Slate.com's annual year-end Movie Club kicked off earlier this week, with critics A.O. Scott (New York Times), Charles Taylor (Salon), Armond White (the New York Press), Stephanie Zacharek (Salon), Scott Foundas (L.A. Weekly), Christopher Kelly (Fort Worth Star-Telegram), and Wesley Morris (Boston Globe) talking about film criticism, lobbing insults at each other, and even discussing the past year's films.
Armond White kicked things off with a few thoughts:
Hipster self-righteousness has become a blight on film culture. The Voice poll revealed (or constructed) a disappointing, nationwide urge among film journalists to outsmartass each other. (Yes, I write for New York Press, which some people think of as the Voice's opponent, but these thoughts are not born of competition. I'm aiming at a problem bigger than one publication or institution.) The "victory" of a cliquish, solipsistic—and drab—film like Before Sunset is indicative of a dead-end culture. Coterie thinking passing for free expression. Too many critics—and filmgoers—are now smug about movies without being curious, honest, or imaginative. That's what Before Sunset celebrates. And that's why '04, which I think was an astonishingly rich year for movies, saw so many, many unique films drop out of the marketplace (that's Cineplex to you die-hard romantics) while so many, many mendacious and unsurprising films held sway in the culture.
But later in the discussion went on the defensive:
I didn't think being invited to the join the Movie Club meant I had to subject myself to being called a "bully" and "slightly nuts" just because I try to write with force and enthusiasm. It's another example of critics who refuse to deal with an opposing thesis and resort to weak forms of dismissal. This is what's bad about movie writing that turns into a sophomoric sport.
