Over at Spout, resident list-meister Christopher Campbell notes that New York Press critic Armond White’s pan of District 9 has led fanboys to raise the roof both at the NYP site and elsewhere, and gathers reactions from the film blogosphere, some of it predictably negative. But a few folks—including John Lichman, even!—come to A.W.‘s defense. “I’ll be willing to put down money that 7/8ths of the crowd denouncing his District 9 review didn’t even bother to look up You, The Living in terms of his comparison.” Nope, I won’t take that bet. Jen Yamato says “even when I disagree with his reaction to a film…I understand why he feels so strongly.” And Campbell himself says “the important thing is that he’s an interesting read, and not just for how against-the-grain he is. Even if he is ever anti-majority just to be anti-majority, he presents reasonable arguments and raises necessary points by doing so.”
In their eagerness to make lemonade out of lemons, these boosters ignore a few salient points. The first being White’s problematic relationship to the English language. Here’s a challenge. Tell me what this sentence, from White’s review of the new version of The Taking of Pelham 123, means: “Audiences who enjoyed the original 1974 Pelham 123 took its grungy dangerousness as a realistic confirmation of their own citizens’ distrust.” Now here’s the rub: I don’t want to know what you think it means, what you infer it means when you put it through your own personal White decoder ring, no; I want to know what the words in the sentence as they are actually written actually mean. As, you know, an actual copy editor would understand them. Because an actual copy editor would tell you that the sentence is gibberish. (You get at least two of these every time White goes over 1,000 words, by the way.) But I suppose that some crafty White defender could break out the Borges, and claim that White “has (perhaps unwittingly) enriched the slow and rudimentary art of reading by way of a new technique…”
Then, of course, there’s the “reasonable” argument via non-sequitur, as witness this, from his pointless defense of G.I. Joe: “It’s a self-protective reflex by which they’ll praise undistinguished junk like Wanted, 3:10 To Yuma and Drag Me To Hell to defend Hollywood’s routine, commercial U.S.S. Enterprises.” No, don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask anyone to parse that. And, yes, the “they” referred to therein are “politically unconscious movie critics” and where the “politically” fits in I have no idea. No, I just want to know why the hell White is bringing up 3:10 To Yuma. Do YOU know? (And yes, I think bringing up You, The Living in the context of District 9 is equally nonsensical.)
Then of course there’s the sub-theme of every White review, which is that every other critic is a moral degenerate and an aesthetic cretin. And it is this judgement that explains the, well, seeming arbitrariness as to what he elects to condemn and what he elects to celebrate. He wrote of Star Trek and Wolverine: “Their only purpose: teaching audiences to watch movies crudely, as teenagers, as a boy. At that, [they] succeed damnably.” And as for G.I. Joe: “With G.I. Joe, we don’t have to put on that we’re above trash—after all, it’s based on a Hasbro toy and a popular animated TV series for kids.” Before you say “Huh?”, just check out the Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic ratings of the above-cited pictures. They’ll tell you most of what you need to know.
I understand that Lichman, Yamato, Campbell and many others yearn for a truly provocative contrarian to shake things up in the movie criticism world. That they have to settle for this intellectually fraudulent, baseline incompetent lout is sadder for them, I guess, than it is for the rest of us.
Actually, the real reason I wanted to write this—and obviously I got rather carried away, as is my wont—is because of something Campbell wrote that I found kind of sweet and moving. “I will admit that when I began writing film reviews many years ago, I looked up to White more than anyone and even gave myself the nickname ‘The Film Cynic’…because I was a more negative and cynical person back then, and also, I honestly admit, because I thought it’d help me get controversially noticed.”
I read that, and after asking myself, “Yeah, where HAVE all the copy editors gone?” (because I’m still a negative and cynical person), I recalled how everybody in this game does sorta stupid stuff when they’re first starting out. And it occurred to me, in the spirit of generosity and fellow-feeling that transcends differences of opinion and petty bickering, that it would be fun to share the very dumbest thing I ever did when I myself first started writing
criticism.
