Lately, I’ve been re-reading John Simon’s film criticism, as collected in his book Reverse Angle, and finding that I enjoy it more than I’d remembered and, far more horrifying, that I agree with most of it, especially his seemingly prime directive, a corollary of Spurgeon’s Law, stating that most art is pretty awful stuff so why not accept that fact as a given and examine mass-produced movies from that perspective? That is, most of his reviews are pans, few are pure praise, but that is as should be. Simon’s reputation, well earned over the many decades he lived (he died at 94 in 2019), was as a meanie, a demented pedantic ogre who reveled in others’ physical shortcomings, particularly actresses who failed to live up to his standards of attractiveness.
And he could be harshly dismissive of all sorts of actors and actresses for a variety of causes, some physical, others artistic or even psychological, as well as being nasty to directors, cinematographers, and casting directors. If you want to read rapturous adulation, or even polite appreciation, Simon is not your man.
But I like him. He is literate, and well-read, and he makes a lot of sense to me.
I grew up wanting to become a critic, and reading Andrew Sarris and Pauline Kael, both of whom I continue to read and re-read. I often watch a movie for the first time in decades, and I return to my Big Two (now my big three?) Critics to see what they had to say about the film in question, and I sometimes get more out of their reviews than I got out of the films. I often disagree with all three of their judgments, but I always am stimulated by reading their columns. I’m in awe of their ability to write reviews on deadline, often tight deadlines, which as a point of pride I tried to emulate: watch a movie, and then proceed to write 600 words, or 1000 words, making sense of it, while summing up its plot, its actors, and what it all meant to me, all within a day or two of first seeing it. As a young writer, I tended to dither, rewriting, fooling around with my adjectives and my sentence structure, but when I took on Kael and Sarris as my role models, I accepted their deadline pressures, even though I lacked a Village Voice or New Yorker (or anyone) clamoring for my final copy, and it made me a better, sharper, more decisive writer, even though a lot of the things I had to say were, in retrospect, sheer idiocy.
Is there a critic I could add to my pantheon? Who are your favorite (thoughtful, literate, insightful) movie critics? I like Roger Bbert’s writing but find him too accepting, too enthusiastic, too un-Simonian in his sunny view that most movies are pretty good, and all movies have some merit to them. Who else should I sink my (sharp, vicious) teeth into?