Be it online or in print, it is disheartening to see that journalists and bloggers have largely failed to engage with 'action' films in a consistently serious or considered manner.
It seems a number of misapprehensions are at work here:
- That visceral and intellectual experiences are mutually exclusive
- That the visceral is somehow inferior to the intellectual
- That all action films are essentially the same
- That the more money spent on a production the less thought has gone into it.
These attitudes are clear in the language of recent reviews and discussions of blockbuster films. A quick glance reveals the same narrow, empty descriptions ('big- budget popcorn flick'), the same snide kiss-offs ('mindless entertainment') and the same backhanded compliments ('for what it is, it's perfectly effective').
An unconscious suggestion is that action films are disposable and homogeneous . Why would an action film often be described as a 'slice' of entertainment if it were not considered another hunk hewn off a vast faceless edifice, as if the action film were the brainlessly destructive monster from Cloverfield and each example of the genre the scuttling crabs that fall from its body.
By that token all French and Italian Cinema of the 1960s could be dismissed as a uniform parade of love affairs, with lust, jealousy and guilt on repeat.
Action films, films with an emphasis on the spectacular, bear as much scrutiny as any other. If something is louder it doesn't follow that it has less to say. Every film has a subtly unique fingerprint, an atmosphere, an identity all of its own and every film has seven billion versions. Good critics are open-minded and therefore they can open minds, yet many are complicit in the narrowing of the genre.*
Far too often films are not taken on their own terms. If ideas, characters and situations change organically people cry foul:
"It's not a Die Hard film"
"It's not a Terminator film"
Expectations, when it comes to franchises in particular, can be code for 'more of the same please'. I believe that the poor reception received by The Phantom Menace was partially due to the fact that it wasn't a copy of the Original Trilogy - frozen in carbonite and thawed out twenty years on. But why should it be?
Essays on action films rarely go beyond studies of the male image or tenuous political parallels. If one allows oneself to look deeper, there is much to admire in recent examples of the action blockbuster and much to excite our hearts and minds. There are so many things that set them apart not only from each other but from films of all kinds. Here are only a few observations:
Superman Returns
This is a film replete with religious iconography whose fabric is imbibed with the conundrum of God as Man. When Superman is taken into the hospital he goes into a theatre called "Trauma 1". When the automatic doors close, we see this reversed (click to enlarge)
On the door it now reads: I AMUART. I am you are. We are made in God's image. All that he is we can be. When Lois and Richard save Superman from the ocean, the circle of saviour and saved is complete.
The Matrix Revolutions
Neo fights multiple Agent Smiths in the pouring rain while the machines swarm into Zion. When he gains victory, at the expense of his own life, the machines
stop and withdraw. Peace is gained and the machines and their barbaric metallic tentacles are miraculously transformed into a wondrous and tranquil shoal, floating up into the sky.This is one of the most poetic and elegantly succinct images of peace I have encountered in a film.
Star Trek XI
This is an age where love stories on film are rarely love stories at all. They tend to be either unbearably sleazy or weak, diluted and overly sentimental. The relationship between Uhura and Spock is portrayed as delicate, strong and profound.
Live Free or Die Hard
Shortly after one of the hacker's houses is blown apart the quasi-subliminal image of a young woman appears (left). It lasts just a couple of frames but resonates further. Is she his girlfriend? His wife? His sister?Live Free or Die Hard is full of men who have lost women because of what they do and the dangerous paths they choose. Gabriel loses Mai. John has lost Holly and is on the brink of losing Lucy. The Warlock hides himself in his basement and barely communicates with his mother.
It is ironic that Lucy becomes interested in Matt only when he takes on the proactive, macho, violent characteristics that have already estranged her father from her mother.
Mission Impossible: 3
A quite beautifully constructed and choreographed action scene takes place half an hour in.
The team is involved in a helicopter chase and the enemy is firing missiles at them as they try to escape. The chase takes place in a wind-farm and the slow-turning blades are potentially fatal obstacles. On board one of their number is on the brink of death, and Ethan tries to save her. Meanwhile another member, Zhen falls out of the door and clings for her life.
These four dangers converge and disperse in a masterful and fully believable display of tension and emotion.
