writing. Mr. Shepherd often forgoes a new review when he finds the current releases lacking. I guess I’m just used to it; and I appreciate the upkeep on grand relics. As I said before, I look for two components in an article: intelligence and respect, and from these I derive all other manner of enjoyment, humor, catharsis, etc. Shepherd keeps me in ample supply of both. Beyond this, all I can assure you is that I am not Mr. Shepherd (no Bruce Wayne crossover here). I don’t dress in borrowed robes to parlay my opinions under two guises. In fact, I have no knowledge of Mr. Shepherd beyond what he has relinquished in this publication. I have of course “Googled” him in hopes of finding some further contribution to his forte; but alas, “The Reader” appears to be my only avail.— January 30, 2009 11:38 a.m.
Wild and Woolly
Josh, As I’m sure you can well appreciate, these postings take very little time or energy, and constitute a rather derivative passing of a few minutes. In truth, the majority of my day is taken up with reading essays, searching for that flair of comprehension, trying to draw out that student with the “gift”—and of course, trying to encourage those who don’t have “it” as best I can. I suppose some of my daily routine no doubt spills over into my postings. Correcting the popular ignorance is my trade. Perhaps “jhutt” and other such vagrants were even once students of mine, endlessly trialing, but unable to grasp the more subtle uses of grammar, the nuances of a semicolon or a long dash. But I believe my actual motives are rooted elsewhere. I’ve been a loyal reader of Mr. Shepherd’s reviews for over a decade now, dating back to my high school days when I understood nary a fluent phrase or subtle allusion in his work. But I knew there was something there. I knew I was in the presence of something profound—a man who touched the literary in a journalistic (is “genre” the word?) that generally fails to provide any more insight than flash words and pop promotion. Even the more astute writers in the film reviewer pool tend to be creatures of brevity, never giving their opinions time to gestate and evolve. They, like nearly all in the tentacle orbit of Hollywood, are tools of the business itself. Shepherd is a place of intelligent refuge, a master with deft hands composing what I saw as the last sanctuary of cinematic commentary. With Shepherd, I was able to learn—and indeed, I have; I continue to do so. Therefore, I’ve come to be rather defensive of these pages. I freely admit that. Now, whether my contribution is welcomed, or needed, or enjoyed—to be honest, I really don’t care. If I seem a watchdog, so be it. But as I’ve commented before, I will not tolerate ignorance and disrespect. I will not let a setting I’ve come to appreciate so much be tarnished by a minority or a multitude of fools. If they rear their empty heads here, I’m going to make an example of it. Indeed, I much preferred “The Reader” and Mr. Shepherd’s reviews before the grand advent of the online version. I like the substance in my hands; it feels cleaner, fresher—it has a quality and texture. The online world, though I habituate it, always makes me feel subject to the leviathan, especially in the tedious pong of comment sections. The internet for all its graces is an unfortunate place where all (the angels and the apes) can be “published,” can see their name in print and derive a sense of ill-gotten accomplishment. It removes the insulation of talent for the writer, letting far too many dullards believe that they can do it, that their opinions are worth the typing, that their sentences are worth the reading.— January 30, 2009 11:36 a.m.
Wild and Woolly
(And I do apologize to Mr. Shepherd for having reduced his own film watching enjoyment to singularly "masterpieces". I guess I sometimes fall to presumption myself when in a fervor to defend.)— January 29, 2009 9:18 p.m.
