Destroying the Artist: Heckler

I found Jamie Kennedy's Heckler for $3.99 used at a local Walgreens, the obvious hub of film for a cinemaphile like myself.  I hadn't seen the movie before, but a documentary examining the irritants known as hecklers seemed like it would be interesting.  As far as Kennedy goes -- I've liked some of his stuff more than others (the Jamie Kennedy Experiment was pretty damn good), but I can say that about almost anyone (and I'm sure it's been said about me).  Watching the movie, however, proved it was far more than interesting.  It was, no hyperbole intended, essential viewing for any artist or critic.

Kennedy's film starts out with some great stories about hecklers, and plenty of comedians and others in the public eye share their experiences with them.  This examination of the heckler soon turns into a very pointed look at critics and their role in society.  As someone who has been a professional critic (meaning I get paid, yo) for more years than I care to remember, this hit home. I know I've been guilty of writing scathing reviews.  I know I've probably been more personal than I should have been.  I also know I try to write something positive about movies I hate, too.  On the flip side of that, I've also been "heckled" as it were.  (One reader, angry about a review I gave a CD, wrote into the magazine I wrote it for saying he wanted to cut my head off and shit down my neck. He wasn't even associated with the release.  He was just a fan of it.)  That said, I'm glad this film doesn't let critics off the hook (in fact, some of them are confronted face to face with results that are shocking, to say the least).

I could write about who is in this movie and how funny they were (or not, in some cases), but you can look up the subjects on your own.  What is important is what this film says about the critic (a professional heckler,perhaps).  I've written about this before.  Artists and non-artists alike tend to dislike critics.  I can understand the artist disliking them, but the non-artists' disdain has always puzzled me.  When these people tell me they can't trust critics, or that critics don't like anything, I always ask what films (usually) they recommend or would steer me away from.  Inevitably they will name something, and when I ask for a reason why I should see it or spend my time elsewhere, I get the worst answers.  ("It sucks."  "It has cool car chases.")  The critic is supposed to dissect and explain why a piece works or doesn't work.  Lately, though, everyone really is a critic, and therefore you get critics who can't explain their own damn feelings. 

I've defended the profession of the critic often in the past, but even I will admit it gets hard when a critic, like one covered here, tells Kennedy to his face that his panning of one of Kennedy's films has now given Kennedy a new "dark place" to go "cry."A  s someone who has been accused of being "mean-spirited" in the past, even I would not go this far.  (Except, of course, when it comes to that band The Presidents of the United States.  Those guys know why they piss me off.)

What was Kennedy hoping to accomplish with this film?  People who already agree that critics are worthless slugs on the plant of life are only going to nod their heads in agreement.  People who think creators who put their creation in the public eye have to accept that the criticism will not always be kind will think that Kennedy and company come across as whiny, pampered stars.  (Judging by some reactions on the Internet, there are a lot of people in this camp.)  Was Kennedy hoping to cause viewers to feel sorry for him?  Was he trying to get people to stop reading critical pieces on film, music and the like?  No on both counts.  What he is trying to do, or at least what I think he is trying to do, is to get everyone to be better at their craft.  When anyone with a computer can hop online and write anything they want with anonymity, it cheapens all words.  When anyone can go into a comedy club and disrupt someone's act and think that's okay, it continues to foster disrespect for someone's art.  (And while I am the first to admit I don't like all art, I do respect what goes into it.  The process of creation, and comedy is art and creation, is not an easy one.)  Kennedy doesn't want critics to stop writing what they think.  He wants them to write it better.  He wants them to create work they can be proud to call their own.  Hell, while he doesn't go out and say it, I bet he wants critics to spend as much time on their work as he spends on his act.  You may not like everything he does (and you may not like everything a critic has written), but if you can tell there is time and thought put into something, you can respect it more.  (One scene features Kennedy reading an awful review of his work back to the critic who wrote it.  Kennedy is clearly hurt by it, but he takes the time to tell the writer that he uses "beautiful" words.)  You can respect it for that.  We've lost a lot of that respect for art, and in turn we've lost it for ourselves ... and what we do.



I actually don't like writing negative reviews of films, books or music.  (I think plenty of people do like writing those because it's easy, and you can actually have some fun with it.)  I find it to be taxing, and I feel as if I've wasted my time.  I try to find something I can respect in every piece (sometimes that is quite hard).  I will admit, though, I've written some nasty reviews (nothing I've thought was unwarranted, though), and when I did "Excess Hollywood" for Film Threat I wrote more than my share of pure hatred.  I can honestly say, though, that this anger comes from my passion for movies, books and music.  I love and respect these things so much that when I feel they have failed, I do take it personally.

Years ago I got an e-mail from a director whose film I trashed.  She wasn't happy with me, but she thanked me.  She said I made some good points about what went wrong with the film, but the part that stuck with her the most was that even though I hated it, I pointed out one thing I thought did work ... and it was her favorite part of the film.  That letter meant a lot to me.  It showed me that my words not only have power, but they are also read by people who can be directly effected by them.  Heckler demonstrates the exact same thing.

Kennedy may go on to bigger and better things.  I think he is talented enough to stick around for a while, if he doesn't get discouraged by all the crap that is thrown his way.  This will be the most important film he'll probably ever make, however.  I don't mean that as a slam or as a prediction on his future career.  What I mean by it is that he has made something that is bigger than it has any right to be.  Rarely do artists speak out about these sorts of things because they don't want to be seen as whiners and ungrateful.  Kennedy not only shows that the hecklers and critics have an effect on artists and their work, but that critics should also try to elevate there's so that there is real criticism going on ... and not just pointless rants that amount to nothing more than a man yelling, "You suck!"  People may still say Kennedy sucks, but after seeing this you won't be able to deny that he's made a bold film that few others would have the guts to create.