Cloverfield
The catalyst for the narrative in Cloverfield is the budding coupling of main protagonist Rob and Beth.
The monster arrives (dropping into the ocean in the distance) on the very day they get together as a proper couple. The monster makes itself known in the city just as Rob is voicing his concerns about moving to Japan and leaving Beth. The monster's fate is decided in a hail of gunfire at the same time as Rob and Beth finally declare their love for each other.
The monster is a manifestation of Rob's growing fear. He is going to Japan and the Japanese are well-known as pioneers of the city-invading monster. This is not coincidence.
Cloverfield is a dance to the death with Rob's insecurities. This makes the final declarations not just a sweet and touching coda but an open question: Has he conquered his fears and does love conquer all?
*which in itself is merely a symptom of the persisting view that something can be objectively great (and learned critics are conveniently the best placed to pass final judgement) and that feelings ('I don't like it') should be separated from impersonal thoughts ('but it's clearly a great work').
This is chasing a ghost, a phantom objectivity. One such is the critic Mick LaSalle who states:
"...after a screening of THE NEW WORLD, I said that it's perfectly OK for viewers not to like the movie, but that it's totally not acceptable for a film critic to say it's not a good movie, because it's a masterpiece, and to say otherwise is more or less to announce yourself as obtuse"
This is a profoundly wrong-headed attempt to pin down the inherently incorporeal nature of art and catalogue it under science.
A provocative post. I'd submit a few points, briefly: 1) Just because a film engages with a certain topic or theme, does not mean it's done so well. The trick is not merely to make an allegory but to make one that works on multiple levels. Mind you, this doesn't mean an action film/blockbuster can't be analyzed seriously - just that such an analysis need not include a positive value judgement.
ReplyDelete2) "the persisting view that something can be objectively great"
I strongly believe something can be objectively great - objective in the sense of agreed-upon, reasonable standards of judgement (which is all objectivity ever is anyway). Otherwise, what is the point of criticism? A poorly assembled local TV commercial is no better or worse from Citizen Kane. All is relative. No thank you!
The point is not to separate feeling from impersonal thought but to try to ascertain what the highest feeling possible is in relation to the work of art, and how much of this the work itself evokes and how much is brought to it irrespective of the work's qualities. We are not "perfect machines" but we can strive to understand what various works have to offer and how they endeavor to offer it. Otherwise, all values, judgements and reactions dissolve into a meaningless puddle of mush.
"Just because a film engages with a certain topic or theme, does not mean it's done so well. The trick is not merely to make an allegory but to make one that works on multiple levels."
ReplyDeleteI was talking about the fact that critics refuse to even open their eyes and look. My observations were of things that I didn't see discussed. There was no judgment of textual depth = good (though the more there is in a film, the more interesting it is likely to be).
"I strongly believe something can be objectively great - objective in the sense of agreed-upon, reasonable standards of judgement (which is all objectivity ever is anyway). Otherwise, what is the point of criticism? A poorly assembled local TV commercial is no better or worse from Citizen Kane. All is relative. No thank you!"
A critic can only ever give his own thoughts and feelings about the particular work. I believe the point of criticism is to discuss, analyse and share not to build a totem at whose foot all must worship.
Surely criticism is richer as a forum of shifting patterns of perspectives rather than a mission to establish a consensus that would be a compromise of all views.
The local TV commercial you mention is obviously worse than Citizen Kane because it is "poorly assembled". Prejudice and snobbery this way lies, which is exactly my point about engaging with everything honestly.
I don't see the problem with nothing being objectively great or poor. The way I feel is more than enough without need for outside or higher validation.
By the way, Citizen Kane I think is probably the premier example of something that has been made great through a cold-eyed appraisal of its technical 'qualities'. For me, the technique was weak because it conveyed nothing beyond its own presence.
P.S. Would you mind if I posted a link to your site / one of your reviews?
Stephen,
ReplyDeleteThanks for your response. I agree inasmuch as if a critic is going to discuss a film, he/she might as well engage with it fully instead of just brushing it off.
