1) “Eraserhead’s not a movie I’d drop acid for, although I would consider it a revolutionary act if someone dropped a reel of it into the middle of Star Wars.”—The Village Voice, Oct. 24, 1977 (Hoberman’s first review for the paper.)
2) “It’s a melancholy fact of life that, for too many people (including, I suspect, Tarkovsky himself), the praise of Stan Brakhage is something like the kiss of death. Stalker and even The Mirror have done surprisingly well in limited runs downtown at the Film Forum but, dog knows what sort of audience exists for Tarkovsky in the foreign film ghetto of Lincoln Center and environs. Something tells me he’s an unwelcome guest, one more orphan of the storm toting a shopping-bag full of junk across upper Broadway. Like, who invited this long-winded Russian prophet into the world? I mean, who needs this guy whose movies pretty much demand to be seen twice or not at all?
“Who indeed? You can loath Tarkovsky or you can adore him. What’s mindless is to pretend that his particular genius doesn’t exist.”—“The Condition His Condition Was In,” The Village Voice, Jan. 10, 1984
3) “Since America was a land Kafka knew only from books, the place he describes is as imaginary as Karl May’s New World or the land so numbingly detailed in the Impressions of Africa Raymond Roussel published at his own expense in 1910. Still, it was an escape hatch he must have pondered. Even as a child, Kafka planned a novel about two warring brothers ‘one [of whom] went to America, while the other’—the good one, naturally—‘remained behind in a European prison,’ the writer’s own European prison (a castle, perhaps).”—“Once Upon A Time In Amerika: Straub/Huillet/Kafka,” Artforum, Sept. 1984
4) “Much of what has been written about Shoah glosses over the film’s provocations—its repetitions, its absences, its Talmudic system of cross-references. Review after review contains a flash of recognition—to experience the Holocaust onscreen is still, on some level, to experience the Holocaust—followed by a movement to put the film at arm’s length. ‘If this isn’t the best film of 1985, what does that category mean?’ one well-known TV film critic asked his partner. (What does that category mean? Less than a month later, he answered his own question with The Color Purple, an altogether more upbear film about brutality and oppression.) In light of the extravagant praise Shoah received, Pauline Kael’s negative appraisal in The New Yorker—which reportedly held her copy for several weeks before tacking it on to the December 30 reviews of Out of Africa and The Color Purple—would seem particulrly nervy. But Kael’s response is something more complex than a personal distaste.”—“Shoah Business,” The Village Voice, Jan. 28, 1986
5) “Blue Velvet is a triumph of overall geekiness—a fat man in shades walking a tiny dog, the deadpan Dick-and-Jane detective who wears his gun and badge in the house, the references to Jehovah’s Witnesses, the strategic use of the world’s loudest flushing toilet. As the demiurge of raunchy, lower-class sexual menace, Dennis Hopper is a virtual Harkonnen on Main Street—a violent, volatile hophead, periodically dosing himself with ether to further addle his turbulent, fuck-obsessed stream of consciousness.”—“Return To Normalcy,” The Village Voice, Sept. 22, 1986
6) “Featuring everyone from Yiddish theater impresario Maurice Schwartz to noir axiom Mike Mazurki to the young Cyd Charisse and the strongman from Freaks (1932), Mission to Moscow features such ineffable moment as Paulina Molotova, commisar of cosmetics, telling Walter Huston’s wife that, Ninotchka notwithstanding, ‘feminine beauty is not a luxury.’ This scene added after the film wrapped, was one of several created to satisfy Mrs. Davies’ desire for a larger role. ‘Yes, I guess women are the same all over the world,’ the actress who playes the ambassador’s wife replies. ‘Primarily, they want to please their men.’ ” —From the chapter “A History of Communism,” The Red Atlantis: Communist Culture in the Absence of Communism, Temple University Press, 1998
7) “Television, in Time’s McLuhanesque formulation, had assumed Hollywood’s traditional function, and ‘cinema’ was now ‘the favorite art form of the young.’ This generational relationship was clinched when the newsweekly’s December 26 issue ran a letter by an eighteen-year-old college freshman from Peoria maintaining that Bonnie and Clyde was ‘not a film for adults’—which was why it incurred such establishment wrath. Nor was it Bonnie and Clyde’s violence that shocked his peers: ‘The reason it was so silent, so horribly silent in the theater at the end of the film was because we liked Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, we identified with them and we wanted to be like them.’ What did that mean? Can one imagine such a letter being written in defense of The Dirty Dozen—and imagine it being published?”—From the chapter “Born To Be Wild: Outlaws of America, 1967–1969,” The Dream Life: Movies, Media, And The Mythology Of The Sixties, The New Press, 2003
