The Rating Scale

So the other day when I wrote a one minute review of Next Day Air Andrew over at Encore commented that the movie sounded passable but he was surprised by the high rating which I allotted (3.5 out of 5). This inspired me to throw out some context.

There is one fundamental rule that I believe when it comes to scoring films: it is pointless. I do it because it comes with the territory but really, what does a rating out of four or five prove? It doesn't assess the worth of the film itself because it is based on the preference of the writer and reflects their experience of the film and not the film's overall worth, in which case you should scrap the rating and just read the review seeing as that's what it is there for in the first place.

It also doesn't assess the worth of a film in relation to other films because every rating is the rating solely of that film and not all films. It is possible to use other like films to justify a certain rating but when I give a five star rating to Up in the Air that by no means it is the equal to The Godfather which would also get five stars. Up in the Air is a five star film in the world of corporate human comedies and The Godfather is a five star gangster movie. In no way do either of those five stars cross over in relation to one another and I don't even begin to know how they would begin to compare in the overall world of film. However if The Dark Knight is a five star movie then the other four Batman movies before Batman Begins are around 2-2.5s.

Now, as for why I use five stars. It's because I like that extra star for indifference. Four stars doesn't really give you much wiggle room. However, in terms of thumbs up or thumbs down, five stars offers the 3-3.5 range which is basically the same (overall indifference) but 3 reflects the thumb tipping slightly in the down direction while the 3.5 reflects the thumb tipping slightly in the up direction.

But again, we're beating a dead horse because, as proof right in the first paragraph, the meaning of these ratings exist solely in the mind of the review (Andrew perceives 3.5 to be of greater worth than me and that's his right). To me good film criticism has, is and will always be about someone who writes about film sharing their experiences with those who like to read about film. As I've said elsewhere on this site, I read a review not to know if the movie is good or not (I can decide that on my own) but to see what reviewer X had to say about it. When I read Andrew's blog I care much more about who his personal favourite actors and actresses of the decade are and why he thinks so rather than what films he thinks I should be seeing because, knowing me, I'll probably see them regardless.

With that said, in most cases, to reference Jean Renior once again, the reviewer is often more important than the film he or she is reviewing, which simply acts as a springboard or starting point from which that person can begin to share their personal thoughts, fears, anxieties, philosophies, emotional responses, etc. Film criticism, like all art, is fundamentally composed of two parts: the emotional and the intellectual. It's on one (or both) these two levels that all great film (and art in general) moves us on. If a film doesn't stimulate a viewer's mind or move them to some emotional response then it has failed and this can only be expressed in the body of the review, not in the arbitrary number I put in brackets after the film's title.

Have You Ever Regretted A Review?

One of the most frequent question any critic gets is whether or not they have ever changed their minds about something after the review has been written and published. I think about this sometimes as I read back over my old work but the only conclusion I ever come to is that, although I would change the wording, the grammer, the flow, and the overall mechanics of some reviews, I would still pretty much convey those same ideas today as I did on the day the review was written. Except once.

Back in the tail end of 2009 I got an e mail through Suite101.com from a producer from Florida asking me if I would review his new indie film. Of course I felt for his cause, know how hard it is for small films to make a name for themselves, and know that every little bit of good publicity counts. When you're an indie filmmaker one of the things you find out quickly is that you basically need to get out there and get every audience member you can, one at a time.

So I agreed and some weeks later a screener showed up in my mailbox. It was a film called Patsy. So, I set all my schoolwork aside and popped it into my DVD player. The film ran less than an hour and a half and was nearly unwatchable. What was I to do? Here was this guy who was waiting for me to post a review of his film, which he must obviously be proud of, and I was going to publish on the Internet how badly this thing sucked?

So I did something I've never done in a review before. I lied. I said, while trying to heap as little praise in it's direction as possible, that the film was a good first effort, that people who like David Lynch might enjoy it, that it was funny in a strange sort of way and so on. Although the Lynch comparison was a just one, Patsy was a combination as all of Lynch's worst qualities: pretentious, annoying, unfunny, nonsensical. I'd try to tell you what Patsy is about but I have no idea. The story spins out of control towards nowhere in particular, the comedic moments are juvenile and unfunny and kill whatever tone the film is working for, and the acting is bad, bad, bad. Apparently other people feel into the same trap as me because I was shocked to find a lot of positive publicity for the movie on IMDB after it showed at a film festival in Florida.

In a way, I feel bad that I didn't like the film, but I feel even worse that I was dishonest with myself. As a critic I have the freedom to voice my true experience of a film and for the first (and last) time in my life I had not done that. There is a lesson here that I want to depart upon anyone willing to take it: Always stay true to yourself and your voice, never doubt your craft and don't be afraid to call a bad film a bad film. That's our job as film reviewers. That's our obligation.

Read my Patsy review here