I was a freshman at William Paterson College in the fall of 1977, and shortly after submitting my epic interview with The Ramones, conducted in the backstage area of Dover’s The Show Place, I was assigned by the arts editor of the school paper, The Beacon, to cover the afternoon jazz and classical concerts sponsored by the school’s music department. Which was pretty damned distinguished. Raymond Des Roches, a professor there, was a founder of the New Jersey Percussion Ensemble, which brought the world première of Charles Wuorenin’s Percussion Symphony to WPC. Our jazz faculty was among the nation’s finest, and boasted trumpeter/composer Thad Jones as an instructor. One of my earliest assignments was to cover a recital by the very well-renowned quintet that Jones co-led with drummer Mel Lewis.
At the time I didn’t know shit about jazz. As a self-constructed weirdo, I had listened to some Ornette, and pretty much only the farthest-out of Coltrane (Ascension really drove my parents up the wall), but a real antipathy to anything trad had built up during my last couple of years of high school, wherein some of my best friends were fans of both Chicago and Maynard Ferguson. Also, I was a real screw-you punk rock kid. And that’s the state of mind in which I went to see Thad Jones and Mel Lewis.
The review I wrote, which I’m rather relieved not to have at hand to quote generously from, was one of the greatest farragos of ignorant nonsense ever to be published at any time, anywhere. Still hip-deep in Maynard Ferguson resentment, I sneered at Thad Lewis’ “blaring” trumpet. I punkishly turned my nose up at “sentimental” song titles such as “Children Are Pretty People.” And, most hilariously stupid of all, I criticized the size of Mel Lewis’ drum kit, mocking it as too small and as looking like “the Kenner toy kit that your little brother got for Christmas.”
Man. Did I ever get it in the neck from every jazz student at William Paterson College, and deservedly so. Remembering it now, I’m actually shocked that I was allowed to continue writing for the award-winning paper at all, let alone that I eventually made it to arts editor. I did learn from the experience. A pretty simple lesson: don’t mouth off when you haven’t the slightest idea of what the fuck you’re talking about. I mean, yeah, it sounds like a simple lesson, right? And yet…
Dude, fuck jazz, tell us about interviewing the Ramones. Were the guys still talking to one another? Was Joey the smart one? What were the other guys like?
Sorry, I didn’t mean to break into my punk-kid mode.
I do have one question that is sorta related to this. Glenn, seeing as you state you were a proud punk-rock kid, did you have any use for disco? I mean, being half Italian, did Saturday Night Fever do anything for you? Like jazz, did it take time to appreciate disco?
Hey, I LOVE Maynard Ferguson! So there!
@ Aaron A.: The Ramones were all still speaking to each other, and were very nice. Tommy was still in the band. As a 17-year-old-idiot, I actually asked the question “Where do you get the ideas for your songs?” Johnny, in immaculate Queens deadpan, said, “Oh, you know, the usual. Go to movies. Read comic books. Take long walks.” Years later I got to be friendly with Joey, who was, in my experience, an absolute sweetheart. I would see Johnny at Chiller expos and he was always cool.
I actually enjoyed a good deal of the “SNF” soundtrack, particularly The Trammp’s “Disco Inferno” (ten-minute version only, please). Always dug Chic, as only a complete cretin could fail to get into Nile’s guitar, Bernard’s bass, and Tony Thompson’s drumming. Was also a hip-hop early adopter—bought a LOT of Sugar Hill 12-inches. I was totally into the fact that The Clash had Grandmaster Flash open for them. Because I was a saint, and a genius, and always had impeccable taste. Thank you for asking.
Yeah, Ebert wrote a blog entry in defense of White’s negative “District 9” review (even though Ebert gave it 3 Stars), before being given a history lesson on AW, and coming to the conclusion that he’s little more than a “troll”.
I wonder: is the head of the New York Film Critics Circle not a desirable position to have? Because I can’t think of any other reason why AW, at this point in time, would be afforded such stature. Are they looking for a little more attention this year?
I love the idea of Armond White, but I hate the fact of Armond White.
A few years back I collected 6 months of Armond’s reviews with the intention of counting the references to “morality”. I don’t remember the final number, but I do remember that there were only 2 reviews over the entire period (we’re talking dozens of pieces) that did not reference the filmmakers “moral” stance in one way or another.
So you have a problem with Armond White. The question I have is that, since SLATE felt it necessary to run excerpts from “Critical Amnesia” in 2007, should we take Clive James seriously?