As for the second point, I know it is not something everyone agrees with me on, but I stand by my conviction that without any sense of objectivity, criticism loses its purpose and all value judgements lose any ground. As for prejudice and snobbery, they lie the way of IGNORING something, not engaging with it "honestly" and then coming to the "honest" conclusion that it is poorly assembled, and that this hurts its potential quality. Craftsmanship, among many other factors, is something that exists - it should not necessarily be given weight to the exclusion of all other factors but a truly "honest" appraisal of any work will take it into account. Works don't just pop up before us on the screen, they are created, and their creators labor to ensure that they make effective decisions in their making. Since the creators don't assume that anything they do will turn out fine, why should we?
Also, the removal of critical standards does not leave a vaccuum in which everyone's opinion is of equal value. It leaves commercial considerations - the hard, cold reality of financial success as the "last man standing." Suddenly, popularity, rather than quality, becomes the determining factor in a movie's worth. So when we speak of banishing "objectivity" we should be aware of what we're leaving the field open for.
Canonical exercises are, of course, guessing games, or rather estimates. I don't think any one person has a complete hold on truth. But when a number of people, who make it their business to be well-informed about film history and technique and to be open-minded about the power and effect of various films, venture an opinion, attempt to back their views up, and compose their own canons, a kind of mass, conglomerated canon can emerge.
That's where I see critical analysis becoming valuable - when a number of voices declare their preferences and attempt to explain these preferences. The "objectivity" I'm interested in is not cold-eyed appraisal of technique, though I think that MUST play a part in analysis (again, the work that goes into something deserves to be considered). It's a POSSIBLE emotional reaction, a POSSIBLE visceral engagement with the work which the critic or viewer should do their best to discover. Knowledge of other people's reactions, and reasons for said reactions, can facilitate this process.
Citizen Kane is a movie I saw when I was quite young, and I didn't even notice the technical qualities because I was so wrapped up in the story and characters. Today I appreciate the ways in which technique facilitates this involvement in the story, but initially this was not necessary for me to enjoy the film. Just to show that perhaps the film has NOT been made great solely through cold appraisals...
"Would you mind if I posted a link to your site / one of your reviews?"
Of course not!
"Suddenly, popularity, rather than quality, becomes the determining factor in a movie's worth"
ReplyDeleteMust there be a general, agreed-upon conclusion as to something's 'worth'? Why can't a film be all things to all men?
"But when a number of people, who make it their business to be well-informed about film history and technique and to be open-minded about the power and effect of various films, venture an opinion, attempt to back their views up, and compose their own canons, a kind of mass, conglomerated canon can emerge."
This objective canon is of course a collection of subjectives.
It is when this canon starts to be more than an interesting exercise and turns into setting pseudo-truths down in stone that the problems begin.
I find it worrying when people separate their favourite films from the ones they consider to be the best. What other factors can one take into consideration beyond one's own emotional/intellectual response?
My problem is not with analysing technique or craft but with subjugating one's own response to other people's pre-arranged criteria. Citizen Kane may have been innovative and technically complex but if it does not serve to enhance my experience, so what? Technique without the end-effect is bad technique.
It is no good when the public feel embarrassed about what they like because it doesn't chime with critical opinion. Why should there be 'guilty pleasures'?
I don't know if I'm being clear, but thank you for the comments.
There's a lot to be said here but down the line I'm hoping for a full-fledged essay which addresses questions of objectivity vs. subjectivity, greatness vs. favoritism in depth so I'll keep it brief for the moment.
ReplyDeleteAs such, I won't talk about the "pseudo-truths in stone" argument though I have disagreements with the anti-canonical stance; instead, I'll focus on the notion of separating great from favorites.
One's reaction to a work of art/entertainment is not monolithic or singular - mine certainly isn't. Basing an assessment of a work purely on one's own visceral reaction is like building a house on quicksand. The number of times I've changed my opinion of a film, responded one time and not another, seen new things I hadn't noticed before tells me that there's something else going on here besides just the momentary reaction. Is something a great movie one day, and not another? Is The Godfather no longer a masterpiece if I'm in a restless mood when I watch it one night? Without any recourse to objective standards, film-talk becomes little more than "hey, look at my private collection" which is fun (I've certainly indulged in such exercises from time to time) but hardly the be-all, end-all.
