January 7, 2004

There is something about this moment…

I can't quite explain it. I don't understand it. But the world of show biz seems to be moving at an almost glacial speed, as though it is slowing down so scientists can study the oddities of an industry in a great deal of quiet turmoil.

There is a Movie Club going on at Slate that some how has slipped below the professional levels that the quality professionals involved usually maintain and surpass. (The exception is Armond White, who is taking no shit from no one.) What is that all about? Well, it seems that this year the "club" really feels like a club… a private one… where beer drinking habits and other personal peccadilloes seem to be far more amusing to the participants than to anyone else.

The thing is, all of this leaves me not with a squeal of outrage but of unbelievable ennui, as this closed rank gathering seems to be whistling on the deck of the Titanic of film criticism. It's all very civil, at its core. I quite like David Edelstein and he is a gracious host. Tony Scott is growing on me as his career criticizing movies gets past its awkward start. Armond White is the intellectual answer to Rex Reed's emotion. Zacharek & Taylor often seem a bit too intentionally unpredictable for my tastes, but they both certainly can write. And like most of us, they are all just one editor away from not having a real job.

The job of the critic is in play these days. The internet has gone far past newspaper syndication in allowing anyone anywhere to have Roger Ebert, Manohla Dargis or Christopher Kelly as their local critic. In the meanwhile, newspapers are in trouble and are all too happy to pick up criticism from their affiliated syndicates. One major alt weekly chain - New Times - has a handful of critics who cover the entire country, with arts talent in each local venue… but the core of criticism is one for all. And who is that hurting? Except for the young or old critic who needs a job? Add to that the lack of real influence that criticism seems to have on the studio bottom line and it is a nerve racking time indeed.

It's nerve racking also for the studios. A new regime at Paramount, a new CEO at Disney, a new owner at MGM, a new structure at DreamWorks, ongoing reverberations from recent moves at Universal and Columbia, succession issues at Fox, and time for Warner Bros. to put up or to shut up. Everyone seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Oh, that shoe.

So what are we waiting for? What is this brave (or cowardly) new world that is evolving?

I don't know. There is not enough settled to really look too far down the road.

What we do know is that the village is quiet now. Sundance is just moments away… we're all still waiting for a Miramax answer (my guess is that there will be none until summer)… Michael Moore is probably going to steal the People's Choice award by campaigning, which is remarkably ironic….

(I have not had a moment to pay homage to Universal's splendid work in selling the heck out of Meet The Fockers, which will be one of the highest grossing sequels of all time. Congrats.)

And I have been slacking off, regardless of my good reasons for some of it.

Meanwhile, the movie that's gotten the most ink in the Movie Club is Patrice Chéreau's Son Frère… with The Passion of The Christ now coming on strong. What is in between? And does it have to live on the edges to be discussed?

Somehow, I hope it all makes more sense next week.

December 31, 2004 - The Ten Best
December 30, 2004 - The Ten Worst
December 29, 2004 - Movies You Should Have Seen, But Didn't