November 13, 2008
I like to consider myself more of a ‘mood gauger’ than a film critic. And I like to view a movie for the bigger picture. Let me explain….
Back in the 90s I became a writer for the local newspaper in Boston and Cape Cod. It was around the same time that "The Screen Queen" was born. And so I found myself hanging with the local critics in a dark, empty theater at Copley Place - weekday afternoons - while the rest of the world was at their 9-5 job. Sounds glam right? Not really. Often a movie could sour me, ruin my day, zap my energy and sometimes put me to sleep. Or, it could enlighten me; make me want to skip home or feel really good inside. And whether good or bad, I had to sit through the entire thing. It was my job.
But no matter what, I tried to find the good in every movie. Because I knew my audience was depending on me to help them with their entertainment choices. Audiences don't see a movie as some piece of art that has to be scrutinized, but as something to make them happy, sad, emotional, romantic - whatever the desired Saturday night tone might be. And isn’t that what Saturday night movies are all about - grabbing that bucket of popcorn, that soda in the cup holder and the hand of your honey or even your child?
But I noticed something beyond what was showing on the screen. It was my fellow critics that caught my attention. Most of them were men. Most of them were jaded. Most of them were rumpled and looked like they rolled out of bed to make a private screening. And most of them had something in common - they didn’t like feel-good movies. They didn’t like movies unless it had an edge. They loved movies where somebody decent gets dragged through the mud, yet shuttered at something as feel-good as “Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day,” or anything that would describe “chic flick” like, say, “Made of Honor.” They couldn’t see movies outside of their narrow way of thinking. Mostly that narrow way of thinking translated to angry men who wished they were screenwriters instead of being chained to some newspaper cubicle desk.
I can remember saying to a dear colleague – the late, great, David Brudnoy, rest his soul - “Watch this. I can tell you who will like this movie and who won’t.” Sure enough, as the credits rolled, the lights went up, and we walked out of the theatre, we’d listen to the ‘grumbling” of the critics. That’s when I’d turn to David while counting and pointing to “him, him and him” and say “Told you so.”
That’s when I realized that most critics I’ve met have limited personal lives and didn’t possess the skills needed – much like a multi-tasking parent – to review a movie fairly. These men were used to living alone.Upon further study I found out that these men were single, no kids, no cats, no dogs, no mortgages – basically no lives - most of them probably renting a small apartment in the Back Bay. Their biggest dilemma in life was what time to leave the office to make it to the gym before zapping that Stouffers entrée.
I should mention that David wasn’t like that. David was not only a great writer and radio personality, but a man who had been battling cancer and AIDS simultaneously. Without getting into too much detail, David knew the many levels of appreciating life, love, pain and loss; not to mention the desire to live long enough to see another movie.
You see, people go to the movies based on mood. A husband might ask: “What kind of movie are you in the mood for dear?”
Even if I don’t like a movie, I have to find the good in it for the sake of somebody else. I have to like musicals, comedies, dramas, and thrillers. And I have to analyze them while thinking why my mortgage- paying audience wants to pay the cost of a ticket to see them. Certainly if you had a bad week, you may want a silly and entertaining movie like “Run, Fat Boy Run” or “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry,” a movie critics hated and I loved, because I knew how hard my audience would belly-laugh and be entertained. And I've had many a fan letter thanking me for seeing a movie the way another critic didn't. If you had an easy week you may want to stretch your creative mind muscles and bite your nails to “Frozen River” or see something you can take your aunt and grandmother to like “The Secret Lives of Bees.” I bet those male critics don’t think about that…
If I had one wish, it would be that all the mean critics put their angry and adolescent moods on the shelf. Remember you’re reviewing a film not for yourself, but for your audience. You're reviewing for the nurse who had a bad week, worked two shifts, drove the kids to baseball practice, paced all night with her infant daughter who had a fever, and finally found the perfect sexy blouse to wear for her sweetheart on a Saturday night. Finally, they can sit back and relax. Why? Because the babysitter said 'yes.'
I implore you....don't take that away from them....