Consider it a Platonic argument: there exists an "ideal" way to watch a movie and if one is a critic, or even just someone who loves film and wants to know more about the medium, one should strive to understand that "ideal." No, we'll never reach it but we can come closer and build understanding and appreciation in the process (not to mention, increase our own subjective reaction - by taking others' opinions into account and watching films from "new angles" I've discovered new favorites where I hadn't seen them before.) Favoritism is ever-changing and based on elements that are often extrinsic to the movie: if I'm more interested in the subject of Film A than Film B, I'll probably "enjoy" Film A but that will have nothing to do with the quality of either.
By the way, a movie like Citizen Kane does have an end-effect (unwittingly, you're using an "objective"-sounding argument here) YOU didn't see it, but I certainly did, which is why I love the movie. Relativity has its limits, and before long people are asserting absolutes again under its guise, only this time standing on ground that's much less firm.
I also come from the standpoint of the creative side, having dabbled in a little low-to-the-ground, short-form filmmaking myself. Knowing all the effort and decision-making that goes into the process even on that small scale, it seems self-defeating to disregard any attempt at objective analysis of the results, abandonging the judgement what was achieved by what was attempted. This isn't the only mode of analysis, and certainly great movies have emerged IN SPITE OF what on behind the scenes, but it is something that should be taken into consideration.
Subjectivity is quicksand, but it is a clue toward "objectivity" and should be used as such. (That's not to say there isn't a place for sheer enjoyment as well, but I don't think it should be confused with criticism or analysis.)
"Is something a great movie one day, and not another? Is The Godfather no longer a masterpiece if I'm in a restless mood when I watch it one night?"
ReplyDeleteThe short answer must be yes. A film has life. Of course it changes as times and people change. A work has to be filtered through something.
"Without any recourse to objective standards, film-talk becomes little more than "hey, look at my private collection" which is fun (I've certainly indulged in such exercises from time to time) but hardly the be-all, end-all."
Not at all. I was only talking about the personal vs consensus - nothing to do with visceral vs intellectual; merely 'me' and 'all of you'. Film-talk is richer if it seeks not a vanishing point for its varied perspectives but moves outwards and accepts the multiplicity of views.
"Consider it a Platonic argument: there exists an "ideal" way to watch a movie and if one is a critic, or even just someone who loves film and wants to know more about the medium, one should strive to understand that "ideal."
Surely a successful film would create in you the right mood, take you where it needs to. I've started plenty of films in the wrong mood and ended up being seduced.
"Favoritism is ever-changing and based on elements that are often extrinsic to the movie: if I'm more interested in the subject of Film A than Film B, I'll probably "enjoy" Film A but that will have nothing to do with the quality of either."
I don't agree at all. I don't 'like' ballet as a form yet watching one particular dancer, the best there is, makes me like it. Excellence does that. Favouritism is ever-changing and what one 'enjoys' as a personality is changed by what one watches. It is a two-way street.
"Knowing all the effort and decision-making that goes into the process even on that small scale, it seems self-defeating to disregard any attempt at objective analysis of the results, abandonging the judgement what was achieved by what was attempted"
It is always intriguing to study the space between what was attempted and what was achieved. However, an A for effort doesn't mean that much in the end.
"Subjectivity is quicksand, but it is a clue toward "objectivity" and should be used as such. (That's not to say there isn't a place for sheer enjoyment as well, but I don't think it should be confused with criticism or analysis.)"
You misunderstand. You seem to think I equate subjectivity and favouritism with enjoyment. You separate enjoyment from criticism and analysis and the heart from the mind. I do neither.
Subjectivity is all we can be sure of. Yes, it changes with every day but this is only an issue
if one wants 'objectivity'. I don't believe this can be achieved, is needed or indeed desirable. It's a phantom, less concrete than any subjective, as I have explained over previous posts.
Hmmm, well, this could go on for a while, but I'll bite.
ReplyDelete1. "The short answer must be yes. A film has life. Of course it changes as times and people change. A work has to be filtered through something."
This then renders the term "great" rather meaningless. Do you think it should be avoided, and replaced with something else? By the way, what kind of "life" are you talking about? I'm not speaking about movies which seem less relevant or effective over time, but how all movies fluctuate in our own personal appreciation. One moment it works, one moment it doesn't, then it works again. The movie hasn't changed, I have. To use our momentary subjective response as the gold standard seems to me to devalue everything.
