Ryan McNeil
Almost exactly ten years ago, I found myself frustrated with most of the reviews surrounding one film. The film was Mel Gibson’s PASSION OF THE CHRIST. Whatever writing I could find on the film tended to focus only on the film’s use of brutal violence and whether that use of violence was justified.
I read review after review and usually finished them by muttering to myself with grumpiness “…but is it any good?”.
The last review I read before giving up was Roger Ebert’s. Like most of the others, Ebert’s review wasn’t so much an examination of what happened on-screen and whether or not the film was “good”. Instead, his review read like reflections of a man raised Catholic, and the memories stirred by the religious iconography on display.
I bring this up now, because recently a fellow writer who I respect needled me about the structure of my reviews.
His issue was with a recent post, where I wrote about the mildly interesting ideas the film unfurled, what they made me think about, and left it at that. I finished the post with a star-rating like I usually do and clicked “post”.
This reader didn’t think that was enough.
Specifically, the film I wrote about was a film this person adored. So when my review finished with a 3-stars-out-of-four rating, they wondered what the film had done wrong to lose an entire star.
To begin with, few things could annoy me more than a person who pays more attention to the stars at the bottom of my reviews than the words that lead up to it. Anyone can watch film after film and assign them star-ratings. Heck, if that’s all I was doing I’d have time to watch more movies.
The words are where my brain went. The words are where my heart is. The words are what matters.
Star-ratings have long been a point of contention for me. I’ve written post after post about what they mean, how I arrive at them, how a flawed film can get a great rating, and how a great film can get a less-than-perfect rating. I’ve adopted a rating system into my writing primarily for format, and because it allows my reviews to fit into a larger eco-system of film criticism, but I don’t much believe in ratings.
I believe in them so little actually, that two years ago I quietly took them out of my reviews’ headlines and dropped them down to the bottom. I grew tired of people reading only because a film was scored especially high or especially low. I grew tired of people reading because they adamantly agreed or adamantly disagreed with the score.
I want readers to read because they want to read, not because my headline says “One of this year’s best!!”
Putting that aside, my reader suggested that perhaps I shouldn’t have labelled my piece “a review”. Perhaps, since it was more thoughts, ideas and insights from the film, that it would have been better served being called “a reaction piece” or some other such heading.
For all I know, this might be your frustration with my reviews as well, and if it is I can only suggest one thing:
Stop reading them.
The way I write about a film is a style of luxury and one that reflects not only the film on the screen, but my own state of being as I watch it. It is a luxury I enjoy because I am not handing my work over to a larger publication that wants more neutrality and deeper intellectual critique. While that burns in the back of many of our brains as an aspiration, to change one’s entire approach to writing is not just a matter of “acting like ya been there before”. It involves tools that I don’t possess, and a line of thinking that I do not employ. While that might mean that I may never write for Sight & Sound or Cinema Scope, I’m good with that.
The reviews that I write and the way I write them have allowed me to build something small of my own, and nurture a community around it. They have allowed me a way to reflect not just on what I’m seeing and how it works, but on who I am and where I’ve been.
I’ve said before that some of the best movies I’ve seen are the ones that make my mind wander outside of the cinema doors. I struggle to concentrate on the narrative on-screen since I’m too busy thinking about who I used to be, what’s happening in our world, or how we got there. Heck, some of my best-recieved reviews recently were ones that were less about the film itself and more about ideas like the teenage struggle, the nature of marriage in 2013, and what we understand about the lives we lead.
Were any of them especially insightful on what makes them work as films? Fuck no. Were they a collection of thoughts, ideas, and insights? Absolutely.
I’m not here to suggest that the way I write is the way I will always write – for proof, look at some of my older reviews and notice the difference. However, what I am here to say is that there is more than one way to skin a cat. As you start reading reviews for any given film, you’ll notice that most critics tend to say the same things in slightly different ways. So why would you come here to read what I have to say if it’s a slightly different version of what they say?
The answer is to make my writing my own – to focus on the positives as much as I can, and express the personal reflections they spark. Sometimes they will reflect the rating at the bottom of the post with great clarity, sometimes they won’t.
The point is that I am putting pieces of my brain up on to the internet with the hopes that you, dear reader, will find them insightful, thoughtful, and worthwhile.
To that end, these are the best piece of my brain I can offer.
Nice job here, Mr. McNeil.
Many thanks!
I, for one, find such a style of writing much more interesting. If people want a consumer review of a movie, there are hundreds upon hundreds of writers who already do that. If you want to read a thoughtful piece about how a film affected someone and what it made them think about, you’ve got a much smaller body of writers to read, but you’re going to get more out of reading those writings than just the confines of the movie itself.
Keep going this way. It can lead to more frustration, but the end result is far greater and your loyal readers are here for that writing, not consumer reviews. Most of my favorite writings on film are as much about the writer’s life and journey as revealed through film as the films themselves.
It’s interesting that you bring up the consumer review (that comes up a bit in the Ebert doc), because I think what my commenter had in mind was something more scholarly and thorough – like what I associate with your writing.
