This is a fitting parody of an obviously bright and perceptive but notoriously crabby, internet-hating critic. Not as funny as FakeArmond, which has a jauntier put-on attitude, but worthy of a man called a “sourpuss supreme” by Vanity Fair‘s James Wolcott.
“The problem with the old guard [of film critics] is they want to talk about the actual film,” VF talkbacker cowboyandthemonk.com wrote on 6.30.10. “There’s hardly much point in critiquing an art form that has already eaten itself. There was once a time when movies reflected the collective conscious and then served it back to audiences in order to stretch minds. That was the crux of entertainment — it informed and illuminated brains. Now, studio executives produce movies to feed collective baby-food appetites so devoid of nutrition that nothing grows. Digestion, deconstruction or analysis is not why people seek out this art any longer. In order to awaken a mind to the joy of anti-monarchist thinking, they have to still possess the delusion that being intelligent is an improvement on living. Good luck with that [nowadays].”