Of Critics and Curators

 First published January 3, 2013

It may be a new year, but we are still limping through the same old battles. At least, that is one reaction I had to Ted Hope’s recent additions to his original list of things that are currently wrong with the indie film business (The Really Bad Things in the Indie Film Biz 2012).

Everyone in the indie business should read Hope’s lists. Yes, lists.

It started out in early 2012 as several dozen critical observations and has grown exponentially. Before New Year’s Eve, he was hitting the 100 mark. It’s enough bad news that you may want several stiff drinks on hand as you read. Then, before you decide to give up altogether and become an insurance salesman, you should also read some of the responses  to his points. Obviously, I am inclined to recommend last week’s blog by my colleague, Ann Rutledge.  She did an excellent job of contextualizing some of the key financial concerns raised by Hope.

So most of my work is done.

Well, not quite. Hope makes a lot of extremely provocative, profound, and very critical comments about lots of things that are wrong in the indie biz. For example, he repeatedly notes the lack of any kind of substantial venue for film curatorship, as well as the lack of any kind of film critic establishment. The result is a serious gap of any kind of informational and critical discussion of film, especially on issues crucial to indie cinema. And Hope is correct on every point in regard to this failure. He’s also wrong at the same time. As an ex-film curator (13 years) and ex-film critic (5 years), I have some first-hand experience with these issues.

At almost every level, the traditional public arena for critical analysis and knowledgeable information on film has fallen into an abyss. Film critics are an extinct species, and the handful of honest-to-goodness film curators are found only at better-funded art institutions. After explosive growth in the 1960s and 1970s, film academia has largely vanished into the shadows of most universities. The public forum for film studies has become a pale ghost.

Obviously, this is a bad thing, but let’s not over-state its significance. Most mainstream daily newspapers, and many weekly alternatives, only had film reviewers on staff as an inducement for getting advertising dollars from film companies. This was also why most publicists (and some filmmakers) felt that the reviewers “owed” them. It was a complicated relationship that had to be shrewdly played and especially tricky if you had concerns about journalistic ethics. The last magazine I worked at didn’t have such concerns, and I got bounced at the request of a major studio PR staffer. So much for the Golden Age.

Add in the (half correct) perception that the average reader was interested only in the most mainstream of titles. For most daily papers, the focus was on high profile, well-known films. For most weeklies, it was on high profile, well-known and possibly “hip” titles. Most of the indie cinema was considered a waste of space. Especially if they were small indie films directed by non-white, non-male, non-straight filmmakers. I know because for a few years I was one of the few critics who made a point of covering a wide range of such material, and it was pretty darn lonely out there. I swear there were nights, as I made my way through the barren parking lot, that you could hear the wolves howling at the moon.

The situation with film curators is even worse. First, I should preface my comments by noting the curiously large number of people with no experience with the inner workings of a museum, who often have odd ideas about what goes on within this sacred structure. They seem to think the staff spend the day sipping tea (pinky finger extended) while having erudite discussions about art. That is why I always like to remind these folks that the museum world is one of the few areas of American society that the mob never tried to take over. It’s too ruthless even for those guys.

Between the political infighting, back stabbing, routine outbreaks of panic and hysteria, museums occasionally get around to the issue of art. But not that often. When they do, it tends to be a very political exercise primarily focused on what will advance a senior department head’s career. Except for a brief period of time about 40 years ago, film was not (and still is not) viewed as a form of career advancement. In most cases, film curating is more of a dead-end. This is pretty much true at even the handful of institutes with well established films programs. Or, as an ex-film curator from the Museum of Modern Art once said to me: “I got tired of taking crap for little pay.”

Anytime a film program is attempted by an average-sized museum, it tends to get assigned to the education department–a dumping ground for many museums. The programming often ends up being done by someone in the education department who sees him or herself as a bit of a film buff. Sometimes what they do is sort of OK. Sometimes it is sort of not OK. Mostly, it doesn’t matter. Within the institutional structure, the whole thing is often treated as a minor sidebar to a freak show.

Add in the fact that most film curators have a major flaw in their thinking. They do not see themselves as being there to develop a wider, more extensive program of genuine artistic or educational value. They curate based on their own personal tastes and social or political inclinations. The results are sometimes OK and sometimes not so OK. But the methodology is extremely marginal and provides a very limited forum for developing public film knowledge.

So Hope’s comments about the lack of film criticism and curating are quite valid. They are also a reminder that he has been living for a long time in New York, where traditionally there have been many exceptions to everything I just said! Ironically, these problems have been in place for over 40 years through most of the country. Heck, its really been like this since the time of the nickelodeon.

The long-standing nature of this problem makes it more manageable than disturbing. Especially when you lay to rest any illusions about the past. Oh sure, we did some really great work back in those days.

But I would also be the first to say: “Get over it and move on.”