2. "Not at all. I was only talking about the personal vs consensus - nothing to do with visceral vs intellectual; merely 'me' and 'all of you'. Film-talk is richer if it seeks not a vanishing point for its varied perspectives but moves outwards and accepts the multiplicity of views."
If there is no common ground, however, such multiplicity becomes mere chaos. The kind of film-talk I seek, and the kind I think most valuable, seeks a balance between objectivity and subjectivity. I like to think of it as a well - clear boundaries, but infinite depths. Without any shared values or established truths, human speech becomes gibberish. Keep in mind, that we may agree more than you think, even though our terms differ. A vanishing point suggests a narrowing; I prefer to think of a mass canon as a bubble which can expand and grow and mutate but still has a boundary which gives everything a sort of reference and structure, albeit a very loose one.
"Surely a successful film would create in you the right mood, take you where it needs to. I've started plenty of films in the wrong mood and ended up being seduced."
Me too. And I've started plenty of others in the wrong mood and NOT been seduced, or seduced later. A successful film will NOT always create in me the right mood because I'm not a perfect viewing instrument. I once watched La Dolce Vita in the afternoon, and it did nothing for me. I re-watched it that night, and was captivated. It was "successful" for me at one time, and "unsuccessful" another. How do I reconcile these two contradictory experiences? By privileging one over the other, and investigating the reasons why I do so. That's the objectivity I speak of, seeking a constant, a set of values, flexible, open to questioning, but nonetheless firm enough that I don't float from one opinion to another based solely on impulse and my own pesonal hang-ups. If I had returned La Dolce Vita to the video store that afternoon would it have remained an "unsuccessful" film? The problem with some of your arguments is that you still use objective-sounding words to subjective ends: this is a problem with relativism in general. It doesn't disregard the universal, it merely asserts the personal AS universal, which seems to me to make less sense that any flawed notions of the universal.
"I don't agree at all. I don't 'like' ballet as a form yet watching one particular dancer, the best there is, makes me like it. Excellence does that. Favouritism is ever-changing and what one 'enjoys' as a personality is changed by what one watches. It is a two-way street."
ReplyDeleteThere are a few problems with this line of thought. a) It only applies to the cream of the crop, so you may appreciate the excellence (there's an objective word again) of the best ballerina, but feel that an inferior but still strong performer, a medicore one, and a horrible one are all the same, since you are indifferent to the form. Such indifference is your right, but it says nothing about the art, only about you, which, to my thinking, still leaves plenty of room for an objective assessment. b) You're still presupposing a kind of perfection of experience; my whole point about the "ideal" is that it must exist because I DON'T always have the optimal reaction. I've been left cold by the "best" only to discover its value later, or to have it grow on me over time. But I only invest the time and energy BECAUSE I believe my subjective enjoyment in the moment is not the be-all, end-all.
(I'll conclude this post momentarily.)
Moving on...
ReplyDelete"It is always intriguing to study the space between what was attempted and what was achieved. However, an A for effort doesn't mean that much in the end."
More or less agreed; the A would not be for effort but for what was achieved. My only point is that unlike nature, creationist arguments aside, art is intelligently designed. Mind you, I'm not saying artistic intent should bypass viewing the work as its own entity, nor that the artist is completely conscious of what he or she ends up achieving. Just that to COMPLETELY disregard what was being attempted seems to me dangerous ground, and threatens to reduce film analysis to the purely abstract and academic. A healthy engagement and/or awareness of the physical process of making films is needed to maintain perspective and flesh out analysis. And also I mean to ask: if all that matters is an individual's impulsive response to art, which is recognized as being arbitrary and unique, why all the work that goes in to them? Purely the commercial imperative? Purely self-expression? Is the audience an afterthought - and, on the other end, is the author an afterthought?
"You misunderstand. You seem to think I equate subjectivity and favouritism with enjoyment. You separate enjoyment from criticism and analysis and the heart from the mind. I do neither."