@ partisan: You say I have a “problem” with White. Fine for you to put it that way, I guess. But when I say White can’t write, I offer up some hard evidence. When I say he argues by non-sequitur, I provide evidence. When I say he’s more interested in touting his own moral and aesthetic superiority to his colleagues than he is to actually illuminating art, I provide evidence. So what’s my “problem,” exactly?
As for Clive James in relation to Slate, well, I’m no fan of the “e‑zine,” and I’m certainly no fan of Jacob Weisberg, the James champion who published chunks of what became “Cultural Amnesia” in Slate. But James is an impeccable writer who does his homework and is often very funny. None of that can be said of White. I don’t think that White aspires to be James in any event. I think he would rather be Malcolm Muggeridge. But he hasn’t got the talent, or the intelligence, for that either. The proof is always in the pudding, more so than the outlet, to answer your question about taking James seriously. I mean, Armond is published in Film Comment. Does that disallow every other thing ever published in Film Comment? No. Taints it a little, maybe, but doesn’t delegitimize it.
@ JC: You ask, “is the head of the New York FIlm Critics Circle not a desirable position to have?” Well, yes and no. The post sure SOUNDS good, but it comes with a lot of administrative and clerical duties that are huge pains in the ass. I could name at least two folks who were brought into the circle and immediately placed in the president’s position because nobody else could be arsed to do the work it required—a rather classic bait-and-switch honorarium! Armond, of course, loves the position, because he fancies it gives him power. Power he exercised, as Mark Jacobson’s New York magazine profile chronicled, to prevent many New York film critics from attending the Sundance Film Festival one year. Because that’s the kind of spiteful child he really is. “They don’t know who they’re dealing with,” indeed.
Not disputing any of your points about Armond, but I think there are certain reviews, when he chills the fuck out and just grooves on a movie he likes without any unwarranted attacks on other critics or other films, that make him almost valuable. Granted, this is (increasingly) rare. As an example I’d submit his rather lovely defense of Michel Gondry’s “Be Kind Rewind.” Aside from a brief swipe at Todd Haynes, none of White’s usual anger is present.
“The surprisingly nostalgic sight of VHS boxes is the most poignant thing in Michel Gondry’s Be Kind Rewind,” White begins. “It’s like the closetful of stacked-away board games in The Royal Tenenbaums: the detritus of our youth or of once-shared passions.” He continues, “Mike and Jerry are Slackers N the Hood. Mos Def’s squirrelly voice barely admits rage or ambition (“What the duck!” is his harshest retort). Jack Black makes Jerry’s mania benign; a habitué of a junkyard paradise, he embodies Gondry’s visionary side. This duo progresses from manchild and freak to primitive artists when they eventually make a Sweded biography of local hero Fats Waller…they discover that one’s relationship to art—as maker or consumer—is best when personal.” And he nails the dismount: “Their Sweded movies contain such visionary enchantment—the visual wit that made Gondry a music video wunderkind—that you often can’t quite believe what you’re seeing. Gondry toys with real and fake, past and present, old and new. Be Kind Rewind explores the meaning of originality, but it’s also a fable about art and social change.”
Call me crazy, but that reads like a nice little movie review to me. Of course, one could argue that it’s merely the exception that proves the rule. But I’d like to think it’s the real Armond, and the other stuff is a heavy-duty shell he’s encased himself in as his petulant teenager tendencies have overtaken him. Like Fox Mulder, I want to believe.
@ Earthworm Jim: I like your citation, and I’m at a loss to counter it. As you may suspect, this is the kind of response I’d hoped for—some hard evidence against my own. It doesn’t turn me completely around, but it does force me to consider the notion that A.W. may constitute some kind of paradox. This is what arguments are for. Thanks!