Thing is, putting aside whether I want to spend time and words going over perceived flaws, this is where my lack of background comes in. If someone wanted a complete breakdown of the in’s and out’s of a film, including influence and context – I’d rather point them towards you. I can’t do what you do, so why bother to try?
What I believe in doing instead is working with my strengths to write something perhaps less intellectual, but uniquely mine.
Thanks for reading James, and for inspiring me to be better.
Amen, Ryan. Keep doing what you’re doing and how you’re doing it. I consider it a privilege to read your stuff.
You have inspired an awful lot of it, sir. Thanks for helping me get a little better at this.
Your guest on your most recent Matineecast, Marya, had a beautiful tweet the other day that said “but also stop looking at movies as good/bad and you’ll start enjoying them more than you ever knew was possible.” That’s the perfect mantra for movie reviewing or criticism or whatever you want to call it, if you ask me, and that, sir, is the template you follow. You said your “Life Itself” piece was less a review than a reflection, and that’s what film should make us do, right? Reflect.
Film, when it’s really working, is a lens for life. It’s not about stars and good/bad. I believe that with all my heart and it’s why I read your site. Keep doing what you do, man.
I owe you a beer for pointing me towards that tweet.
this is exactly how I feel about writing on film. that’s why my Oscar Vault Monday posts (if I ever start that up again!) are more about the history of the film and/or my history with the film, rather than “is it good?” or “did it deserve more/less Oscars?!”
That’s the thing about “is it good/did it deserve”: it changes as time passes, right?
Some things grow in stature, some things wither. Besides my hesitancy to rate films in general, I’m dead-set against rating anything before my adult lifetime because “I wasn’t there”. I didn’t sit in that theatre and experience it as new, nor did I feel how it changed anything that came before it. There’s a certain context that fades over time, and without that context ranking the film is impossible.
Talking about how a film makes one feel, however…
Definitely. I’ve found that nuanced writing that’s more about your personal reaction than some objective viewing of something being “good” is a lot more engaging. It expands the discussion beyond “the acting was great” to personal stories and how the movies strike us. This has been a big change for me since I started writing so frequently, and it’s one of the main reasons I’m a reader of your site.
Thank-you sir – and happy birthday!
You’re too kind. Thanks for all the inspiration; this post was percolating in my brain while I was writing about a few movies yesterday.
I couldn’t love this post more Ryan. As someone who is still trying to work out how to go about responding to films (for myself, not for any hopes to get into the field), this is a wonderful summation and a proud defense on your writing, which I love by the way. I tend to appreciate a personal touch and/or perspective much more than the somewhat distancing critique many writers employ.
That’s interesting, because I’ve always loved the way you respond to films (which is to say, you’re smarter than I am).
Thanks C, for what it’s worth I think there is a place for “less distance” in criticism.
I love this. I feel the same way. No two writers are alike. While we should follow certain guidelines to make sure that we’re ethical, thorough, and fair, it doesn’t mean that we should all write the same way. Furthermore, the nature of film is so subjective that it is literally impossible for 2 people to see 1 film and come away with identical opinions, feelings, or after-thoughts. The fun is in discussing, disagreeing, and maybe even seeing the movie in a new light. More than once I’ve personally had you completely re-frame some of my favourite films for me (500 DAYS OF SUMMER, for instance).
Furthermore, if you truly love a film, someone else not loving it as much or in the same way shouldn’t affect your own enjoyment of it. Opinions are like assholes, but it’s a special person who has the ability to articulate those opinions beautifully wielding the most powerful weapon of all- the written word.
I will forever be proud of changing your mind on (500) DAYS OF SUMMER. It’s right up there with the year my bantam hockey team won the division championship.
I’m not sure how much of a difference it makes, but most of my film blogger friends write exclusively about classic films, and while I enjoy their blogs one and all, I often find that many of them employ a formal, scholarly approach to their writing that tends to make their blogs read similarly after awhile. It’s as if someone said to them, “If you’re gonna write about classic movies, this is how you must do it.” It’s not wrong by any means, but sometimes I wish they’d take a more informal approach every once in awhile.
I write the way I do because I knew it would be the only chance I had at standing out, at not coming across as one more film blog out of thousands, if not tens of thousands. (Plus, I knew that if I tried to write like a professional film critic, I’d sound pretty weak.) So I’m glad to see someone else validate a more personalized approach to film blogging.
Funny that you bring up writing about classics:
One of the main reasons I encourage people to watch/write about blindspots is because I believe the very best films endure. I believe that with every passing generation they can say different things and relate in different ways to the world as it stands in that moment. So while the umpteenth critical essay on LA DOLCE VITA is fascinating, I’m more fascinated by what Fellini’s film says to the writer…how it relates to what they’ve seen and done…what it makes them think of in the world around them.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; I love the way you write. Your entries are the perfect marriage of what you watched and what happened around you as you watched it. I can’t write that way (I’ve tried), so it always makes your work stand out to me.
Keep doing it, OK?
Totally agree with you here mate. You should definitely write how you want to, otherwise there’s no fun in it. If people have an issue with it then that’s their problem, there’s plenty more who dig it. Keep up the good work man!
Cheers, sir.