8) “In a sense, Inglourious Basterds is a form of science fiction. Everything unfolds in and maps an alternate universe: The Movies. Even Shosanna’s Parisian neighborhood bears a marked resemblance to a Cannes back alley, complete with a club named for a notorious local dive. Inflammable nitrate film is a secret weapon. Goebbels is an evil producer; the German war hero who pursues Shosanna has (like America’s real-life Audie Murphy) become a movie star. Set to David Bowie’s Cat People title-song, the scene in which Shosanna—who is, of course, also an actor—applies her war paint to become the glamorous “face of Jewish vengeance,” is an interpolated music video. Actresses give autographs at their peril. The spectacular climax has the newly dead address those about to die from the silver screen.”—“Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds Makes Holocaust Revisionism Fun,” The Village Voice, Aug. 18, 2009
9) “The Red Menace spends a surprising amount of screen time explicating Marxist dogma. Indeed, in exposing the Party leadership as cynical and manipulative, The Red Menace intimates that the Communists are betraying their own ideals. Several true believers—Molly and her Negro comrade Sam Wright—have disapproving parents operating under the spell of more acceptable religious leaders. In one tumultuous scene, the cell’s resident Jewish poet, Henry Solomon, is attacked for denying an immaculate-conception view of Communism: ‘We contend that Marx had no basis in Hegel!’ the requisite fat, sweaty Party secretary sneers.”—From the chapter “The Ministry Of Truth, Justice, And The American Way,” An Army Of Phantoms: American Movies And The Making Of The Cold War, The Free Press, 2011
10) There is no number ten, because, the incredibly bone-headed (and that’s the NICE term for it) decision of The Village Voice to can Hoberman today notwithstanding, I trust or at least believe or at least hope that we will be hearing from him again in print and/or on the internet very soon. Now I have plenty, PLENTY of stories pertaining to Hoberman’s personal menschiness, and of my own longtime admiration for him, and the like; but I figured the most apt tribute to his career up until this sad point would be something in his own always witty and acute words. Nine other passages could just have easily filled the spaces above, and provided similar wisdom, elucidation, idiosyncrasy, and so on; nine hundred other passages could have served as well, too. This space, then, is symbolically reserved for something mind-expanding to come from Hoberman in the future. Good luck, J.
UPDATE: Mr Hoberman speaks, and displays his typical modesty and nobility and common sense, in a letter to the Village Voice staff reproduced at his blog.
J. Hoberman was the only reason I continued to pick up the Village Voice for the past umpteen years. He is truly one of the greats. I hope to see his byline elsewhere soon.
A shameful, infuriating, and, ultimately, disturbing day. End of an era.
An excellent, apt tribute to a great writer. Well done.
Glenn,
Sad to see Hoberman sacked, though after the Voice got rid of Robert Christgau I guess nothing would surprise me. Many publications, especially the NYTimes, have sacked or bought out many longtime, well-regarded writers.
Somehow I didn’t know this blog existed (I found this article via a link on Twitter). Interesting that the first film mentioned is “Eraserhead” – I remember you talking about it to me and the rest of the Beacon staff after you saw it.
I’ve disagreed with him on too many occasions to count, but I try to judge critics on the great stuff they champion, not the great stuff they dismiss. And he’s definitely opened a lot of doors over the years.
I’m also surprised you were able to write all this without a comment about Karina Longworth now moving up into Hoberman’s “head critic” slot.
Thanks Glenn. Hoberman is probably my favorite critic (and a great writer too). Of course now there is no reason to read the Village Voice, especially not if Karina Longworth is now “head critic.” Yuck.
I have mixed feelings about Hoberman getting canned.
While I’ve always enjoyed reading him (he’s consistently been one of the few American film critics genuinely worth reading), wasn’t he instrumental in getting Andrew Sarris bumped from the Voice back in the ’80s? At least that’s the rumor I heard. If so, karma’s a bitch.
I don’t think we’ll have to worry about Hoberman finding another venue. I’m sure he’ll resurface somewhere else PDQ.
Speaking of critics who manage to survive: http://www.movieline.com/2012/01/04/armond-whites-2011-better-than-list-pretty-much-every-other-list/#more-141901
The amazin’ Armond!!!!
Jesus, no! Mr. Hoberman is unquestionably my favorite film critic and basically the only reason to read the Voice anymore, Tom Hull’s occasional jazz Consumer Guides (didn’t someone else used to do less genre-specific ones there, once upon a time? It’s so long ago now…) and the essential reportage on knitting flashmobs in Williamsburg or whatever the hell the editors that are left dedicate feature space to now notwithstanding. And your citations of his recent, astonishingly well-researched surveys of late 20th c. American sociopolitics clearly demonstrate the breadth of his talent beyond film criticism. Nice VV Media let him sweat one last year-end film poll before he had to hand over his executive washroom key.
