An old joke for the subject, but appropriate enough. Because today we’re talking about tired old ground.
Now Magazine is a free weekly newspaper in Toronto. I’m sure you’ve got one or two just like it wherever you are. It’s a pretty radically left-wing (and I say that as a pretty left-wing guy myself; compared to Now, I’m practically Steven Harper), no-compromise, art-first! publication. So it’s somewhat surprising that they devoted this week’s cover story to this summer’s Hollywood blockbusters.
Or not so surprising, really, when it sums them up as
…new but familiar; edgy but unthreatening; well crafted but artless; ingeniously constructed but meaningless. It’s the product of adults labouring mightily to entertain children – or, as studio marketing departments like to say, “children of all ages.”
Oh, and Annie Hall is a more challenging and mature film than Star Wars.
All of which is incredibly, blindingly obvious. There’s really nothing with which I can disagree in the article, except for the very existence of the article itself. It says nothing new. It offers nothing but the author’s dismissive evaluation of Hollywood entertainment that’s already eminently dismissable. (For my part, I’m pretty excited about Spider-Man 3 and Ratatouille, kind of interested in Ocean’s 13, and generally indifferent to the rest.)
Are there people who were psyched about Pirates of the Caribbean 3 who’ll read this article and think “Oh dear, I never thought of that before. I think I’ll go to see the new David Lynch movie instead.” (It’s worth noting that the same writer continues his theme in the already-short review of Inland Empire.)
It’s self congratulatory, “I told you so” wankery. It’s the sort of thing I’ve pointed out in others before, and try to avoid myself (despite being a fairly negative and snarky person): Trotting out reviews and commentary for the sole purpose of reaffirming your apathy and disdain, getting in one more tired snark at a target the size of Nebraska. Which, I have to admit, is pretty cool when you’re in your early 20s, but a bit of a bore soon after that. My favoured free Toronto paper, Eye Weekly takes a more sensible approach: David Lynch on the cover, and a pretty inconsequential review of Spider-Man buried inside.
Because let’s face it: If you’re going to write about all your preconceived notions of art (as is my own wont), it’s at least more entertaining to do it about the stuff you actually like. You look like less of an asshole that way.