Wild and Woolly
Rickey says this. Rickey says that. Rickey says. Rickey says. Rickey says. Odd how some people come to identify themselves by their more pigheaded proclivities. I might wonder from what aching intellectual desperation such people are spawned, but then I suppose I can still remember their stumbling ascent through grade school, middle school, high, and then the gas station—never having graduated or grasped the “elementary.” These were the sorry ones who saw the “end all, say all” of argument resting solely in the blunt force trauma of their tone and vulgarity: “Hmph!” as a universal contention in their debates. In a sense, such ignorance might compel one to believe that a response is not even warranted, that foolishness ought not be given the time of day. But then foolishness unchecked, are like weeds un-rooted. And ignoring (even those most deserving) is the root of “ignor”ance. So, the checklist begins . . . “Blah. Blah. Blah”—a telling translation—not so much of the work in question, but rather of the translator himself. When one listens to brilliance and hears only static, then we have to consider the comprehension of the listener: the child looking in a clueless panic around the classroom at students who “get” the poem—the child who later declares for a lifetime “that book sucks!” And to this, I must concede that there is much truth in Rickey’s first statement. I’m sure the “blah’s” still echo in his mind after reading Mr. Shepherd. But the lacking here is with the mind, not the reading. And then of course, there are the generalities, the declarative iron-on patches of illogic—the staple of any good imbecile. “Unless it’s French”—because France is the height of pretense? or because French sounds like “blah, blah, blah”? or because Rickey can’t understand those movies either? Of course, we know the answer: it’s because “rickeysays”. And then there is “in the basement of the Museum of Fine Art.” I would consider inclusion in such prestigious halls to be a compliment to both the film and the reviewer who commends it; but perhaps that’s why it’s only being shown “in the basement,” or so rickeysays. Finally, while I no doubt will not be able to deter further obstinacy from Rickey and the like, I would make the small request that he refrain from speaking for the movie going public. While I understand that what “rickeysays,” Rickey means, and Rickey-right, and Shepherd-wrong—there do exist those of us in the “anyone considering actually going to a movie” world who value an opinion of expertise over that of the novice grumbler; who find enjoyment in the exercise of our intellects; who appreciate movies because they can inspire such challenging discourse as Shepherd espouses. But perhaps I’m beginning to “ooze.” I have wine to breathe, and cheese to palette, and Godard is about to grace me with a 10-minute tracking shot overlooking French traffic . . . blah, blah, blah, ra-pa-te-ta . . .— January 29, 2009 9:17 p.m.
Favorite Few
I agree that there is a clear distinction between venting frustration and threatening a critic simply for the sake of a review. And I would agree that one is dangerous (the latter) while the former simply comes with the terrain (like flashbulbs for a celebrity). But I think there is a third category here; one that is perhaps not "unsafe", but still inappropriate--and that's insulting the critic. Why, in a movie watcher's blistering sensitivity, must an individual attack a critic (who they have no personal knowledge of) on a personal level? Why must they attack the critic and not the criticism? Why can't they tell the difference? They're capable of complimenting the review on a professional level when they feel vindicated by it. But when they sense a challenge, they resort to juvenile name-calling. If a reader called Shepherd "a beautiful man" or "the love of one's life" for writing a favorable review, we would find uncomfortable fault with it; so then why do tolerate the same kind of personal judgment from the reverse opinion? And are we so sensitive that a review would weather our confidence in our own intelligence so much to need to rip pathetically back at the critic in a vain attempt to win back some sense of robbed dignity? Is our intellectual esteem that fragile? I'm sorry, I just don't buy it. Films, music, literature, painting, etc--aesthetic branches of the same artistic tree. They are indeed unique in expression, but our appreciation ought to be a mutual experience across the artistic expression. If one is a confident person, then he or she should not feel insulted by a disparaging review of a favorite film. To feel so is to belie a problem with self-esteem that might best be settled elsewhere. I thought we were supposed to raise our expectations anticipating the movie, not the review. And yet so often the certain people seem to be waiting in some deadlock of impatient tension for Shepherd to post his weekly review just so they can pounce on it. Well, maybe such people need to to feel stupid; they're behavior often only confirms that they are. Or maybe it's just fine, even perhaps beneficial, to have one's opinions challenged in a "stuffy" manner. But I appreciate your comments and the discussion. Even where we disagree, this has been lively and thoughtful.— January 6, 2009 9:23 p.m.