Gee, you’d almost swear informed film criticism in print media that is not easily reduced to pullquotes was in danger, or something. Nice knowing you, Village Voice. Goodbye.
One JH’s countless insights that would make my top 10 would be his description of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD as being the synthesis of cinéma vérité and EC comics. Although that said, he did maintain that LAND OF THE DEAD was GAR’s strongest film in 20 years, an assertion I called damning with faint praise in my 40th anniversary piece on NIGHT.
Whatevs. I love him, I love him, I love him, and where he goes I’ll follow, I’ll follow, I’ll follow.
Critical thinking has been under attack from the corporate oligarchy for some time. Jim is its latest victim.
His shitcanning will not go unnoticed.
OCCUPY THE VILLAGE VOICE!
When the Voice canned Xgau and a few of the other great critics a while back, I remember saying to myself that if they canned Hoberman I would have no reason left to read the paper. In fact, any time I picked it up in a café I would usually just go to the back of the paper, read whatever Hoberman wrote and put it back on the table. Way to go New Times!
Hoberman is one of the few voices I INVARIABLY seek out after I see a movie. I certainly hope he rapidly finds a platform that does right by him and his readership.
But I’ll depart from the Karina Longworth hate upthread. She’s no Hoberman, but she’s a solidly above average critic I’ve enjoyed for a while now.
And as to the Voice, current ownership has made it clear for a while that they’re not committed to excellence. This is no great surprise. It’s sad because they used to be such a great institution, but they are what they are now.
Finally, I’ll second Michael Sicinski’s praise upthread of Glenn’s post. Well done, indeed. (And, of course, Hoberman’s 2011 Top Ten corrected Glenn’s minor error in the proper placement of Melancholia and Tree of Life…)
Well there goes the very last reason to read The Voice. Hoberman’s writing has been absolutely invaluable on a hundred fronts—if he’d never written another word, his piece on THE LAST MOVIE would guarantee him a seat in Heaven—so here’s hoping he comes back strong.
On a happier note, reading the Tarkovsky quote above makes me reflect that *every* Tarkovsky showing I’ve been to in NYC has been packed. When I first moved to the city, and saw the Anthology was showing STALKER, I went with only minutes to spare, figuring there wouldn’t exactly be a sellout crowd for a slow, three-hour Russian sci-fi flick from the 70s. When I squeezed into the one remaining back corner seat, I knew I was in the right town.
I’ve never met Hoberman, read plenty of his stuff, and when I once spotted a factual inaccuracy in his review of a film written by a friend of mine, and emailed him about it, I got a very pleasant and un-egotistical reply/retraction from him. He’s the real deal, and I hope he has another excellent book in the works. Fuck the Voice.
Six years ago Hoberman wrote an essay about what the Voice had meant to him: http://www.villagevoice.com/2005–10-18/specials/get-reel/
@Michael Adams. The final paragraph of that essay reads poignantly now. He hoped the commitment remained, and it did, but only for five years…
Speaking of movie critics and New York dead tree publishers, am I the only one who finds it odd and perverse that:
1) The New Yorker hasn’t had an adequate movie critic in its pages since Pauline Kael.
2) The New Yorker employs Richard Brody, who is an adequate movie critic.
3) Yet The New Yorker doesn’t have Richard Brody write in their movie review section.
I mean, what’s the risk? Not middlebrow enough?
Add me to those who will no longer read the Voice because of this; even if I disagreed with him – and that was quite often – he always wrote intelligently and rationally, and within the (sometimes limited) space he had, always tried to back up his opinions. You get the same impression from reading his books. I hope he ends up somewhere that appreciates him. And yes, nice write-up, Glenn.
Not surprising, given what’s happening in print media/journalism. (What’s happening with film criticism really stems out of that.) But considering the audience of an alternative weekly like the Voice, rolling back film criticism doesn’t make as much sense, especially with a writer like Hoberman. I’d like to see a good on-line publication (maybe IndieWire?) hire him, assuming he’s still interested in being a weekly film critic.
For some time now, The Voice seems to have adopted a management policy of looking through the paper, finding the most gifted writer in each department and firing them. What can the thinking possibly be? “Hey, the paper’s free! You want quality too?” This is truly appalling. Let’s hope for more Hoberman at some more enlightened place, or at least more fine Hoberman books.
“For some time now, The Voice seems to have adopted a management policy of looking through the paper, finding the most gifted writer in each department and firing them.”
This is true.
