A friend said the other day that my reactions to the bowling pin films seemed a bit harsh. I explained that since I’ve been more or less thrown out of the house, I’m simply not qualifying my reactions with political considerations.
There’s certainly no chance of sweet-talking my way into the good graces of these monsters. Last weekend I looked into the calculating eyes of Netflix’s Albert Tello…wow. But this is the business I chose to live and work in. A world defined by situational fair-weather alliances that can turn on a dime. We’re living through a grotesque and puritanical Robespierre chapter in our history, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I seem to be a variation on Georges Danton.
All good critics lead with the positive. I don’t mean that they hype stuff cynically, but they put their enthusiasm out there as much as honesty allows. All my life I’ve been looking for stuff to love, and when I’ve found a film that either hits the mark or comes very close I’m never shy about saying so, or about looking at a glass that’s half full and saying that in so many words. (Like my review of Becoming Led Zeppelin — an imperfect film that I liked all the same.) On the other hand, another part of HE’s mission is to take the wind out of the sails of stuff that’s been overpraised.
A friend agrees with me about Jane Campion‘s film, and strongly suspects, as I do, that Average Joe audiences are going to hate it. Because there’s just not enough going on, for one thing. Two-and-a-half hours of a grim and chilly Montana milieu, and all leading to a message about suppressing one’s own homosexual nature being bad. Not to mention punching a defenseless horse, and don’t get me started on castrating bulls with a sharp blade.
I was reminded that last weekend Pablo Larrain, Joe Wright and Alexander Payne were saying how much they admired Dog. Which means less than zero, of course, as fellow directors are always fellating each other.
The fact that four Gold Derby prognosticators (Anne Thompson, Chris Rosen, Matthew Jacobs, Thelma Adams) have The Power of the Dog as the top of their Best Picture rosters means even less — they’re basically saying “go, Jane…we’ve been admiring your work for years and our ardor hasn’t cooled.” Just wait and see what happens when The Power of the Dog starts streaming…just wait.
