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4/22/07: Meet the invisibles
| 9/9/07: Applause | Arts Experience home
When criticism bites, some readers snap back.
Arts and entertainment critics do occasionally hear from a performer
they've just reviewed, in messages that range from hostile to witty.
(One nationally known actor who toured here recently shot back at the
theater critic via e-mail: "As for my blandness and imperturbability,
perhaps you stepped out into the lobby on several occasions. Every
character has his angry moments, and mine are no less impassioned than
the rest.")
But the more common source of blowback is disgruntled fans. Fans and
critics frequently disagree. The tension between them, more acute than
ever in the Internet age, seems ripe for exploration. To start the
discussion, we asked The Dallas Morning News' critics to respond
to some of the most common fan beefs.
Mario Tarradell
Staff critic, specializes in country and Latin music
FAN GRIPE: Why didn't you say anything about the high ticket (or food, or beer, or parking) prices?
SAID WITH: Outrage of the ripped-off
RESPONSE: We critics like to think we're capable of critiquing everything. The color of the sidewalk? Sure, we've got an opinion about it. Give us 45 minutes and 12 inches of space and we can crank out an essay on why that hue just doesn't go with the outdoor decor.
Yet the truth is, we're not the Consumers Digest of the concert-going experience. We're not crazy about high parking and ticket prices, either. And there's just no reason to charge $4 for a large soda, especially since vendors pay, oh, maybe 25 cents for it."
But folks, that's not what we do. We trek to concerts for one reason. It's our job, our pleasure even, to dissect every nuance of the performance, from the platform props to lighting and of course the musicianship and stage presence of the singer, duo or band. We put veterans such as Diana Ross and Natalie Cole in context decades after their heyday. We analyze the importance (or its lack) of buzz newcomers Scissor Sisters and Carrie Underwood. Every once in a while, we find ourselves commenting on the audience. The behavior of the crowd definitely plays into the mood of the show.
And once you get caught up in the razzle-dazzle of it all, who cares about prices? If you had a good time, it was money well spent.
Thor Christensen
Pop music critic
FAN GRIPE: What a terrible review! Were you at the same show I was at?
SAID WITH: Rancor and feigned disbelief
RESPONSE: Yes, but I was probably on a different wavelength. That's because fans and critics rarely go to big rock shows for the same reason.
Fans go to see their heroes in the flesh and to sing along to their favorite songs with 19,000 fellow fans. They go to drink beer and throw their hands in the air and wave 'em like they just don't care.
They go to have a ball. And who could fault them?
Call me a buzz kill, but I don't go to rock shows to have fun.
I go to try to make sense of a bunch of notes flying out of a wall of speakers at 110 decibels. I come to separate the innovators from the hacks, the fresh sounds from the hopeless clichés. I come to describe the show and offer readers a sober opinion on why it worked – or didn't.
I come not to bury Caesar or to praise him. I come to judge his guitar solos.
More often than not, I do have fun. I'm a music fanatic, too – been one since age 13, when a Led Zeppelin concert taught me music isn't mere entertainment: It's the elixir of life.
Every night, someone else makes a similar discovery at American Airlines Center or Smirnoff Music Centre or Nokia Theatre. And if my review is less than glowing, they send expletive-laced e-mails accusing me of being soulless, heartless and deaf.
That's OK – I'm not offended: I've already had my life-changing concert moment. I won't begrudge you yours.
Lawson Taitte
Theater critic
FAN GRIPE: The actors in [insert theater name here] are so nice! How could you say anything bad about them?
SAID WITH: Implication that you also eat babies
RESPONSE: If you have never talked to someone, it's much easier to be objective, and to say the hard truths the way you see them.
But after years of interviews and casual conversations, I often know the artists I am reviewing very well, although I make it a point never to socialize. Even so, it can be really tough to say frankly that someone's current piece of work is below standard – particularly when you respect the artist, or find the actor or director or designer quite likable.
There's often a sense of mutual embarrassment when I next run into someone I've had to pan. That happened recently just a day or two after a fairly negative review. We both smiled weakly and talked – briefly – about other things.
Years ago I called one major player on the Dallas arts scene something like "the worst actor in Texas," and that person has always been extremely cordial. No doubt the blood boiled when I wrote it, but that performer is doing a terrific job these days – at something other than acting.
Actually, I think the moderate size of the Dallas theater community – everybody knows everybody else, pretty much – contributes to the level of criticism here. You're more responsible, more human, if you actually know the people whose work you are reviewing – and less likely to throw out some nasty zinger just to show how clever you are.
Mike Daniel
Staff writer, pop music
FAN GRIPE: You're just a frustrated musician!
SAID WITH: Gotcha! glee
RESPONSE: "Frustrated" is the wrong word. I am a realist with a passionate romantic streak. As a passionate, romantic rockhead (as opposed to blockhead), I sowed my rocker oats many years ago. But my realist bent (a fantastic self-preserving trait, by the way) steered me onto a more appropriate path, and I'm eternally happy for that.
Besides, a good critic – of music, fine arts, sports, public policy, auto design or the paint jobs on neighbors' homes – doesn't require disciplinary experience. In fact, such experience can cost us the ability to objectively assess and summarize for our readers, most of whom aren't pros and have never been "there" either. All that's really needed is truckloads of knowledge and context, an appreciation and passion for quality in our field, and a capacity to communicate all of that. So no, I'm not frustrated. Redirected is more like it.
