Most of us have some idea of what to expect when we go to see a movie. Sometimes this works against us; expect too much and you're set up for disappointment. But what if we want a movie to fail? What if the whole point is to laugh at something that's shit, or to feel smug that we never fell for the suckers game of liking something that was bound to let you down?
Much as film critics - critics of any kind, really - like to think the best of their profession, their profession is like any other in the 21st century: if you don't give the people what they want, they'll go elsewhere. It's perfectly possible to have a career (or what currently passes for a career in film criticism, which largely involves having a moderately high twitter follower count) based entirely on being contrary, but being "the reviewer you love to hate" has its risks at a time when fans aren't particularly inclined to embrace contrary views. Swim against the tide and the sharks will come for you.
For critics who rely on being in tune with what the public wants to hear to keep their job (or their social media profiles), reviewing is largely a case of getting in first and being just vaguely positive or negative enough that if the consensus changes dramatically they can shift with it to remain "part of the conversation".
Count up all the online reviews (tweets) that talk about how they felt one way towards a film at first but the more they think about it, the more they feel a different way; there's nothing wrong with changing your mind, but you have to have made it up in the first place.
So a film like
Cats is sweet, blessed relief, because everyone knew (based on a trailer and some costume shots) that it was going to be bad. The only question was, how bad was it going to be? Which means the real question was "how attention-grabbingly over-the-top can my review be?"
This type of already decided train-wreck is a rare opportunity for a reviewer to break out from the pack and make a name for themselves if their ghastly hate-take is savage or vicious enough to go viral when "just how bad is
Cats?" becomes a mainstream news story. Loads of people you've never heard of weren't going to let this chance go to waste.
That's not to say
Cats is a good film. There are plenty of completely reasonable attempts by critics and reviewers to come to grips with its weird sexual energy, bizarre non-story and wacky hambone performances. But because of the way criticism "works" in the 21st century, having a high profile film that's safe to slag off means a lot of people left the reality of the film far, far behind in an attempt to keep the focus firmly on themselves. Maybe stick to critics you trust for this one.
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is the flip side of this dynamic. Whereas the
Cats reviews are often openly mocking or incredulous - as if an adaptation of a massively successful stage show suddenly appeared out of nowhere with no warning -
Skywalker has largely received careful, nuanced reviews, liberally scattered with spoiler warnings to reassure fans they're not finding out anything they may not want to know.
(this is especially hilarious as the film repeatedly delivers what is supposed to be massive plot points - and by plot points I mean the literal deaths of main characters - only to walk them back, at times within the same scene. How do you spoiler a warning a film where nothing means anything and everything is an increasingly desperate attempt to shock a reaction out of a jaded audience?)
Star Wars, of course, has a large and active fanbase who are increasingly committed to complaining about anything that doesn't meet their standards of what a kids raygun adventure serial should deliver. And with that power comes, well, power; while the opportunities to be openly mocking or incredulous of
Skywalker aren't exactly short on the ground - even for a
Star Wars movie it's not particularly coherent - for the most part in reviews its flaws are glossed over or concealed as a spoiler even as a vague sense of disappointment comes through.
In the world of film culture where critics reside,
Cats is friendless and an easy target;
Star Wars is a heavy hitter nobody wants to cross. So
Cats is criticised for silly costumes and bizarre sets; have you seen the outfits in the
Star Wars movies?
Cats is fair game because it barely has a story; people wonder aloud whether it's a spoiler to reveal that
Skywalker starts off with the announcement out of nowhere that a character who died in a movie 35 years ago and has never been mentioned in this series is suddenly back and will take over the galaxy within days.
The thing is, neither of these films are unwatchable, and judged by their own standards they're far from disasters. But nobody wants to hear that
Cats is just weird and strange (like the stage show) when the greenlight to beat it up is shining strong;
Skywalker has to be taken seriously and treated with respect, even though the best way to enjoy it is as utterly disposable pap where nothing means anything.
Once the initial rush of publicity passes and being "part of the conversation" is no longer a chance to get noticed, maybe reviewers and critics will talk about these films free of the hype. More likely they'll move onto the next high profile film and try the same thing all over again. Is Clint Eastwood #cancelled yet?
- Anthony Morris