No, I don't, I just recognize that we aren't always going to reach the Promised Land and to develop a mode of seeing it from afar (and hopefully hastening entrance) is very healthy and reasonable.
"Subjectivity is all we can be sure of. Yes, it changes with every day but this is only an issue if one wants 'objectivity'. I don't believe this can be achieved, is needed or indeed desirable. It's a phantom, less concrete than any subjective, as I have explained over previous posts."
It's only an issue if we want consistency, and by extension, any meaning whatsoever to be attached to our impressions. Frankly, I see this as more an issue for film-writers than film-appreciators. If one wants to sit in a dark room and soak in the images and sounds without making assertions about them, or without making universal-sounding assertions anyway, who's to complain? But if we begin discussing movies, analyzing them, judging them, entering into a conversation about them, it strikes me as a bad idea to abandon any recourse to common ground or artistic standards. Otherwise the conversation merely becomes parallel monologues.
Also, to bring the discussion back around to where it began, less we lose sight of the original disagreement in increasingly fragmented parsing of the back-and-forth (which is quite enjoyable, don't get me wrong):
ReplyDeleteWhile La Salle's statement strikes you as profoundly wrong-headed, it strikes me as at least partially reasonable. Let's pick it apart for a moment:
"it's perfectly OK for viewers not to like the movie"
I agree. Liking is subjective, but then...
"it's totally not acceptable for a film critic to say it's not a good movie"
First of all, what is "good"? Perhaps I'm misunderstanding you, but it seemed that your objection was not to La Salle's use of the word but to the way he used it, i.e. as an absolute. But frankly, I think that's what the word infers and always has. It's an "objective" word and if I misconstrued you, and you merely think La Salle shouldn't have used the word - because who's to say what's good? - we disagree but I can see where you're coming from. But if you think "good" is relative I have to disagree: "good" and "like" differ not only in that one's an adjective and the other's a verb, but in that the first term inherently implies application to a higher standard while the second term conveys a purely personal reaction.
Which is to say that words like "good" and also "excellence" and, to a certain extent, "successful" should not be used unless the user is prepared to embrace some concept of objectivity. This is perhaps a bit of semantics, but it's worth mentioning because when subjectivists (meaning someone who does not believe in objective criteria for art) use these words, I get the sense they want to have your cake and eat it too - asserting the power of art beyond what they merely like, while brushing off notions of universality which their word choice has already conveyed.
Your essays, including the very one which started this conversation, with your frustration at what critics were not addressing in dismissing action films, lead me to believe that at heart you aren't quite consistent with your anti-objective statements (otherwise who's to say the critics are "wrong" for dismissing action films?). Or perhaps you mean something different by it than I do, which is why the semantic discussion is worth having.
As for the rest of La Salle...
"because it's a masterpiece"
Perhaps this is too bold but critics need to be assertive once in a while lest they become lukewarm. I would hope that, here or elsewhere, he attempts to back up this statement, however, laying out what about the film makes it a "masterpiece." Again, like "good" this is a word that carries the weight of objectivity; there is no such thing as a "personal masterpiece," meaning a masterpiece, but just for one person. So I don't have a problem with La Salle making this case as long as he, you know, actually makes the case.
"and to say otherwise is more or less to announce yourself as obtuse"
Too harsh for my taste, but the sensibility stands inasmuch as "obtuse" means "unable to recognize the principles and effects which make art work" and with the caveat that all of us, including La Salle, can be obtuse sometimes and should admit as much.
By the way, thanks for kicking off this discussion. It's been very enjoyable and has helped me clarify some of the thoughts kicking around in my head.
ReplyDeleteThere is no such thing as an objective value judgement; values do not exist independently of the individual consciousness in the way that a rock, or cans of film stock do.
ReplyDeleteThere isn't even a credible pseudo-objectivity in art criticism: that is, a framework for analysis that has trumped all other frameworks.
There are nothing more than occasional, shifting aggregations of consensus, which doubtless signify nothing more meaningful than an underlying statistical inevitability.
The idea that one might at a point in the future be able to analyse a film using the afore-mentioned vastly improbable consensually established framework, in such a way that the film's features _necessarily entail_ certain value judgements as 2 + 2 entails 4, is laughable.
What would happen to those who disagree with the critical machine's pronouncements?
