Review or Not to Review

When you think about it, movie reviews are a strange thing. Kind of like stopping a stranger on the street and asking for a restaurant suggestion. And believing that person’s opinion will actually match your own. So why do we love them so much?

If you spend as much money as I do on movies, it’s not about the thirteen bucks. It’s not even about agreeing with the reviewer half the time. And I would hope it’s not about the perverse pleasure of watching someone else’s creation get lambasted.

So why do we care what a total stranger says about a movie? Any movie? My guess is we love to share opinions. With friends. With strangers. With fellow bloggers.

As a reviewer, I don’t read other reviews until after I’ve seen the movie. But once my take is done and submitted, I’m on the web faster than anybody else. There is nothing better in my world than checking out what other folks are saying. Reading the full range of opinions - especially the ones that are on the other side of the fence. Yes. I’m officially addicted to information.

But I think we all are. Even more so if you’re in the biz. We are a business that lives and dies on opinion. Especially when they’re our own.

Drama - Everywhere You Look

I’ve noticed an interesting trend among movie reviews. Not unlike the trend in the Oscars. Dramas get all the glory. It is damn hard for a genre pic to get glowing reviews. Could it be that reviewers are worried they’ll be labeled movie dilettantes?

Romantic comedies, action, thrillers, and horror. While they may be considered box office gold in the biz, they’re definitely sneered at by reviewers. Not all reviewers, certainly. But I would argue most. And why? Are reviewers embarrassed by the very industry they’re in? Are these films considered the (gasp) common person’s entertainment?

So I would like to propose an idea. When readers review a script – we all know that a script report is really a very long movie review – they base their comments on whether or not the script delivers for the genre. Why not do the same in reviews?

When I wrote reports and was faced with a horror script (admittedly, not my favorite), I always based the report on whether the script delivered for horror fans. Why would we evaluate a horror film with the criteria for a drama? Or a comedy?

Each film is meant to thrill its dedicated audience. The folks who love and understand the genre. And if the flick is smart and flirts with the rules? Bonus points!

Nobody is more disappointed than the true movie fan when a film does not deliver. When we read a review, we want to know the person who wrote it understands what we expect from that genre. After all, if a review isn’t for the audience…who is it for?

One Humble Opinion

Writing film reviews is a funny thing. When it comes right down to it, they’re just an opinion. One that’s no better or worse than anyone else’s. But hopefully, as someone who has watched more movies than God, your opinion has a little perspective.

Reviews are a fundamental part of everything a film journalist writes. Whether you’re profiling an actor or comparing classic films to today’s offerings, there’s always a little bit of a review involved.

Straight-up film reviews probably get more attention than anything else written about the film industry (aside from tabloids). From my “I only watch action flicks” to my indie-lovin’ “I won’t see anything with a budget over five million” friends, they all check the reviews. Even before they know the film’s plot, they’re surfing Rotten Tomatoes for the rating.

So I figure reviews are well-worth a few blogs. Why we revere them, how I write them, and whether they really have any value. (Let’s hope so or I’ll have blogged myself out of a job. Gulp.)

Ideally, I like to think of reviews as a conversation starter. If you really want to see a movie, why should I be the one to dissuade you? The review might give you a head’s up that the plot ain’t everything you thought it would be. Or maybe you’ll come out of the movie thinking I watched it on crack.

Either way, we’ve started a conversation. And if you love reading film reviews, I’m guessing that – like me – one of your favorite activities in life is talking about movies. Chalk one up for the reviews!

Interviewing Celebrities

One of the strangest experiences you can have as a journalist is interviewing a celebrity. Sure, once you’ve been doing this a while, it becomes normal. But that first time? Truly the most surreal experience of your life.

Consider it for a moment. Think of the actor or director you admire most. Then imagine sitting at a table…watching as that very person walks in your direction, takes the seat across from you, and politely waits for you to initiate.

In that instant, you have to make a decision. You’ll never be able to complete an intelligent interview unless you can forget everything you’ve ever seen, heard, or read about this person. Unless you can remember, first and foremost, that s/he is only human.

Sounds easy. Until you realize, in the fraction of a second, that you actually thought you knew this person. Yup. Even we who work in the film industry, we who live and breathe movies every day, fall into the fame trap.

All those movie roles, all those DVD extras, all those intimate interviews. You’ve been watching this person for years. You grew up with him. His face is as familiar as your own family. Only one problem. He’s never met you before. And he’s looking at you with polite and only thinly-veiled suspicion. Damn. Illusion gone.

So. You’re now faced with your idol. What are the tricks?

First: Breathe.

Second: Remember this is just another human being. Stars fight with their families. They have days filled with doubt. Just don’t picture them naked. That trick fails miserably.
Third: Focus on the work. It’s amazing how quickly you’ll forget the fame-factor once you’ve hit your stride and you’re in a full-on discussion of the film.

It’s in that moment that the truly miraculous happens. You find yourself completely relating to someone who, thirty short minutes ago, you thought of as a movie star. You forget the illusion called fame. And you become peers. Just as you deserve to be.

Pitch Your Heart Out

Like any other part of the film biz, you don’t get people calling up to hand you magazine gigs until you’ve been doing it a while. Until then you have to pitch. A lot.

Think about the number of film mags you see on the stands. Every little sidebar, every unique angle on an interview, every film comparison. All brainstormed and pitched.

Not only that, you have to be original. You’re not competing with dozens of ideas. You’re competing with thousands. Try to impress an editor that’s been working in the biz for years. Who gets pitched by email, phone, and in person all day.

Truth be told, this is my favorite part of the job.