Mandatory FTC Disclaimer:  I paid for this film, and I think I didn't pay enough.  Also, if you click on a link you may end up earning me a small commission.

One Night in Bangkok

For all the business The Hangover Part II has raked in, there are those who are less than enamored with the film.  (Felix Vasquez, Jr. of Cinema Crazed has one of the best reviews of the film, positive or negative, that I've read.)  The criticisms lodged at it range from the fact that it isn't funny to its level of depravity, and then there is the biggest, most damning criticism:  It's just like the first film.

I liked the first film.  I liked it a lot, actually.  I feel like it worked on many different levels, including the realm of the surreal absurd that I tend to be drawn to when I look to see a comedy.  The sequel is a clone of its father, so if you didn't like the original you aren't going to be swayed by this one.  (Of course, if you didn't like the original there is no reason to watch the sequel unless it were to torture yourself.)  My enjoyment of The Hangover is the exact reason why I liked the latest installment (and, truthfully, I hope it's the last) of this cultural juggernaut.

I wasn't expecting a bold, new direction.  I wasn't expecting a sophisticated comedy.  I was expecting it to be even more over the top and was hoping it would be even more surreal (it wasn't, but Alan, played by Zack Galifianakis, was up to par in his ability to tap into what makes Andy Kaufman so interesting to me).  If the film did a radical departure from what made the original so appealing it would only disappoint people.  Director Todd Phillips and the multiple writers had to do was make a choice.  Would they go back and make the same movie and please all the fans, or would they stray so far from the original that it could be another movie all together?  People like these characters.  (I actually like the characters more than the situations they find themselves in.)  People want to see them struggle with insanity.  It's why they liked the original, and it is why many sequels are essentially the same movie with different trappings.  (Sometimes not even that.)

The criticisms lodged at The Hangover Part II are fair and accurate for the most part.  They, like the inevitable sequels, are expected, however.  When dealing with something like this film, the only thing that really matters is: Did it set out to do what the cast and crew intended?  In the case here, the film's goal was to make the fans of the original laugh.  There was nothing there that said the film was trying to win over a new crowd.  When you are that successful the first time around there is really no need to try.  In that sense, it succeeded.  For those looking for something wildly original and different, well, there was no reason to see the film in the first place.  Nothing about it even indicated that it would be a departure.

Are the criticisms lobbed at the film as lazy as the film itself?  Yes and no.  No film is above criticism.  It's the critic's job to point out what he or she likes or dislikes about a film.  In this case, however, it was too easy.  It was just as easy, in fact, as it was for the filmmakers to come to the conclusion not to change a thing about the original film when going back to the mine.  It looks like everyone played the proper role here and didn't deviate from the script.  Isn't that what sequels are all about?



Mandatory FTC Disclaimer:  Clicking on a link may earn me a commission.  I suggest reading Vasquez, Jr.'s piece, as it is quite good and he has a great site.  I did not get a press pass to review this film, and nor would I accept one.

Critical Success

Lately, as it tends to happen every few years, a few friends have stated that they think movie critics are pretentious and out of touch with what movie going audiences want to see. I've touched on this topic in my "Excess Hollywood" columns on Film Threat, but many of you may not have read those. As you can imagine, I disagree.

Yes, some critics are pretentious. Some doctors are bad. Some insurance salesmen rip you off. Some cops beat their wives. Every field has bad eggs, those who abuse power or get off on showing how smart they are. Being pretentious is not a requirement for the job, though.

Part of the misconception comes from the fact that critics and most movie going audiences are at odds with each other. Critics want to look at a film's place in cinema as art and entertainment. They want to see how it fits into film history, dissect it and see if it works by its own rules. They want to compare it to past films and see if it challenges the art form. General audiences want entertainment for the most part. General audiences made Kangaroo Jack a number one film.

When I talk to people about what they like in a film, I often get general answers. They point to "cool" special effects or one scene they really liked. They don't talk about the story, characters' values, its place in cinema or anything even remotely below the surface. They think explosions are cool, blood is awesome, and tits should be given Oscars. This is where the role of the critic steps in.

Film critics have to have a real passion for the art of cinema. They can't submit reviews that say, "This film rocked because the good guy kicked ass." It wouldn't fly. They have to do reviews that can be understood by both the mainstream audience who only wants blockbusters and the audience that demands a bit more from its viewing experience. A good critic will point out both the positive and negative in a film (or have to do a totally negative review in those circumstances where the film has nothing to offer). That's the role of the critic, and maybe that is why people don't like them.

Critics, because they see a lot of films (and believe me, that is not always as fun as it sounds), are less tolerant of scenes that have been done to death. They scorn those lines of dialogue they can see coming from a mile away. They loath standard endings. They, like any other moviegoer, want to be entertained and moved.

I've been accused of being pretentious. Often this is because I happen to like foreign films, which is a ridiculous charge. If anyone read my body of film critiques they would see that not only do I like some "high brow" foreign films, but also have a deep affection for exploitation films ... films the general audience often finds beneath it. To say I'm pretentious because I dare to take a film like Snow Dogs to task is beyond moronic. It's false. Flat out false. (And yes, while I have given that Cuba Gooding, Jr. epic a lot of flack, it doesn't make me some kind of film snob. I gave The Devil's Rejects all kinds of praise, too. That's pretty damn far from anything that can be considered high class.)

Critics of the critics can continue on their attacks. That's fine ... as long as they can justify them. When they can't, it's just pissing in the wind and puts them right on the same level of the pretentious critic they hate. Don't pay any attention to the critics if you think they are off base. That's your right. Just don't expect film lovers to take your opinion of a film seriously if all you can offer is, "It had a cool chase scene."