Doubtless they would flee underground, form punkish cults and indulge their irrational love of such objectively bad monstrosities as Freddy Got Fingered and Meet the Feebles.
And so, as always, we end with the great literature critic, Northrop Frye, who told it like it will always be:
"The demonstrable value-judgment is the donkey's carrot of literary criticism, and every new critical fashion . . . has been accompanied by a belief that criticism has finally devised a definitive technique for separating the excellent from the less excellent. But this always turns out to be an illusion of the history of taste."
"It's been very enjoyable and has helped me clarify some of the thoughts kicking around in my head."
ReplyDeleteThanks. You too.
Om Anon,
ReplyDeleteYes, I am admittedly guilty of indulging in the same loose definitions I mentioned to Stephen. But, to be fair, I did point out above what I meant by objectivity - not scientifically verifiable existence as in the case of a rock (though even that could be questioned, I suppose, at some level of physics and/or philosophy which I don't even pretend to understand). Rather, as I said: "objective in the sense of agreed-upon, reasonable standards of judgement (which is all objectivity ever is anyway)."
So then, in lieu of a better word, what I am arguing for is not a totalitarian enforcement of critical standard but rather an attempt at understanding and an establishment of shared terms and priorities, in flux and questionable to be certain but there nonetheless for reference and assessment.
With that said, Om-Anon (and I hope this wasn't just a fly-by comment, as I'd like to pursue this further):
"There are nothing more than occasional, shifting aggregations of consensus, which doubtless signify nothing more meaningful than an underlying statistical inevitability."
This strikes me as an odd statement. Is your contention that the value judgements are entirely arbitrary and that they reflect nothing deeper about a general "way of seeing" or philosophical bent in human society at that moment or throughout history? I find this a more baffling attitude than the much-maligned propensity to "read too much" into "pseudo-objectivity." But I'm not sure that's what you're getting at.
"The idea that one might at a point in the future be able to analyse a film using the afore-mentioned vastly improbable consensually established framework, in such a way that the film's features _necessarily entail_ certain value judgements as 2 + 2 entails 4, is laughable."
You and Stephen both seem to be taking "objectivity", as I use it, to mean a kind of scientific formula applied a priori to a work. I don't really see it that way - rather it's a case of working backwards, feeling what works, listening to what works for others, and constructing AFTER THE FACT a plausible definition of what works and why it works. The mission of a canon is less to be a guide for the future (though in some senses, it can serve that function) as a history of the past, a making-sense of where we've been. It can also help sharpen the senses and prime the mind the appreciate what the future has to offer.
My only point with "objectivity" - perhaps an ill-chosen word, but I used it since Stephen used it to attack a mindset with which I mostly agree (expressed by La Salle in the quotation above) - is that the every-man-an-island-of-criticism approach strikes me as a dead end, and that if one is not willing to pronounce any value judgements, however faulty or risky they may be, discussion and analysis and appreciation can largely come to a standstill.
The extent to which these judgements are objective stems from agreed-upon-standards, which can usually be established/investigated in a discussion following the judgement. This sort of objectivity exists on a bed of subjectivity (as does ethics, to my understanding, which doesn't make the need for them any less pressing), but if the subjective values are taken as givens by the participants in the discussion, they might as well be objective scientific facts. Upon this sort of agreement, and within this framework, something which I'm calling "objectivity" but which for the sake of semantics we can call "value-judgement" or whatever you like is certainly possible and useful.
Do you agree with that?
(part one of comment)
ReplyDeleteAlso, I think my above description leaves something important out. Putting aside "values" for a moment, there's the question of the "experience" itself, which should ultimately be the guilding light for aesthetics. This "experience" varies person to person. But are there certain commonalities? Do those who like the movie experience something similar, or are they each bringing entirely different consciousnesses to the act of engaging with the work - is there no overlap? These strike me as valuable questions for someone to ask somewhere along the line.
The fact that we cannot really "capture" consciousness does not mean it doesn't exist. That the "experience" of viewing a film is not quantifiable in the way the "existence" of a rock or film can is does not render the experience non-existent. You distinguish between what exists independent of individual consciousness and what does not, but while the distinction makes sense to a certain extent in terms of scientific method, it does not mean anything in terms of actual existence, far as I can see: that which exists inside and outside of individual consciousness exists all the same.