I guess I agree with Earthworm Jim. Armond’s biggest crime is being a dick to other movie critics, which he certainly is. Since I’m not a movie critic, I don’t get terribly upset. When he likes a movie, he makes a pretty convincing case. And why not focus on morality? When I like a film, I also tend to approve of a director’s moral point of view, something that is often indistinguishable from that director’s cinematic vocabulary. Just because I think that A Christmas Tale was last year’s best film, or I’m Not There the best film of 2007 (thereby putting me firmly in the camp of Armond’s hipster enemies) does not mean that I disagree with him on some fundamental level. Why the focus on Armond White here and elsewhere in the blogospehere, to the point where he is cited not only in the blog’s subtitle but also on a weekly basis in that Auteurs column? He’s not writing for The New York Times. And he’s definitely more educated about film than Glenn was about trad jazz in the above anecdote. As a college-kid alt-jazz obsessive, I can certainly relate (even though my ranting was confined to the 5‑watt college radio show where I played 40 straight minutes of Cecil Taylor, not a college newspaper), but Armond is certainly better than some teenage punk with something to prove. My point, I guess, is that being full of shit is only a crime when you’re a critic who is illiterate about the medium you criticize. For what it’s worth, Armond is far from cinematically illiterate. Now I have to get back to watching Pinocchio on ABC Family. I’m drunk, and it’s making me cry like a baby.
Thanks, Joel, for reminding me to change my fucking subtitle. And since you’re drunk, I won’t come down too hard on you for failing to recognize that Glenn Kenny in 1977 and Armond White in 2009 are two rather different things. Enjoy “Pinocchio,” it’s great. And understand that I really don’t have any problem with a director who has a moral perspective!
Yes, I feel that Armond contains multitudes. His more odious traits are obvious and well-documented (by you and others), and are so odious that they may well trump any redeeming qualities. But I think it’s worth digging to find the trace elements of clear-eyed (if provocative) insight and humanity.
I feel that Armond’s worst hypocrisy is his putative (I picked up this word from you, Glenn) favoring of “humanism” in films while acting absolutely monstrous and misanthropic in his assessment of almost every human being besides himself. But pieces like that “Be Kind Rewind” review (see also his “My Blueberry Nights” review) hint that he may once have been human after all.
Of course, I probably should be watching it on Blu-Ray instead of waiting out these commercials, but thanks for the drunk-guy handicap. Also, I’m thankful for the nostalgia. My weirdo atonal-jazz geek phase is a great source of amusement for my wife. On one of our first dates, ten years ago, I took her to see the remaining members of the Chicago Art Ensemble. She gritted her teeth and married me anyway.
By the way, EJ’s right. Armond got My Blueberry Nights in a way that few other critics did.
Damn, Joel, it still breaks my heart that so many blinkered critics dismissed My Blueberry Nights. I think it was a case of reverse racism…or maybe just regular racism…or something. If Wong had released the same film with Chinese actors speaking Chinese dialogue, it would’ve been as much a critical hit as his previous films, is what I’m saying. However, Armond wasn’t the only critic who got it: his former NY Press colleague Matt Zoller Seitz, who I like to think of as the light-magic Armond, wrote a stunning, glowing review for The House Next Door that I’m too lazy to link to presently. It began with the line “Wong Kar-wai’s films aren’t just intoxicating; they’re intoxicated.” Despite my defense of Armond in this thread, it does rather break my heart that Seitz is retired and Armond still chugging away.
Did some Googling around but couldn’t find the only piece of countering evidence I can remember, a bit of semi-rapturous praise for Scritti Politti’s “Cupid & Psyche 85” (and its 12-inch remixes) in the Pazz & Jop poll supplement that I remember being quite taken with way back then. Of course it helped that I loved (and still love) that album, so some confirmation bias may exist, but I don’t think that’s the whole of it. I did turn up a positive review of one of their (his, I mean) later albums that was nothing special but at least mostly lucid. Lemme look a little more…
And yes, the fact that that little bit of writing from almost 25 years ago is the only one that comes to mind certainly says something. Back in the early ’00s I impulse-plucked a collection of his writings off a library shelf and about halfway through, immersed in the (I agree, often sheer non-sequiter-ish) recesses of his mind I actually found myself wondering if this stuff was really fucking nuts as it sounded, or if the problem was me. Thankfully it didn’t take too long after setting the book down for the answer to come to me, but damn.
@ Earthworm Jim: I think I’ve picked up “putative” from here, too. Or from a recent reading of Infinite Jest. Or both.
A.W.-as-paradox sounds about right, or maybe A.W.-as-critical-manifestation-of-Heisenberg’s-uncertainty-principle.
