Justified Elitism

*note - any names of real bloggers that appears in this article is simply to provide a practical example and is in no way an attack of or sign of disrespect towards said blogger

Many weeks back Rachel of Rachel's Reel Reviews, who does lists of three every Thursday did one about the three movies that got people up in arms over her not having seen. One was Rocky, one was Citizen Kane and I don't quite remember the third.

Then, a couple weeks later, I got an angry comment on Suite101 for a review of 1900 from an anonymous person who more or less declared that, because I didn't like this movie I was: an idiot, derogatory, illiterate, have an ugly mother, my father was a Nazi and that I'm probably dyslexic, senile, and, more than likely, homeless...you get the point. Forget the worth of the movie, it was my personal being that needed the criticism.

Then Rachel added a comment to that post about how show reviewed classic movies for another blog once upon a time and would get similar kinds of comments. Throw all those things into a pot and I've been stewing for several weeks now about the nature of film snobbery/elitism.

The main thing that was jiggling about in my head was at what point does elitism stop being justified (which I think it is) and start simply to be condescending snobbery and nose thumbing? I'll admit it, I'm a bit of an elitist. I think I have the right to be. I studied film for four years, presented papers at conferences, read every book worth reading on the industry and then some, have been a paid script reader for going on three years now, worked for a film sales company, have written for many publications, had my blog tweeted by Roger Ebert and so on down the line. On top of that, I know more about film than most people. I may know more about film than a lot of the people who blog about it every day. It's not that I'm better than anyone, I've just built up an expansive wealth of knowledge/understanding/viewpoints/etc.

However, I've never really wanted to hold that above people (although I will be the first to shoot down ignorant or ill-informed statements), but rather I use it in order to try to meet people half way. I think that's the standard everyone who wants to write seriously about film should set for themselves: to have as vast and expansive a knowledge base as possible because, if you're not informed, your readers certainly won't be and if they are, it won't be long before they let you know that you aren't. My saying that I use as a measuring stick to evaluate whether or not someone is worth reading has been "Never trust a critic who doesn't know that Last House on the Left is a remake of an Ignmar Bergman movie."

The statement is admittedly elitist but let's break this down logistically. On one hand my statement is saying that knowing such an obvious tidbit (which can be found easily from a quick Internet search) shows that the person has a vast knowledge of film of all varieties (in this case American horror and that of the Swedish master), but it also digs down into a more personal level. What it is actually saying, in somewhat abstract terms, as maybe most great criticism does (but we won't get into that again), is that I know Last House on the Left is a remake of The Virgin Spring, so if you seriously want me to commit my time to you, than I expect you to at least know that, which is, just as much as me.

Although it sounds condescending (one certainly need not know anything about Bergman to enjoy Last House) when written using me as an example, it's a universal frame of mind: the people who we read should be able to teach us something, strive to want to make ourselves better writers and so on. That's why the statement isn't condescending at all. It's putting a positive spin on a negative outlook. I've put so much time, energy, love and thought into film that why do I want to settle for the opinions/viewpoints of someone who couldn't be bothered to have the drive or determination that the best have, which is the standard I have set for myself? I instead want to surround myself with those are better than me so I can be pushed to better myself because they told me something I didn't know, made me look at something in a different light, made me jealous of their magnificent prose and so fourth.

In sum I want my critics to know what the heck they are talking about. That's not to say that everyone isn't entitled to an opinion and that those opinions shouldn't be considered and maybe even, in some cases, valued, but what it means is that there's so much garbage in the world, so many people filling it up with meaningless and empty nothingness that benefits no one that why waste time and effort on something that will ultimately provide nothing of worth? I've probably been guilty of this from time to time (I think we are all every now and again) but I always revert back to that magical quote from 8 1/2 about how it is better to destroy than create what is meaningless. It's not snobbery to want/expect someone who writes about film day in and day out to have actively sought out such milestones as Rocky, Citizen Kane, The Godfather, whatever the usual suspects are, and put thought into what makes them so great/seminal. These are the works that defined film. You'd expect someone who truely loves film to have had the desire at some point in life to check them out. Critics should, after all, be writing out of a love of film and not self. And if, of course, you are young and growing, to be seeking those titles and and striving to provide new and interesting commentary on them.

