The Frame

American Movie Critics: Hugo Munsterberg

On August 1, 2014

Ryan McNeil of The Matinee and I are reading through the American Movie Critics anthology and discussing each chapter as we go, crossposting on each of our blogs.

Hugo Münsterberg is an interesting case in this anthology – he wasn’t a reviewer or newspaper critic like many of the selections in the book are. Rather, he was a professor of psychology at Harvard. In 1915 he became enamored of films and published The Photoplay: A Psychological Study (from which this piece is excerpted) in 1916, which stands as one of the first theoretical books about film and the way our brains understand what we see projected on film. In the selection editor Phillip Lopate has chosen, Münsterberg talks about how the audience for movies has broadened since its inception, the psychological effect movies have on us, and the potential dangers and virtues cinema has for affecting the morality of those who watch them. These sociological, psychological, and moral questions are ones that remain with us to this day to one degree or another, which is probably why Lopate saw fit to include Münsterberg, even though he isn’t talking about specific films in this piece as most of the other critics in the anthology will. I don’t think he mentions even a single film by name! It’s fascinating to have this rather abstract document of how cinema was perceived in 1916, and see what value it still holds for us today.

Here are the thoughts it conjured up for Ryan and myself:

RYAN
Müsterberg caught my attention with his paragraph that begins p. 11:

Six years ago a keen sociological observer characterized the patrons of the picture palaces as “the lower middle class and the massive public [â€¦]” This would hardly be a correct description today. This “lower middle class” has long been joined by the upper middle class. [11]

While attendance at the movies has certainly slipped in the time since Müsterberg wrote this, film itself still speaks to a massive audience across all class lines.

Why do you think that still is? That one row at the multiplex can have blue collar workers sitting next to corporate VP’s?

JANDY
I also marked that paragraph, but towards the end where he writes â€“

Today you and I are seen there quite often, and we find that our friends have been there, that they have given up the sneering pose and talk about the new photoplay as a matter of course.

The fact that Münsterberg by 1916 is already seeing this shift in movie audience is pretty interesting. It’s tempting for us to think that everything prior to talkies was primitive (though those of us who are fans of silents know better), but Münsterberg makes it clear that the shift in audience appreciation for movies occurred much earlier, more in line with the advent of feature films.

How to Find Your Film Critic

By Jandy

On July 25, 2014

In Film

The death of film criticism is proclaimed every year or so these days, as moviegoers continually declare film critics irrelevant, and box office receipts seem to be totally unrelated to critical consensus. Whenever the topic comes up, one point generally made in response is that the best way to get value out of film criticism is to do a little research and find a few critics you like rather than trying to use manufactured consensus like Rotten Tomatoes or Metacritic, which have their issues in terms of actually representing critical thought.

The most common piece of advice along these lines is to find critics who share your taste. That way, when they like something, you know you’re likely to like it, too. Conversely, you could find critics who generally like the opposite of what you do and then you can just see what they don’t like and avoid what they do. Both of these options are taking critics in their consumer guide role, and the point of reading them is to figure out what you should watch. That’s fine, but it’s pretty limited in terms of the usefulness of criticism.

Another thing I see with some frequency is to find critics you disagree with, not just to choose your entertainment contrary to their recommendations, but to provide yourself some argumentation. Reading a critic who disagrees with you can not only challenge you to see things you might not’ve otherwise, but can help you hone your reasons for liking or disliking something – that is, he/she may not convince you to change your mind, but you’ll come away with a better understanding of why you like or dislike something. This is a little more thoughtful, but tends a bit too much toward the negative/argumentative to me.

My advice: Don’t bother finding critics who agree or disagree with you. One merely reinforces your own biases, the other is only likely to set you more firmly in your ways as you defend your position (even if you only do it in your own head). Rather, find critics who make you think, and who specifically make you think about film in a different way entirely.