You might have offended jazz students, Glenn, but at least in your school’s paper you never wrote the headline “V for Vendawesome.” Unfortunately for myself, and for humanity at large, I can’t say the same.
Actually, I wasn’t trying to defend White or slight your criticism of him. I just wanted to discuss Clive James. I disliked the historical parts of “Cultural Amnesia,” and I heard that some people were not that enthusiastic about his film criticism.
I think each of us can find a moment when we happen to agree with Armond White, but, for me, it has never been about the opinion, but about how he makes his argument and, as Glenn points out, his lack of writing ability.
It may be easy to label White as someone crazy, but I just don’t think he’s as intellectual about film as much as he and his supporters try so hard to convince us. White gets basic facts about movies wrong that makes me wonder if he actually saw the film or was paying attention. His sentences are not well-constructed considering he’s been writing for quite awhile now. And making an argument requires more than railing against other critics and using adjectives as “stupid”.
White’s supporters are actually upset that Ebert labeled White a “troll”, but I don’t remember any uproar over the many nasty potshots White took at Ebert over the years. I certainly don’t mind the idea of having a contrarian critic, but why can’t that person be a little more intelligent?
And can any of White’s supporters explain to me why he suddenly doesn’t like “The Hurt Locker” mere weeks after raving about it? Are we really to believe his opinions are his own or mere self-promotion when he consistently turns on movies he initially lauded because too many critics agreed with him?
I’ll admit that I haven’t read much of the reactions against White, but judging from the defense that Roger Ebert wrote, I’d be inclined in principle to sympathize with Armond, since it looked as if most of the fanboys protesting were the same kind of illiterate youngsters that we were complaining about in the other thread a few days ago, the ones who think that “The dark knight” is the best movie ever made in human history, and look at you funny if you even dare to mention a movie not spoken in English.
…That is, I *would* be inclined to sympathize with Armond White, if it wasn’t because of all the abundant evidence that our host and other people have gathered, as well as my own readings of him. “Before sunset” is hipster trash? “Munich” a masterpiece? Feh. As it is, I’m afraid that “a pox on both their houses” is the only possible reaction.
As for “My blueberry nights”, I have the impression that american critics hated it for the same reason spanish critics love every Woody Allen movie made in the last 10 years except “Vicky Cristina Barcelona”, or why british critics loved VCB but hated “Match point”, or why american critics told Truffaut “you just love ‘The rear window’ because you’re not from New York, so you don’t know what Greenwich Village really looks like”. When a foreign director screws up with some of those specific details that give “realness” to a place (accents, people’s attitudes and behaviour, set decoration, etc.), it’s very hard for those intimately familiar with the place to overlook it and try to focus on appreciating purely its aesthetical virtues.
I wouldn’t label him literally crazy, no. Though this doesn’t entirely cover it, reading his book was more like being in a half-lucid dream, listening to someone speak in a manner that sounds like they have a point to make that truly means a great deal to them…but what that point is exactly keeps eluding you, and trying to focus in on the words a little more just brings the realization that a lot of it’s just nonsense. Crazy sort of like that.
BTW, while I have some strong reservations about “Blueberry Nights,” I am absolutely NOT in the out-and-out “anti” camp. I’d hit a Blu-ray of that sucker in a minute.
If I don’t defend Armond at times, the value of my t‑shirts go down. C’mon Glenn.
@ lichman: Excellent point. Hey, when do those things ship? And now that you’re in L.A., you should try to get Dov Charney on board. Maybe I could convince Sasha Grey to model one…
Holy shit. I think I just had an actual IDEA…
Armond White, it seems to me could easily be described (and not unreasonably) as a fascist commentator on film. I daren’t use the word critic because I don’t think he is.
Just felt the need to note that Armond White- Armond f@#$%ng White- stating in his “GI Joe” review that other critics attack films like “Transformers 2” and “GI Joe” with “inconsistent and arbitrary affectation” gave me as good a laugh as anything I’ve ever read.
@glenn
as of now, planning to get them in nyc when i arrive for nyff.
