Skip to main content

Reviewing movies: A Tiny Rant

Movies. What do people talk about?

Did it fail? Did it succeed? Did audiences like it? Was it good?

Okay. Some more "important" questions that are apparently indicators of whether a film is good or not. 

        Did critics like it? 

        How much money did it make?

        What kind of movie is it?

I believe these three questions are some of the most damning ones. 

The Critics

As an audience, we collectively seem to believe what we're told by others on whom we bestow our confidence and trust. But that should never be unwavering belief, never blind trust. Hear what they have to say, sure. But before you form your own judgement, don't you think it's better to at least experience it yourself? Get some first hand data, so to speak?

There have been times when some reviews have left me agape. This review of Disturbed's cover of Simon & Garfunkel's classic Sound of Silence, for instance, is extremely one-sided. If you're a reviewer, at least do the courtesy of pretending to look at both sides of the coin, instead of yelling full tilt about how bad it was for you! And as I've said before, dropping a few names of bands and music genres, with a few music eras and instruments thrown in for good measure, does not a good critique — or critic — make.

Sorry for that rant back there. Kinda out of place, but I guess I have a grouse against unbalanced alleged "reviews".

Anyway, if you're a critic, and you're reviewing a film, you could at least
a) assume that you're not a patron saint who represents the entire universe of audiences.
b) try to be a little balanced in your review, however unbalanced you might think that is. Don't just focus on the bad (or the good), there might be some good (or bad) in there that you might have missed.
c) Don't start judging the film from the first second. "Oh hey, that's a 30-second logo. 30 seconds of my precious life wasted. Let's dock a star." Please, no. I'm not saying wait till the whole film is over to go back and think on it. That might be critic-ally impossible for you. Give the film some time to show you what it wants to say — both its pearls and warts.

Enough with the rant. I'll go find something I can pretend to be productive with.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

bachelor's homecoming

It is late night as I return. The darkness is complete, having taken over the reins from half-hearted twilight. Time has never been a friend; I close the door on a day never to come again. The night begs me to submit —— The empty house, with the stale odour of a dead day leaves no room for choice. I stand on the threshold —— A blank epitaph to an absent presence. I have left time outside the door, and there is nought to do but await the next moment.
4 comments
Read more

lovers' choice

If, in the heat of the day, you come to me, I will say no. If, on a night such as this, which has no meaning, yet must go on, you come to me, I will say no. If, in a moment of hesitation, the truth is bared, and unbeknownst to you, you come in a shroud of lies, I will say no. If, in a gentle embrace, sweet words dripping from your hardened lips, where sits wisdom borne of a practical existence, you come to me, I will say no. I have given much. Love needs to be loved too. I must say no.
3 comments
Read more

viewpoint

It was a Wednesday morning. Sitting in an autorickshaw, waiting at the traffic lights, I was late for office. Constant glances at my watch didn't help abate the tension either. Frustrated, I looked out into the street. There, on the pavement, lay scattered some pieces of glass. Probably shattered from the window of some car, I thought. The rickshaw inched forward, a little, and the glass caught the sun. A flash of light. It was as if the glass had imprisoned the sun's brilliance, and trapped it into a smooth, luminous reflection. The immense light burst forth, enveloping the cruel, jagged edges of the glass in a softness endowed by illuminance. The rickshaw moved another inch. The vision shifted. A rainbow of colours now greeted every eye, but there were none to attend. Drops of colour were held still in an embrace of time, unknown, bizarre colours, one blending into another, so fast they were nothing more than a blur. The cosmos shifted by in that one frozen shaft of time. The...
3 comments
Read more