American Movie Critics: Vachel Lindsay

By Jandy

On July 11, 2014

In American Movie Critics, Film

After my post on Phillip Lopate’s introduction to American Movie Critics, Ryan McNeil over at The Matinee expressed an interest in reading the book himself and doing a joint series on it. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to discuss the book with another film fan while reading it, so that’s what we’re going to do. Ryan posted his take on the introduction and Vachel Lindsay, the first writer covered, earlier this week, so I’m posting this short piece on Lindsay’s section to catch up, and then from here on out, these posts will be conversations between me and Ryan. Look for the first one of those within the next few days.

In the meantime, here are my thoughts on the two pieces of criticism included from Vachel Lindsay. Lindsay was primarily a poet, but was also an enthusiastic supporter of the movies, writing the first American book about film aesthetics in 1914, a time when movies were still considered impossibly low entertainment and very few people seriously considered film artistic in any way. In the two excerpts in American Movie Critics, one from that 1914 work The Art of the Moving Picture and the other from a sequel written in 1925 but not published until long after his death, he rhapsodizes about the Action Picture and Douglas Fairbanks. According to Lopate’s little introductory bio, Lindsay also has chapters in his book about the Intimate Picture, the Film of Splendor and more, but it’s great to have this section on the Action Film, since action films represent the type of film most enthusiasts of the time pointed to as the major thing movies could do much better than the more established arts, yet they’re also the kind of dime-a-dozen thrill that detractors decried as the lowest of all forms of entertainment. Lindsay doesn’t deny the cheap ubiquity of the genre, but rather finds his way to praise that in itself, urging his readers to “close the book and go round the corner to a photoplay theatre. Give the preference to the cheapest one.”

American Movie Critics: The Introduction (Phillip Lopate)

By Jandy

On June 19, 2014

In American Movie Critics, Film

Reading David Bordwell’s series of posts on criticism in the 1940s made me want to dive back into reading criticism, so I’ve pulled my copy of American Movie Critics back out (I’d previously made it into the middle of the Ferguson section) and started over, because I don’t remember any of it anyway. I figured I’d chronicle my way through it, starting with the introduction and going section by section.

First up, the introduction by the anthology’s editor Phillip Lopate. He gives a broad historical overview of film criticism in general – the historical flow of it from enthusiasts talking about a medium that got no respect, to the golden age of the 1960s and to the modern era, when many claim film criticism is dead. It’s also a good intro to what criticism is, from the perspective of weekly reviewing and the kinds of broader insight that really great weekly critics like Agee, Farber, Kael, Ebert, and Dargis are able to draw within a context that can easily devolve into cursory consumer reports. I’m on record as not particularly liking reviews (or reading them unless I’ve seen the film, a prejudice I’ll have to put aside to read this book), but what critics like these do transcends reviews. That said, I’m still looking more forward to the excerpts that are wider-ranging, like Kael’s famous treatise on Trash Cinema.

Here are some passages from the introduction I found particularly thought-provoking.

2014 TCM Film Festival: Hat Check Girl (1932)

By Jandy

On June 6, 2014

In TCM Film Festival

After each TCM Film Festival, I’ve had a film that I considered my “discovery” of the Fest. It helps that TCM has a Discovery section dedicated to lesser-known and rediscovered films, but even out of that group, there’s usually one I latch on to as the one that makes me grateful for the Fest and for going in blind to so many of the Discovery films. In previous years, it’s been Lonesome, Hoop-La, or This is the Night – almost always late ’20s, early ’30s films. This year I pegged Hat Check Girl as most likely to be that film because it was one of only a couple Discoveries from that era; turns out I was wrong and the delightful The Stranger’s Return turned out to be my discovery, but that doesn’t mean Hat Check Girl wasn’t immensely enjoyable.

Sally Eilers plays Gerry Marsh, a hat check girl who wants to stay clean and honest, but keeps being pressured by her boss to sell bootlegged liquor and be an escort at fancy parties. At one such party, she winds up staying late and taking up the host on his offer to stay in a neighboring apartment whose tenant (Buster) is out of town – only he comes back IN town while she’s sleeping in his bed. Yes, this is a Pre-Code. There’s a lot more plot, with Buster romancing Gerry and getting involved in a murder, and it kind of goes off the rails because of course in a 64-minute movie you want to throw in everything but the kitchen sink.