@ lichman: e‑mail me. As Sellers sez at the end of “Strangelove,” I have a plan…
Nice piece, as always, but two points spring immediately to mind:
White’s entire raison d’être, is, as you so accurately pointed out, is “that every other critic is a moral degenerate and an aesthetic cretin.” This was a tired shtick when Tony Parsons and Julie whatsherface were doing it in the NME during the punk era, but at least they had they excuse they were on meth.
Also, if you think your Mel Lewis review is embarrassing, you should read some of the crap I wrote in the first couple of years I was at Stereo Review.
“don’t mouth off when you haven’t the slightest idea of what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Wouldn’t abiding by this, I mean, you know, put an end to comments sections such as the one in which I happily type?
I don’t think its very fair of you to cherry pick a couple of poorly structured quotes from Armand White and then pretend that his reviews are incomprehensible.
In fact, in its context, its fairly easy to understand what he is saying in the Pelham 123 quote. Namely: when the original movie came out, the premise fit into the audience’s preconceptions about the worst tendencies of the city they lived in. But in a post‑9/11 world, the premise no longer fits the city.
To me, the basic problem is not with White, but with the Manichean structure of Rotten Tomatoes. A review must either be a pan or a rave; there is no in-between. The review is reduced to a tweet. There is no room for ambilavence, and there is no room for critics who want to use their reading of movies to engage in a larger critique of culture.
If you read White’s reivews of Transformers 2 or G.I. Joe carefully, they are hardly raves. White, as I read him, does not like consumer culture. He does not like the infantilism present in corporate movies. But this is, nevertheless, the culture we live in, and these two movies embrace this tendency in our culture more than any other. As such, they are objects of interest for a critic who is looking to movies to explain how culture is created in late Capitalist societies. And the fact is, (for White) in looking at these movies, despite their crassness, or perhaps, because of it, there is something viscerally thrilling about the way their directors preofssionally stage the action.
That does not make them profound or intellectually stimulating, but at least they don’t pretend to be. Meanwhile other movies that are cut from the same crass Capitalist tendencies try to disguise their nature and put on pretentious airs, while simultaneously sucking all the joie de vivre from the screen (his 3:10 to Yuma remark). This is, in fact, a very Andrew Sarris, kind of point.
Nor, despite, the tweet that has been wrenched out of his review on Rotten Tomatoes, is his review of “There Will Be Blood” a total pan. He loves the score, loves the cinematography, and loves Day Lewis’ performance. But he thinks its an ideas movie with a confused, rotten idea at the core and that Anderson’s conclusion is a rushed mess. The movie, then, strives to be a big idea movie, but has nothing at its center. This is the kind of opinion Pauline Kael expressed all the time (re: Apocalypse Now). Sarris too (re: most of Lynch’s oeuvre.) Thus, judging the movie based on the standards Anderson sets for himself, White thinks the movie fails. This does not mean he thinks that G.I. Joe is a better movie, just that it fulfilled what it set out to do (something limited and crass) better than There Will Be Blood. Rotten Tomatoes has no room for such subtlety. But really, that’s Rotten Tomatoes’ problem isn’t it.
@dan
I happen to think your reviews illustrate the problem. If White were just holding movies to the standards they aspire to, I doubt anybody would take issue with that. The problem is, as a rule, White decides anybody who doesn’t agree with his standards must be a complete clod. Add to this his intentional contrarianism (you can pretty much peg that whatever the buzz is saying about a movie, White’s generally going to offer up the exact opposite, hence his “District 9” review, which even people who don’t like the movie think is drastically off the mark), and you’ve got the perfect equation for smug, self-righteous jackass.
I actually worked as a copy editor for about five years to pay the bills (before the newspaper industry went kaput), so I have some experience in this arena, and I more or less followed the Pelham sentence. The second one quoted, though, is pretty much all over the place. I actually tried to diagram it and didn’t really have a good sense of where it was going, though that may have something to do with not having all of the pronouns’ antecedents in front of me. The first sentence diagrams pretty fine.
Had too much to drink at the Red Lobster…
I don’t know, i’ve always thought White is pretty crazy, or at least a little odd. His dreams are something no one would think of, at least no one here would think of.
Armond White is the only true genius in film criticism today.
I’m a nothing squish compared to him. That’s the real reason I quit the Press. I just couldn’t bear not measuring up.
And now I have a hot and heavy date with Chris Penn.