4 Words Critics Just Don't Understand
One of the reasons I began writing these articles was because I noticed a missing perspective. So many Oscar movies were getting by without criticism and so many blockbusters were being unfairly punished for not being huge bummers. Being that this is the 23 day anniversary of the launch of Film Dunce Files, I felt now was the time to release the kraken of discontent. Also there was no news to talk about. That being said, here are the 4 biggest issues I have with critics.
1. Deep
This is one of those things that generally means the opposite. When a critic hails a movie as "deep" or "thought-provoking" it's almost always a very surface level experience. Also, it tends to be a huge bummer. Lots of historical movies fall into the "deep" category, especially when they're movies about history's biggest tragedies. Once again, I'm not saying these movies aren't important or great, they're just not really that deep.
Let's look at 2014's 12 Years a Slave, because it's almost been an entire week since somebody hated me for something I wrote. While being a very well-made, gut-wrenching film about the realities of slavery, that's pretty much all it was. There's no digging deeper into the movie to find the hidden meaning, it's just "slavery was horrible", the end. And that's kind of the point. Rather than getting bogged down with too many messages, 12 Years a Slave had one thing to say and it said it very clearly.
Yet upon its release, critics praised it as a "thought-provoking movie about the human experience" because of course they did. The movie is basically a guilt-machine for white people, which is something we desperately need. Because of this, everyone wanted to sing all the praises they could for it, even the ones it didn't really earn. It would be like complimenting an Italian chef by telling him the meatballs were very tangy.
That's the real reason this and so many other movies are called "deep". Critics just want to compliment something, and "deep" sounds like a good thing. But this does such a disservice to movies that actually are deep but just not as dark. It also does a disservice to movies that are intentionally onenote. They only played one note, and you didn't even listen to it. Shame on you.
2. Emotional/Range/Emotional Range
Once again, the bummers win here. When critics praise an actor for having "incredible emotional range" they really just mean he was sad or angry a lot. Push this out to the story as a whole and an "emotional story" is actually just a very sad one. To be fair, sadness is an emotion, it's just that saying something with one emotion is emotional is like saying an orange is colorful. It's not colorful, it's just orange.
My example is the film that would be Best Picture, the Revenant. This movie was from frame one all the way till then end. Every time I bring up what a tremendous bummer this movie is, I always bring up the same scene where Leo catches snowflakes on his tongue. But I always bring up that specific moment, because the entire rest of the film is just a huge bummer.
And this is the role that finally won Leo his Oscar. Congratulations, you've earned it with your stellar emotional range. You went all the way from saliva-projecting sadness to saliva-projecting anger. That's like moving from blue to purple on the color wheel, a feat not everyone could pull off.
Another winner actually won with some emotional range this year, Brie Larson for Room. Room is a perfect showcase of the entire emotional spectrum. She's happy, she's sad, she's angry, she's scared, she's disgusted; and that covers the entire spectrum of emotions according to Pixar. That's a 100% grade, A+. Leo's got two. I checked the tape, and he's not scared when getting attacked by a bear, or watching his son get murdered, he's just angry. That's a 40% grade, F. But hey, he really did eat a horse's liver. Wasn't that deep?
3. Characters
Stepping out of bummer territory for a bit, let's look at some great "characters". Or more specifically, some mediocre characters with good dialogue. That's right, it's time to hit Quentin Tarantino's extremely fragile ego. I'm a little worried that I might hurt his feelings, I know he lacks self-confidence. That's a joke.
But why shouldn't the man be confident? He's written so many amazing characters. Think about your favorite Tarantino character. Is it the one who's extremely cool, vengeful, and says the F-word a lot, or the one who's extremely cool, vengeful, and says the F-word a lot? Personally, I like the one who's extremely cool, vengeful and says the F-word a lot. My point being, Tarantino's "characters" are just Tarantino wearing a different mask, and that his real talent is dialogue.
The example this time is The Hateful Eight, a movie some people thought was wrongfully snubbed for best original screenplay. If you're not a die-hard Tarantino fan, that 3 hour movie was an infuriating experience; especially with a 20 minute intermission. A long movie is fine, if you there are interesting characters that keep your interest. But if it's just the cast of Pulp Fiction in western clothes, that's not going to work. Actually, that's not fair to Pulp Fiction, a movie where characters make decisions and things happen. The Hateful Eight is a collection of people with no motivations, aspirations, and interesting characteristics to speak of. Then they proceed to do nothing.
Seriously, at the time the movie breaks, there is no more conflict between the characters. Sam Jackson shot the racist guy, and nobody has made any intention of messing up Kurt Russell's plan. Keep in mind, this is after an hour and a half, or the length of a normal movie has gone by. I wasn't on the edge of my seat, dying to know what came next; I was slouched in the back of it, deciding whether or not to ask for a refund and just leave. Spoilers: I didn't, and spoilers again: the movie doesn't get that much better.
A character isn't just a mouthpiece for a clever line. This is the biggest problem with those that aspire to be Tarentino. They don't understand that characters need desires, histories, futures, skills, and flaws and instead just have them quote Bible verses and shoot people. Yet as long as critics keep praising clever lines as strong characters, aspiring screenwriters will never know the difference.
4. Mature
We close with movie maturity, and will thusly be talking about some very mature movies... that I loved in middle school. Filthy, raunchy, violent, and foul have all become synonymous with "mature". According to the video game rating system, "mature" means adults only. But if you've ever actually played Call of Duty: Modern Black Ops at War 3, you know that the "mature" rating doesn't keep a 7-year-old from shooting you in the head and calling your mother horrible things.
Surprise! It's the same in movies. When a critic says a movie is doing a more "mature" take on some subject matter, they really just mean R-rated and gratuitous. These are things that middle school Phil was very excited for. Movies like 300, Watchmen, or Dawn of the Dead really hit the spot with their blood, butts, and swearing. Coincidentally, these are all movies directed by Zack Snyder. Huh, is he doing anything nowadays? Oh right, he's making the "mature" Batman V. Superman: Spring Break Smackdown.
Considering both Man of Steel and BvS are both PG-13, maybe Snyder lost all the sophomoric naughtiness and actually focused on telling a story for adults...? Nope. He just took out all the jokes, painted everything blue/yellow, and said "I'm a big kid now." If you don't know what I mean about blue/yellow, look up the trailer for any of the Snyder movies, or the "grown-up" version of Fantastic Four that bombed last year. Notice anything? Almost every shot of those trailers is blue or yellow. Because those are grown-up colors.
The reason Zack thinks these things make his movies "mature" is the same reason middle school Phil thought they were "mature"; that's what we've been told. When you're a pre-adolescent boy, or have the mind of one, you really want to feel mature. You want to understand the dirty jokes before your friends do. You want to dress in dark colors, and be super serious. You want to make everything super gritty and violent because your parents don't understand you and Beth is going to the dance with Greg even though he doesn't even listen to her.
But here's a secret I wish someone would have told me when I was in middle-school: trying to be mature makes you look like an angry middle-schooler. Instead, just figure out what your story is really about. Is it a simple story about the harsh reality of history? Great, don't overcomplicate it. Then round out your characters. I'm guessing you know why they're angry/sad, but what makes them happy? That's where the story needs to go. Had I learned these lessons earlier, I feel I could've made much more progress as a writer. Hopefully it's not too late for you Zack, I believe in you. Go get 'em, champ.