In other words, I watch L'Avventura, you watch L'Avventura. We each have experiences with the work which exist, objectively, but in an area largely inaccessible to one another. The best we can do is articulate our own experiences and attempt to deduce from ourselves and others what commonalities there might have been in the experience. This strikes me as a worthy goal, and a reasonable foundation for subjectively-formed value judgements.
That common ground between our "experiences" exists seems to be a reasonable expectation. That aspects of these "experiences" are triggered by elements of the work also seems reasonable. Therefore, it also seems reasonable to try and determine what elements of the work triggered "experiences" in different viewers, and to praise these elements for their success. We will always be estimating, but it isn't a zero-sum game, and if some our estimates are wrong that doesn't invalidate the whole procedure.
(part two of comment)
ReplyDeleteIn this sense, when La Salle asserts The New World's "greatness" he is suggesting that it contains certain elements, integral to the work itself and presumably not imposed entirely from the outside, which are capable of triggering enjoyable experiences in a viewer. That all viewers do not have this trigger pulled does not mean that the elements aren't there, merely that for whatever reason they "missed" the connection. What La Salle believes - and I believe with him - is that this connection is still possible and thus the work is praised for what it CAN achieve, not what it does achieve in every single viewer.
When a work is criticized "objectively", even when some (or even many) people praise it, it is likely based on one or two presumptions (hopefully, educated presumptions, but presumptions nonetheless).
One, that the viewers are entirely imposing the values of the film from the outside. To take Twilight as a hypothetical example (I haven't seen it) criticism of it would suggest that the filmmakers have created a template, a blank canvas with a few signifiers sketched over it, onto which the films' admirers project their own emotional experiences. This is tricky because to a certain extent, all works of art engage in this exercise. The argument would probably run that the "better" works of art balance between what the audience brings and what the artist offers; whereas Twilight (hypothetically) merely takes the easiest route to exploit its fans' willingness to "create" the experience themselves.
Two, that the work DOES contain its own integral values, but that these values are in some way "illegitimate." This is probably the most questionable aspect of the "objective" critical enterprise, and to a certain extent I sympathize with your and others' objections to this line of reasoning, even as I'm currently ambivalent about it myself. At any rate, here the argument would go that the work engages in certain behavior or indulges certain values which cannot be worthy of "greatness" (when a critic enjoys a film like this against his/her "better judgement" it becomes a "guilty pleasure"). I think it this line of reasoning is employed, it should be eventually justified: the values should not be taken for granted and should be able to be explained when challenged, and hopefully not just with "that's the way it is."
Another area of critique which skates on the ground of objectivity is an analysis of craft, intelligence, i.e. the input of the work rather than the output. Stephen has objected to this form of criticism, but I respectfully disagree. For one thing, I think the sort of admiration/respect these judgements entail is a worthy end in and of itself, aside from visceral enjoyment. Secondly, I think this kind of admiration/respect can actually serve as a gateway TO visceral enjoyment at times; because understanding an artist's work and intentions, what he/she hoped to achieve, what he/she did achieve, how he/she achieved it, can sometimes bring you to see the work as it's "meant to be seen". In some ways, this is the worthiest goal of the critic, and their supreme responsibility (one reason that, with my often impressionistic and subjective write-ups, I'm hesitant to call the bulk of my work criticism, though some of it has been.)
Om-Anon, your challenge has spurred me to write the above, which I think may be my most cogent articulation of my position yet. Thanks for that!
The real problem seems to be that you have not watched enough Zulawski films in which the visceral and the intellectual blend into one irrepressible onslaught and make these less fulfilling visceral films seem impotent. But, then, that's just my love of Zulawski speaking. I agree that the serious criticism does seem to be shifted away from such films and it is not because all of the critics of quality have seen films from Zulawski. Those that have are forgiven, though.
ReplyDelete"Those that have are forgiven, though."
ReplyDeleteHaha. I've seen a couple of his films and though I liked them well enough they didn't make these more mainstream
action films seem impotent.
We do need more thoughtful directors to have a go at this genre, though.