I actually really love the way you reflect the movies you watch through the thoughts they call up to the surface of your mind. I felt it was a more unique way of critiquing a film. I have a totally unique way of looking at media and story and so I totally get what you are saying. I think it’s great Ryan is Ryan. We need more people who just stand as themselves and don’t meld into the crowd.
Thank-you for this Dani. I’m deeply in awe of your prowess as a writer, so this is very high praise for me to start my week to.
Amen to that, sweet powers. My blogging/writing style has evolved quite a bit, stemming from the days I was writing for the paper – so I’d write reviews on everything – and then choosing what films I wrote about, and then kind of abandoning reviews altogether. What I’ve found is that I see films so late living in NZ, and the blogging world has such a short window for reviewing films. Like, I saw Gravity a week after everyone else and I felt like I was writing stuff about it years after it was released. And if you’re going to fit into that short window, you have to write reviews that just look at the technical stuff, the acting, the plot etc. It is really boring. And it is definitely not me.
If you flick through my site now, it is mostly editorial stuff. For one reason: no-one gives a crap about what I have to say about Christian Bale in American Hustle or Matthew McConaughey in Dallas Buyers Club. Instead, I wanna write questions about improv through my own experience with improv at school, or compare movies about excess to songs by Lorde etc. I just find it more interesting. Because after all, blogging is a hobby. We don’t get paid to say whatever everyone else is saying, we get to say what we want. And I, for one, would rather read new stuff, about how a particular person felt about a movie, instead of what they saw in the movie.
And if there’s anyone who influenced this change, it is definitely you, Ryan.
Thanks love – and you touched on a key point:
If somebody wants to pay me to do this, I’ll bend my style into whatever shape they want. As long as I’m doing it for the love of the game, this is what I want to put out there.
I have no problem with star ratings, or any ratings system, and as such they’ve never vexed me. I understand how some others struggle with them, but for me they are a valid approach to discussing film and I find them helpful.
As far as your writing is concerned, just write what you feel is most honest. I appreciate the various types of reviews that populate the critical landscape. I sometimes oscillate myself between different styles. One review can be more structure focused- acting, color choices, set design, etc.- while the next review can be focused exclusively on my emotional and intellectual reaction to the film. Neither approach is wrong, both have their merits and are perfectly valid, and interesting, approaches to expressing one’s thoughts on a film.
Essentially I’m an advocate for critics expressing themselves. Find whatever style works for you and run with it. The people who appreciate your style will show up, and even if they don’t that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you feel you’re being honest to yourself and that you’re having fun writing about the world of film.
Thanks Bill, nice of ya to drop by!
For me what’s ‘most honest’ is to look for virtue. Don’t get me wrong, every once in a while something is a complete clustercuss and needs to be dragged out…but the amount of times that happens is far lower than most people would believe. Even if a film is deeply flawed or flat out messy, there is virtue in it.
So while I’m not trying to paint this space as a spot where turds are polished daily, I will say that I make it a mission to spend time and energy discussing what works, instead of what doesn’t.
Thanks for dropping by.
I find that I do quite enjoy that style of writing, and I know another blogger who I enjoy that shares the same technique is The Velvet Cafe. There’s always a place for more individualized writing, and I think there’s honestly two types of people that read film criticism. One type wants to know whether or not they will enjoy said movie and cares mostly for what the movie is about and what the star rating is. The other is reading the review to read thoughts on film regardless of whether or not they will watch or have already seen the movie in question. And possibly a third type who reads critism of movies they have already seen to try and gain further insight into that film (or at least to see if the writer agrees with their opinion or not).
Actually, strike that because I think most people fall into any of those three categories on a given day, I know I do, and it’s usually more dependent on the movie itself rather than the writer. I’m certain I’m rambling, but I also have to mention that I avoid star ratings on my site completely, and somewhat reluctantly/arbitrarily use them on sites like IMDB and Letterboxd. I actually like Letterboxd’s system because I can rate a movie differently every time I re-watch it. There may or may not be a point in this comment, but here it is.
I hear ya, sir. One of these days I think I’ll cave and ditch the star ratings altogether.
I don’t think your ratings are unnecessary or annoying but indeed, I don’t really need them. It’s just nice to have them as a kind of closure at the end of a review. Also, about the term ‘review’, think about what it actually means, etymologically. It’s a look back at something, and that look doesn’t have to be as objective and neutral as possible. There are such reviews, surely, but even Roger Ebert has his own opinion as the base for his ‘reviews’. Everyone does. Of course, you can choose to let your own experience of the film weigh more or less – but to say that a more emotional review isn’t a review is stupid. I for one like the more emotional reviews better because an objective review doesn’t help me decide more than an emotional one does, and they’re just more interesting. However, I also like reading more formal reviews. You just need to know what one is and what the other one is and what you get from reading either.
Great, great post, very inspirational and affirming me in my own style of writing/ blogging.
Sorry – a little late in responding here.
Part of what I think makes my post is the themes I choose to focus on and the words I use to describe those themes. So even if I’m not saying “this is good filmmaking”, my hope is that one can hear the tone in my voice and from that get a greater understanding of my take.
Very happy to know it works for ya – I’ll keep doin’ what I’m doin’