Whistling in the Dark

Why, one gets asked, persist in writing film criticism when there are so few good movies around? For the critic, the answer is simple: like the collector of any other rarity, he cannot worry about the elusiveness of the ideal find. If he does not hit upon the perfect movie this week, month, year—no matter: there have been interesting near-misses all along the way. And, unlike other collectors, the critic can publish his pleasures and displeasures and hope that in some small, unmeasurable way they might contribute to the making of better movies. Or, at least, clear the ground of rubble, and prepare the terrain and climate, so that the better things to come may gain a foothold and receive the necessary support.

And are there signs of minimal improvement? Has the ground been passably cleared of rubbish? I am not sure, but we should always consider how much worse yet the situation could be if the critic were not around, doggedly resisting craven compromise—a watchdog against pollution, a truffle-dog ferreting out the rare delicacies. If someone decided to evaluate the current movie scene from the main attractions in New York today, he would certainly not conclude that the taste of filmmakers and moviegoers has been appreciably raised. Yet should the critic’s fight be a losing one, that would not make it either unjust or unnecessary; it may even be that the lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for.

JS

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John Simon

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Why, one gets asked, persist in writing film criticism when there are so few good movies around? For the critic, the answer is simple: like the collector of any other rarity, he cannot worry about the elusiveness of the ideal find. If he does not hit upon the perfect movie this week, month, year—no matter: there have been interesting near-misses all along the way. And, unlike other collectors, the critic can publish his pleasures and displeasures and hope that in some small, unmeasurable way they might contribute to the making of better movies. Or, at least, clear the ground of rubble, and prepare the terrain and climate, so that the better things to come may gain a foothold and receive the necessary support.

And are there signs of minimal improvement? Has the ground been passably cleared of rubbish? I am not sure, but we should always consider how much worse yet the situation could be if the critic were not around, doggedly resisting craven compromise—a watchdog against pollution, a truffle-dog ferreting out the rare delicacies. If someone decided to evaluate the current movie scene from the main attractions in New York today, he would certainly not conclude that the taste of filmmakers and moviegoers has been appreciably raised. Yet should the critic’s fight be a losing one, that would not make it either unjust or unnecessary; it may even be that the lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for.