The Reviews Are In!

The main problem with film reviews — as far as I’m concerned — is that they tend to be abused by people trying to promote the films. Filmmakers and film reviewers are locked in an unhealthy symbiotic relationship like sharks and remoras, lichens and trees, and American Idol judges and contestants. It’s a bloodsucking relationship in which the hardworking filmmakers are remorselessly drained by the reviewers. Or is it the other way ‘round?

Honestly, it’s tough to tell sometimes.

The poor reviewer has to give up a couple of valuable hours sitting through whatever muck the producers manage to get to stick to the screen and then has to spend another hour or two using a thesaurus to find just the right adjectives for “loathsome”, “nauseating”, and “yucky.” After pounding out a masterpiece (and getting it past the editor and legal department more-or-less intact) the reviewer releases his wisdom to the world. Where it is immediately mangled, mishandled, and abused by the motion picture community.

No matter what the reviewer actually said, with a little moxie and a few spare periods they happened to have laying around, the marketing department can make any review sound positive. For example, if a reviewer said, “ This was one of the…films I’ve seen… Nothing would please me more than to see the film…again, and again, and again” you might think he really enjoyed the movie.

Except, those little dots between the words are like scars where the marketing folks surgically removed some of the original meaning. The actual review read, “This was one of the most violent, disturbing, and shocking films I’ve seen in a long time. Nothing would please me more than to see the film reels, shooting script, and residual checks piled into a large heap and burned again, and again, and again.”

Personally, I’ve resorted to using the ellipses rating scale to judge movies. The more dots there are in the ad quotes, the less likely I am to see the film. I aggressively avoid films with reviews like “A…real…ly…gr…ate…film.”

The second biggest problem with film reviews is that they are written by film reviewers.

Really.

Despite what you might have heard, reviewers are human beings. Just like anyone who is a semi-professional communicator (including humorists), reviewers work from a particular viewpoint that influences their perspective on the world. What might appear to be a harmless film to most people, might seem like a dangerous piece of propaganda to a reviewer. Someone with a particular agenda might describe the family classic Snow White with the words, “Aided by a band of forest-dwelling rogues, a vain girl usurps the rightful queen and ascends to power.” A kinder, gentler, and more accurate description would read, “Aided by a band of forest-dwelling rogues and a handsome prince, a vain girl usurps the rightful queen and ascends to power.”

A careful reading of most reviews tells you a lot more about the reviewer than the movie.

“While there were moments of attempted greatness in the film, particularly as related to the subtext vis-a-vis the nature vs. nurture debate, I felt that the performances were consistently lacking in depth. The only bright spot in the entire cast was the chimp. Therefore, I can only give Bedtime for Bonzo one opposable thumb up.”

Words like these practically scream out-of-work film professor or frustrated director. This is a guy who never met a film he didn’t hate and wants to make you feel bad because you’re not smart enough to understand why the film isn’t good.

At the opposite end of the scale is the nice guy who is on a one-man mission to rebuild the film’s self-esteem.

“While it would be easy to criticize Plan 9 From Outer Space for its few, incredibly-minor flaws, the truth is we owe Ed Wood, the cast and crew a debt of thanks for ninety minutes of solid entertainment. The performances are so earnest, you cannot deny the film has a big heart.”

This is the critical equivalent of patting the puppy when it makes a puddle on the kitchen floor. The reviewer might feel good about himself, but he’s just encouraging a repeat performance from the film-making puppy.

Another excessively-enthusiastic reviewer is the one who rates a movie based on high-tech, gee-whiz moments and the number of explosions between the opening and closing credits. These guys can tell you all about the weapons used in the film, but can rarely tell you what the story was about. Which is probably just as well because the films they love the most are long on dynamite and blasting caps and short on character and plot.

Fortunately, the reviewers mostly concern themselves with entertainment products like books, games and movies. I’m not sure I could stand it if they turned their attention on me.

“In Happily Domesticated Kevin Cummings presents himself as an ordinary guy living an ordinary life in an ordinary neighborhood and this very John Hughes-like ordinariness makes it difficult for us to identify with him as a character. Wasn’t he ever told that interesting characters are larger-than-life characters like spies and adventurers and successful investment bankers?”

What if my boss took the phrase “performance review” literally?

“A Year At My Desk was a lighthearted and occasionally entertaining romp through the world of business. Kevin filled the role of leading man nicely, but never seemed to rise above the material and on several occasions (particularly when he was out of the office) seemed to be phoning in his performance. In the planned sequel Another Year Same Desk, I hope to see Kevin build on this year’s performance and hit the production quotas for all four quarters.”

And if my wife wrote a review? Well, she takes her cue from the ego-reinforcing school of reviewing and it makes me shiver every time she tells me that she cannot deny that I have a big heart.