Bill Addison
Restaurant critic
FAN GRIPE: How did you get that job?
SAID WITH: Accusatory indirectness
RESPONSE:
The straightforward answer: I started my journalism career as restaurant critic and food editor for an Atlanta weekly, worked for a year as a food critic for the San Francisco Chronicle and was hired by The Dallas Morning News early this year.
The not-so-straightforward answer: An unquenchable curiosity for and devotion to food seized me when I was 8 years old, during a family vacation in Williamsburg, Va., that included nightly excursions to that tourist town's best restaurants.
"Be sure to put plenty of butter on your spoonbread," drawled Russell Bridgeforth, a well-loved waiter at Christiana Campbell's Tavern. I followed his instructions, and something fundamental unfolded inside me. My mother used margarine. This real butter business was simply better. I never looked back.
Sure, I ate whole bags of Doritos and craved pizza and ice cream. But, given my druthers, I preferred scanning a menu and ordering lumpy crab cakes, sautéed rockfish, lobster tails with drawn butter, veal Oscar and Grand Marnier soufflé. When I left for college and couldn't afford high-end restaurants, I learned to cook. My friends were very well-fed. I earned extra money cooking at a bed and breakfast, then at a catering company and finally working in restaurants. Desserts were my focus. Russell Bridgeforth's buttery influence stayed with me.
When an opportunity to write about food appeared, it felt like second
nature. All my other interests had already been bulldozed by my fervor
for eating and cooking, anyway.
How did I get this job? This job pretty much got me.
Scott Cantrell
Classical music critic
FAN GRIPE: Why do critics always criticize everything?
SAID WITH: Earnest quizzicality
RESPONSE: Actually, most reviews are mixes of pluses and minuses. As with most everything in life, the meals/concerts/movies that get reviewed represent a bell curve. There are a few mountaintop experiences and a few real stinkers, but most fit somewhere in the middle.
Critics are consumer advocates. Their job is to ask if the meal/concert/movie is worth the time and money you're being asked to spend.
The critic is like the inspector you hire to check out a house you're thinking about buying. You want someone independent, who isn't beholden to the builder or seller, and who knows more about plumbing, wiring, roofs and foundations than you do. Like that inspector, critics look beyond surface appeal to figure out what works and what doesn't, and why.
A critic's job isn't to sell tickets, but, in a context of wide experience, to report honestly, clearly and engagingly what he or she has experienced. Rancid butter, out-of-tune violinist, corny plot and all.
Chris Vognar
Movie critic
FAN GRIPE: You should keep your opinions to yourself.
SAID WITH: Ox-gored fervor
RESPONSE: First, I must admit that I've never heard it put quite so bluntly. Most readers understand that critics are opinion writers every bit as much op-ed columnists, or editorial board members. Simply put, we get paid to write our opinions.
To which one might reasonably retort: "Everyone has opinions. What makes yours so special?"
Now that's a good question.
Having an opinion is but the starting point of a critic's job. More important is the critic's ability to:
• Back that opinion up with firm analysis that shows a degree of subject expertise.
• Write in an engaging style that entertains, excites and provokes thought (or emotion?) in the reader.
• Create a body of work that allows a reader to know the critic's tastes, personality and worldview. If someone reads me and says, "That Vognar hated the movie, so I know I'll like it," I know I've been useful.
An irate Evan Almighty fan recently asked why I don't take into account what "the public" will think of a movie I've either praised or panned.
My first thought: Who exactly is "the public?" Is there some monolithic body of people out there that has the same opinion about everything? Sure, maybe in 1984.
My second thought: What could be more boring, or pointless, than a critic who writes what he or she thinks "the public" wants to read, or think, about a movie? Bad movies are made by filmmakers who want to please everyone. And bad reviews are written by critics afraid to step up and say what they think.
Of course, that's just my opinion.
Tom Maurstad
Media critic
FAN GRIPE: [Performer's nickname] has more talent in his/her little finger than you've got in your whole body.
SAID WITH: See italics below
RESPONSE: Once a woman called me on the phone to tell just exactly what she thought of my review of a Michael Bolton concert at what then was known as Starplex.
She cataloged my shortcomings as a critic, a writer, a music fan and, not the least, as a human being. Finally, struggling to find words for her outrage, out it came, the little-finger line. It's one thing to read it in an e-mail or letter; quite another to hear it. The printed word just can't do justice to the sneering contempt this dismissal carries when spoken. But either way, I get it: Who am I to presume myself worthy of finding fault with someone so exemplary, so special, so talented as whichever pop star I have besmirched?
Here's a funny thing: I'll happily grant that Ms. Superfan was right. I could never dowhat Michael Bolton does. In fact, I'll go so far as to make the universal admission that whoever is your favorite whatever does have more talent in his/her little finger than I have in my entire body.
My lack of talent as a pop star has nothing to do with what I thought and/or felt about a performance/show/film. I am not a frustrated musician, actor or filmmaker, but I am frequently a frustrated audience member.
Here's another funny thing. Entertainment trends may be in the process of making the little-finger line obsolete. With more and more reality-TV stars filling our celebrity slots, that old cliché has lost its meaning. Many stars of today don't have any more talent in their little fingers, or anywhere else in their bodies, than we do. More and more these days, that's what made them stars.
Published in The Dallas Morning News: 07.15.07