Favorite Few
To clarify, I completely support people's will to disagree with a critic (or with anyone for that matter); I simply don't accept that most any movie is without question good or bad simply because someone says so. I don't find myself bothered if Ebert enjoys "Anaconda" or if Shepherd gives a zero to "Iron Man". Instead, I do my best to understand the stance of the critic, the perspective he or she is employing to form an opinion. If I can understand it, then I might be swayed. If I cannot, then I duck out of the discussion, or perhaps reread for clarification. But that doesn't make the critic an idiot, and that doesn't make the film necessarily "crappy". Perhaps I'm the idiot for enjoying "Iron Man". Perhaps I missed something in "Congo". But I am certainly the idiot if I tear down the critic simply for stating an opinion that has no effect on me, with the exception of perhaps challenging my perceptions. For instance, Shepherd points out the that the use of the present day Afghanistan conflict in "Iron Man" makes for a muddled narrative composition with the flashy film style and blase attitude of the protagonist, a clash that verges on being offensive to the conflict itself. I wholeheartedly agree with this comment. I never noticed it the first time through. Recognizing it hasn't spoiled my enjoyment of the movie, but it has revealed to me a different way of viewing the film (one that isn't solely based on my enjoyment of it), and I appreciate that. In terms of "pooling friends", I was referring to the frequent remarks I read in which people state "all my friends loved that movie" or "everyone I spoke to agreed that movie was terrible"--as if such surveys were somehow definitive. Popularity does not define a movie's quality outright; in fact, it's often an indication of its lacking. And furthermore, it's not the number of people who agree with you that adds significance to an opinion; it's the intelligent reasoning motivating their agreement. So, until we know why they feel the way they do, the inclusion of "everyone I spoke to" as some sort of support system is rather irrelevant.— January 6, 2009 12:01 p.m.
Favorite Few
In truth, I find myself diverging with Shepherd quite frequently. I found "Bigger, Stronger, Faster" to be emotionally engaging and quite informative. I also found "Iron Man" to be one of my best times at the movies last year. However, I know that neither film was remarkable cinema. I know that the latter especially was no more than popcorn buffoonery, but I enjoyed it. I don't have issue with anyone stating their enjoyment or their distaste for a movie (including Shepherd). I simply object to inaccuracy and personal attack. I've never commented here before the "Dark Knight" fiasco. I merely enjoyed reading the reviews because Shepherd is such a talented writer. I rarely found myself "agreeing" with him, but I was always impressed with his way of expressing his opinion, even when I found it contrary to my own. I also relish the opportunity to disagree with a person and still find myself learning from him or her. I realize that Shepherd reviews for a higher standard. Think of it in terms of artistry. I find real talent in Frank Miller's drawings (and I've greatly enjoyed the films based on them). But I know that Shepherd is only looking for the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts, the Renaissance of the cinematic world. I don't expect or need every film to be a masterpiece. Shepherd does, and I respect that because he's a brilliant thinker. And that's the kind of reviewer that keeps movies insulated from the money machine of Hollywood. However, I was compelled to write once I saw the downright attacks being launched at Shepherd over an unfavorable review of "Dark Knight"--attacks that ultimately just boasted the stupidity of those flinging them. Well, I love opinion and I love intelligent conversations. But I have no tolerance for stupidity, especially a self-chosen stupidity. I don't like seeing the equivalent of hate mail on a publication I respect, in response to a writer I admire. I think such ignorance is unnecessary, and in a larger social sense, quite dangerous. And I'm going to expose these kinds of remarks when I see them. Even comments like "This whole list is typical arty-critic crap" have no place in a serious discussion. They're so stereotypical. They're so simpleminded. They're so useless. So I encourage people to love their favorite films and their favorite critics. I encourage people to disagree and discuss. But be intelligent and respectful when you do. Realize that there are no decidedly "great films", and pooling your circle of friends does not count as evidence. There's just film and opinion. And while there are many things to strive for in film, there's only two in opinion--intelligence and respect, elements that a few of Shepherd's readers need to learn more about from him. And it's these elements, moreso than Shepherd himself, that I'm defending.— January 6, 2009 6:50 a.m.