To sum up, what struck me as strange was when Rachel, not to keep picking on her, admitted that she didn't even like classic movies. I understand, in such a case, why people may be willing to pick her apart over such a detail for, if I am reading reviews of classic films, I want them to be from the informed mind of someone who lives and breathes classic film and can shed new and interesting light on it. Essentially, regular criticism has become redundant because the abundance of blogs on the Internet has caused the saturation of valuable critical thought. By the time the week is out and everyone has logged their reviews of the week's big titles, there's next to no variation left to be found: no interesting ideas left to put on the pile. The discussion has died and we have moved on to killing the next one. I want to read the critic who lets the conversation live and breathe and grow on through the power of their mind and their pen (that's not to say they keep publishing on the same movie, but allow it to grow through an informed review).

I once left a comment for Sebastian Gutierrez (whose blog was then known as Detailed Criticisms), who had written a standard review of Ignmar Bergman's the Seventh Seal. Not criticising him as a person or shooting down his review, I pondered if there was really any worth in writing a standard review about performances and whatnot in a film as prolific, timeless and well worked-over as that one. Obviously he did because he wrote it and he achieved his goal but, did it ever seem a little fruitless, I wondered, to be approaching such a film at this intermediate level when whole acadmeic essays have been written about it's themes and concepts in relation to Bergman's career, theology, God, death, etc.? I thought so (not to say what dear Sebastian wrote wasn't worth the read because, obviously, I read it).Why breathe old life into something that's been resurrected and put into perspective so many times in so many interesting ways? You don't do yourself any value and the film doesn't much benefit either.

Now I've sort of veered off topic. If it sounds like I'm saying that everyone needs to reinvent the wheel or science or philosophy every time they write a review, I certainly am not. It isn't possible. But why not make them interesting, personal, knowledgeable, etc? Why not bring ideas about art, life, society into the mix, or, at the very least, try to say something clever and engaging. Leave 'em something to chew on. There's no excuse for boring film writing other than simply not have the ambition to gain new knowledge to share at every opportunity. The boring critics think they know it all and are simply taking up space. The valuable ones are striving to learn new things, not just about film but about the world around them. It reminds me of another of my favourite quotes from Conrad who said that "People don't write because they want to say something, they write because they have something to say." Some people don't have anything to say. It's not snobbery to not want to read it.

Alright, weigh in.

Mike's DVD Haul

I have the mind of a collector. When I start collecting something I don't operate in half measures. I must have the best. It started as a kid with stuffed animals, went from grade 8 into high school with CDs and now has become totally focused on DVDs. Maybe that's why Adaptation is one of my favourite movies and The Orchid Thief one of my favourite books: I understand John Laroche and his passion to go great lengths to collect rare, beautiful orchids. I will go into any store, no matter shape or size and browse through every corner of it in hopes of finding that one hidden treasure or that one great deal. I spend hours on websites, comparing prices, seeing where the best deals are and so on. And I must admit: my DVD collection is pretty sweet. It's only got around a thousand titles which, to an avid collector, may seem like not very many but if it lacks in quantity it makes up for ten times over in quality. So confidant in my DVD collection am I that I even wrote a post about it back before anyone was even reading.

So anyway, to come to my point, a while back Travis at The Movie Encyclopedia started doing regular posts on DVD Hauls. He'd go out, buy some DVDs, come back and share his booty with us. I loved it. It was pure vanity and offered really no use to anyone and yet, as a collector, I loved seeing what he was buying, admiring things I wanted, and questioning his taste on others. It was a lot of fun and even though he hasn't done one in a while, I hope to see them come back.

During the course of my one year of going back to school I didn't buy many DVDs. When I got a job, the first thing I wanted to do was blow some money and remember what it felt like to buy mass amounts of DVDs, of getting them home, unwrapping them, looking at the inserts, etc. So that's what I did. A lot of them I ordered from Barns and Noble whose annual Criterion Collection sale is a blessing. All of them, regardless of what outlet they came from are great, classic film from master directors and, because I'm vain too when it comes to my DVDs, I thought I'd share with you what I picked up over the last couple weeks.

Au Revior Les Enfants was Louis Malle's first French feature back after immigrating to America with mixed results. Many of his fellow Frenchmen never forgive him for leaving but this did not detract him from producing what is maybe his most personal film. More straightforward than his early French New Wave films, Enfants is apparently based on Malle`s own life in which a French schoolboy in occupied France accidentally gives up the identity of his Jewish friend and the pain he must live with as a result of that.

Spirits of the Dead is an anthology film based on the works of Edgar Allen Poe. It features three shorts: one by Louis Malle, one by Roger Vadim and one by (and this is the reason I own it) Ferderico Fellini. Other than that I haven`t seen it.

