Last month, A.O. Scott resigned from his position as a New York Times film critic after more than two decades of service. Moving over to book reviewing instead, Scott’s reasons for leaving film criticism were blunt: he’s dismayed with the current state of the film industry, and he’s weary of fandom’s “anti-democratic, anti-intellectual mindset,” which makes it impossible to give a less than glowing review of a big-budget crowd pleaser without online harassment and accusations of snobbery1 or mysterious payoffs by rival studios2.
It is no longer a critic’s job to thoughtfully analyze a film’s strengths and flaws, but to agree with whatever opinion the audience at large holds, ergo making the critic’s role superfluous. The Rotten Tomatoes “audience score” average is wielded like a cudgel as proof of how often critics supposedly get it wrong, even though said score has been notoriously skewed by bots and trolls seeking to damage a film’s reputation3 before it’s even released.
As proof that Scott was not really exaggerating when he claimed that fan culture is “rooted in conformity, obedience, group identity and mob behavior,” a Reddit post made the rounds in which a highly offended individual posited that film critics should be “banned” (whatever that means), and replaced by A.I. so that movie reviews can be unbiased. As the saying goes, there’s a lot to unpack there, and I don’t have room for all of it. But for starters, there’s the concept of an “unbiased review,” which would be…what? A plot description? Confirmation that the film had sound and was projected on a screen? Who wants an “I don’t know, whatever you want is fine” approach to criticism?
Amusingly (and yet not at the same time), this latest wave of anti-criticism (and they seem to roll in at an ever-increasing clip) came with the release of The Super Mario Bros. Movie, a movie for children about a proud Italian-American plumber who goes to a magical mushroom land to save a princess from forced marriage to a turtle monster. Super Mario Bros. is currently pulling a 57% critics average on Rotten Tomatoes, meaning opinions were split nearly down the middle: some critics enjoyed it, some did not. Nevertheless, a lot of grown adults, many of them with jobs, were incensed that there wasn’t across-the-board high praise for it, even though its brand familiarity and audience-pleasing voice cast ensured that it would be successful even if it scored 0%.
Indeed, not only was Super Mario Bros. successful, it is now, in less than one (1) week of release, one of the most successful animated films of all time. Whatever negative reviews it got meant nothing. Yet, even then, its more ardent fans (again, adults, not the children this movie is targeting) are not satisfied with merely “winning4” – the critics who denigrated it must admit that they were wrong, it’s clearly a masterpiece, and the work that they do is meaningless. But if it’s so meaningless, then who cares in the first place?
I’ve been writing about movies for a very long time. I’ve been doing it semi-professionally (in that it’s not my full-time job) for about five years. While I’d love to have the time and means to leave a bigger footprint in the industry, I’m mostly relieved that I don’t. Neither my positive nor negative reviews get a whole lot of pushback, and when they do, it’s rarely treated as something personal5. I am the smallest of potatoes in an ever-growing field. To a certain extent, the complaints about film critics are not unfounded: many of us (I shan’t name names) are insufferable, and really do seem to take a sadistic pleasure in shredding the kind of movies that average non-cineaste audiences enjoy. Even without the animosity coming from readers, there’s plenty of in-fighting within the community, over who’s supposedly a corporate shill and who isn’t, who’s a “real” critic and who isn’t, and who deserves their success and who doesn’t6.
And yet, at the same time, who gives a shit about any of this? None of it matters. Most of us do this because we like talking about movies, not to impose our opinions on other people. There’s very little real money to be made in it these days, particularly if you’re a freelancer. We have no real power. No movie has ever suffered at the box office because it got a bad review. I’m not sure if the average person who isn’t Extremely Online could even name a professional film critic, other than Roger Ebert7, who died ten years ago.
A long time ago, back in the late 90s, you might have been able to make the case that film pundit turned sex pest Harry Knowles once had some level of power, but he really was a shill, boasting about his friendships with people like Guillermo del Toro, and the VIP treatment he received from various studios in exchange for a positive review. Even then, his reach didn’t extend very far beyond the confines of the internet, and, it’s questionable as to whether or not he ever had a real hand in the success or failure of a major film8. If anything, we can “thank” good ol’ Harry for putting the idea in people’s heads that a good movie critic likes everything, and a bad movie critic only likes some things.
But again, I ask: who cares? Either critics’ opinions matter, or they don’t, both of these things cannot be true simultaneously. Everything Everywhere All at Once came away with an armload of Oscars, so clearly the opinions of the critics who gave it a negative review weren’t taken into consideration. Why was it important that those critics bend the knee and admit that they made a mistake? Movies are fun to debate, but not when it turns into strong-arming people into changing their opinion, particularly in this case when unfounded accusations of racism were brought into it. Some opinions on certain things should lead to disagreement, such as abortion rights or whether a child should be allowed to learn that gay people exist. But movies? There are thousands released every year. Who cares if someone who means nothing to you feels differently about one than you? It does not matter.
Let me clear: I loved Everything Everywhere. It was one of my favorite movies of 2022. Nevertheless, it is bizarre that a cult has formed around this fun little film in which two people get into a dildo fight. It’d be funny if not for the fact that said cult orchestrates attacks on anyone who dares to step out of line and say they didn’t like it, using the same tactics as people who call supporters of trans rights “groomers.” It’s weird, and very unsettling. We’ve all lost our minds, and can no longer even mildly disagree on anything without going into “destroy” mode, so why seek it out? Stop listening to critics if you think our opinions don’t mean anything. We’re just out here trying to exist. You don’t have to listen to a damn word we say.
It’s interesting to note that, despite the long-held belief that professional film critics are pretentious and out of touch with what the average filmgoer enjoys, most of Scott’s picks for best film of the year have been pretty mainstream, including Wall-E, Bridesmaids, and Nope.
Giving something a positive review will also sometimes result in accusations of payoffs, but that’s usually reserved for things like Captain Marvel and Birds of Prey.. I’ll let you figure out what those have in common.
Such films have included Captain Marvel and Birds of Prey. I’ll let you figure out what those have in common.
The same way that an Astros fan “won” the World Series, in that they didn’t do anything at all.
One of the notable exceptions happened a few years ago when I wrote an article merely speculating on why Tim Burton and Johnny Depp haven’t worked together recently, which resulted in my name being mud for a few days amongst Depp’s fans. I eventually muted “Johnny Depp” on Twitter, which, considering what lay ahead, was really the best decision I could have made.
The simple explanation of which is “Anyone I like deserves their success, and anyone I don’t like doesn’t.”
And Roger Ebert, who gave positive reviews to The Happening, Anaconda, and Speed 2: Cruise Control, was hardly anyone’s idea of a pretentious, out-of-touch critic.
Knowles infamously gave Godzilla, one of the worst movies of the 90s, a glowing review after being flown to the premiere. Though it made back its budget and then some, Godzilla was ultimately a box office disappointment, and plans for a trilogy were almost immediately scrapped. So Knowles’ positive review had the same impact as negative reviews of Super Mario Bros.: absolutely none.