I first encountered Hoberman’s writing in the PRODUCED AND ABANDONED collection (a really wonderful book of anti-conventional wisdom that does what great criticism should by making you look again at seemingly “settled” issues and films). Of all movies, he was writing about the much-maligned Prince vehicle UNDER THE CHERRY MOON. Nearly everything I’ve ever read about this film (and certainly everything I’d read about it up until that point in the early 90s, when I was a very callow 17-year old) called it a bomb of epic proportions, a mess, a horrible experience, etc. And yeah, it was a massive bomb at the box office. But Hoberman’s piece was a rave, and he so poetically drew all kinds of connections to high art, poetry, Surrealism, and classic 30s screwball that he made it sound like something extraordinary. He took a film I had no interest in (even with my very large interest in Prince) and suddenly made it a must-see, and when I finally caught up with and enjoyed it, I knew he hadn’t oversold the film, but simply looked at it with a different and brilliant sensibility (and had the courage of his convictions to say “I like this” when everyone else said no). I’ve read him ever since, and I agree the Voice is deeply stupid for letting him go, but I look forward to reading him wherever he goes next.
“Of all movies, he was writing about the much-maligned Prince vehicle UNDER THE CHERRY MOON.”
That’s part of what made Hoberman indispensable. I saw Under the Cherry Moon in initial release, was blown away, and saw it again years later to find it held up. But it got almost universal “bomb” reviews at the time.
But it was a kickass piece of cinema despite the widespread disgust, and you needed folks like Hoberman to understand.
(Very tangentially, I consider Roger Ebert to be Hoberman’s only real peer over their common era, but when I would find an Ebert zero star review, I always knew there was something interesting to be viewed. Odd, but an oddly reliable guide. That rule didn’t work with Hoberman…)
Petey, I’m totally with you on UNDER THE CHERRY MOON, and agree about Hoberman– that’s what I loved about the review. It was one of those great moments of reading and critical understanding for me, not just with that specific film, but with the whole notion of counter-intuitive readings; it was around that time (I guess it started a few years earlier) that I really started reading film criticism and film history and started catching up on classic films. And while that immersion in various canons of reading and viewing was really important for me, Hoberman’s review was a breathtaking reminder of the value and the fun of being willing to go against the grain. For a teenager in the Midwest desperate to absorb movies and cultural capital, that was a great reminder.
The only surprise is that it took this long. I mean, he outlasted Nat Hentoff for Pete’s sake – Nat Hentoff, who was old enough to write the copy for Bob Dylan’s first album and call him “this kid” (or something to that effect).
I guess the big surprise is that the management hasn’t run the paper completely into the ground just yet – though that would seem to be their goal. When I go out of your way NOT to pick up a free publication, I assume the writing’s on the wall.
No Hoberman, no Voice.
“Under the Cherry Moon” is one of my very favorite bad movies. Michael Ballhaus shot it. Richard Sylbert was production designer. Claire Fisher arranged Prince’s score and Kristen Scott Thomas made her debut in it – and its every notion is totally thriftshow. Hilariously unintentionally funny and visually spectacular, it’s Prince’s “Cobra Woman.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkVc7ZCDN_w&feature=related
Kristen Scott Thomas refuses to discuss it with interviewers – which is a shame. I’ve spoken to Mike Melvoin (father of Wendy of Wendy and Lisa) who was there throughout and it was quite insane. A true Baptism of Fire for an actress, yet she arose from the ruins of Prince’s vanity unscathed.
It seems that Hoberman was fired for leading the Voice’s writer’s union during the last contract talks.
http://www.observer.com/2012/01/j‑hoberman-village-voice-01042011/
Yet another reason to think an issue of the Voice is now worth somewhat less than the cover price…
I’ll give “Under the Cherry Moon” a chance. After all, the soundtrack is actually a great album. Granted, much of it’s in the background, but they did feature “Girls & Boys” and I’m guessing “Love or $” as well since it ‘won’ a Raspberry Award. (Bollocks – it’s one of Prince’s best B‑sides and should’ve been on ‘Parade.’)
Hoberman is my favorite critic so I do hope his reviews show up somewhere soon. His book “The Dream Life” is a terrific read. The connections he makes between film and society and politics is amazing. He also did an extra chapter for that book that was not in the hard cover [or paperback?] that included lengthy write-ups on Nashville and Jaws in relation to Watergate. This particular chapter can only be found in a book titled “The Last Great American Picture Show.…”. It is available for free at Scribd.com.
I really love “Under The Cherry Moon” too. It is on my list of most thought-provoking movies. From my experience, I believe that a lot of people just don’t think to watch it, for whatever reason they have. It has Prince in it… or it’s in black and white… or it has Prince in it… or it just isn’t ‘main stream’ enough… or it has Prince in it. Whatever the reason it is most often a case of judging it before they saw it. If they ever saw it at all.