When thinking about great British filmmakers there are really only two names to consider (and, sorry to say, neither of them are Christopher Nolan). One is Ken Loach and the other is Mike Leigh. There are two varieties of Mike Leigh films: the predominantly comic and the predominately bleak (and I say predominately because none of them exist in one way or another without both elements). Naked is one of the bleakest. It also started the career of David Thewlis, now best know as Remus Lupin from the Harry Potter movies.

Jean-Pierre Melville is often considered the Godfather of the French New Wave because his Bob le Flambeur (remade in America as The Good Thief) more or less kick started the whole movement with it`s quick, cool, ultra-hip love of American crime films. Like early Godard and even maybe Tarantino, Mellville was the king of super cool genre films (although he also made other, powerful dramas like Army of Shadows) that were both exciting and funny. These films are any movie lover`s delight.

Jean-Luc Godard, love him or hate him, is the mad cinema anarchist that cannot be ignored. His Breathless was the most important film debut since Citizen Kane and helped to define an entire new generation of films while also breaking down conventions, creating new techniques and generally just changing the way we understood movies and pushing the limits of how they could be made. Of course Godard would later go off the tracks, making films so dense and complex that they are nearly unwatchable but one thing about Godard is he`s never boring. Neither Masculin Femanin or Tout va Bien are major Godard works but they are still highly interesting political statements like none anyone but Godard could make.

No DVD Haul is complete with some Ingmar Bergman and these three films were the last ones I needed to own everything Bergman has available in North America. I once said that no one should trust a critic who didn`t know that Last House on the Left was a remake of Bergman`s Virgin Spring, a masterpiece from Bergman`s early career before his later, more challenging works. The Magic Flute, an adaptation of Mozart`s opera is an interesting film because of how uncharacteristic it is for a Bergman film. Maybe his lightest, most joyous film, it`s a strange vanity project that doesn`t naturally fit anywhere in the progression of Bergman`s career but it is still a lovely rendering of a classic opera. I haven`t seen Autumn Sonata but it is characterized as being the one collaboration between fellow countrymen Ingmar Bergman and Hollywood bombshell Ingrid Bergman (no relation).

The Best Films of the Decade: 2000-2009

Note- Because of a contractual agreement with Suite101 that nothing I publish for them will appear anywhere else on the internet for up to a year after the publication I can't post my actual list in this space. But because of the word count regulations and mandate that everything be written in the third person (ugh!), I couldn't post my introduction or honourable mentions. Therefore, I am posting those things here and then linking to the list itself.

I went back and forth in my mind on how to present the decade’s best films. Would I provide a numbered list with a few important honourable mentions or simply just list all films considered in alphabetical order and be done with it? My conclusion was that, either way, it didn’t much matter for, to contradict Marshall McLuhan, in this case the medium is not the message. Does one, after all, get any further insight into the worth of a film in knowing that it is say the fifth best of the decade as opposed to simply being one of ten out of over a thousand potential candidates?

However, I’ve decided I will provide a numbered list because people like such methods: it makes them feel safe and organized, knowing that things have natural places. But know this: the numbers, except for the first, are completely arbitrary. The number one film has earned its position not because I think it to be of higher aesthetic value, it’s acting, direction, writing to exceed that of the rest, but because it holds the most meaning to me personally. Numbers two through 10 (there are actually 12 picks because I’ve doubled up works by the same director) and all the honourable mentions, could have just as well be number two for all I care. With that said, here are the 10 best films to come out between 2000 and 2009 with some honourable mentions to start.

13 Conversations about One Thing for being an intelligent and philosophical look at how we are connected through both happiness and sadness.

Lost in Translation for being a modern day reinterpretation of La Dolce Vita

Russian Ark for, at over 90 minutes, being the longest tracking shot in the history of cinema (without the aid of computers I might add).

The Dark Knight for being a dark, smart, thought provoking, exhilarating experience, proving that ideas and thrills can in fact work together after all.

Everything Pixar animation studios has released this decade.

Kill Bill for being one of the most oddball entertainments to have come out this decade.

Saraband for being Ingmar Bergman’s last masterpiece.

Everything Pedro Almodovar has made this decade (including Talk to Her, Bad Education, Volver and Broken Embraces)

Northfork for being the saddest and most uplifting film of the decade.

Sin City for creating an entirely new film genre while reviving an old one in the process.

Click for the Best Movies of the Decade