Anyone can pitch a straight-up interview. Or even write a movie review. But try coming up with an angle on George Lucas that hasn’t been told a million times. Try finding a creative way to tie together the work of Norman Jewison and Catherine Hardwicke.

That’s when you discover the real joy of writing non-fiction. You’re pushed for ideas every day. Come up with a fresh enough idea and amazing things happen.

You interview the very people who inspired you to get into this biz. You inspire yourself and others to see film in a new light. Some days you even get to speculate how movies could change the world.

And each time, you re-discover your own passion for storytelling. Now that’s a dream job.

Long Live the Film Geeks

Strangely enough, writing about movies is a tough sell. Gossip is easy. People love to dish about movie stars like they’re the popular kids from high school. I suppose publishers know that. Hence, the plethora of trash magazines.

But I’m here to tell ya, I’ve met just as many - if not more - folks who LOVE to dissect movies. I mean get out the scalpel and take apart the innards dissection. These are folks with regular day jobs who dedicate insane amounts of cooler talk and internet surfing to researching movie facts.

There is a HUGE audience who wants to know all about the process, the philosophy, and the craft of filmmaking. This is who I write for. The movie geeks. The people who, if they love a film, will tell all their coworkers and Facebook friends to see it. I consider myself one of their kind. So I write for them with as much honor as publishers allow.

With that in mind, I’m here to share the Dos and Don’ts of doing an interview:

1.) DO think about the interview before you arrive. Prepare. Ask yourself what you’d like the world to know about your project and the people involved. It shows. Trust me.

2.) DON’T answer well-crafted questions with single word answers. They make for crappy quotations. And convey that the audience is not worth your time. Very bad form.

3.) DO give the interviewer your dedicated attention. Maybe you hate journalists. Maybe you resent the time. But don’t disrespect the audience. They pay our salaries.

4.) DON’T condescend to the person interviewing you. They can’t possibly know the film like you do. You lived it. No matter how you feel about their questions, remember they hold a virtual megaphone in their hands. What they tell the world is up to you.

5.) DO coach your actors. Directors have an easier time with interviews – they convey information all the time. If an actor is inexperienced with journalists, talk to them. Discuss the film. The more articulate they are, the more coverage your film will get.

As you would expect, there are many more. I’ll share them in the months to come. After all, if we can’t pass along gems from the trenches, how will we make this a better place to work?

Critical Mass

One of the strangest experiences you can have as a journalist is watching a movie with a theater full of critics. People take notes. They leave half-way through. They even start writing reviews as they’re watching. Kinda hard to experience movie magic when you’re checking your Blackberry.

To be fair, schedules and deadlines are crazy - which is usually why journalists leave early. They have an interview to run to or they need to have to post the review in a few hours. But I’ve also heard critics sit down for a film already grumbling. No wonder so many movies get trashed when journalists know what they think before they’ve seen a single frame.

In this world of information-inundation, it’s hard not to form opinions before seeing the flick. I’ve watched so many films I can usually tell a movie’s weaknesses from a thirty second trailer. There’s definitely satisfaction in seeing your instinct proved true. But more often than not, I feel like I snuck a peek at the presents before Christmas morning.

One of the hardest things to hold on to when you’ve been in the biz a long time is your innocence. That wide-eyed love of movies. After watching a film with fellow critics, I love seeing the same film with a non-industry audience. Allow me to draw a picture…

The critics: quiet, distracted, straight-faced, analytical.
The moviegoers: laughing, crying, cheering, elbowing each other.

It always reminds me why I chose this business. A pure love of story and movies. And in movies, like life, there’s a maturing that happens the longer you’ve been at it. The older you get, the more consciously you have to work at being wide-eyed. But it’s that innocence and joy that creates true magic.

Besides, I figure if you’ve become bitter and jaded about anything, it’s time to move on. Life is just too precious.

Ideal Interviews

I’ve been thinking a lot about my ideal interview. Between crazed schedules and parasitic tabloids, getting serious time with actors and directors can be a challenge. And when they do sit down with you, they are, understandably, cautious.

I may be one of the few people on the planet who would rather not hear about an actor’s personal life. We’re paying them to create an illusion. Why ruin that? Who they’re dating tells me absolutely nothing about what they had to go through to create a character. In fact, it usually distracts me from an otherwise enthralling journey – both as a moviegoer and as a writer.

This strange appetite for personal information has made creating a rapport with an actor a significant part of my job. If either of us comes to the table bitchy or tired or unwilling, it’s game over. And film festivals tend to increase the odds of being in a less-than-friendly state.

It’s amazing, when I look back, that two of my all-time favorite interviews - Joseph Fiennes and Kevin Bacon - were at film festivals. Before you accuse me of selecting crazy-handsome guys as my favs, let me tell you I’ve interviewed my fair share of good-looking assholes.

These two win the prize because they exuded passion and personality. Neither was cautious. Both expressed clear and brave opinions. Fiennes was excited to talk about how the part had shaped him as well as how he shaped the part. Bacon brought humor and perspective to the insanity of the film business. His eyes sparkling with amusement when anyone seemed to take it all too seriously.

Both actors were willing to reveal what I think is far more interesting than tidbits about their personal lives: a genuine opinion on the state of humanity. Actors spend their careers embodying the human journey. They plunge into places most of us won’t even broach in our real lives. Imagine what our industry could offer the world if we focused on celebrating those talents.

Let’s Get This Party Started

I’m sure there are young lasses who dream of being the next Diane Sawyer or Carl Bernstein. Sniffing out facts and breaking stories to land their names in the history books. But that wasn’t me. Nope. I was enamored by fiction. And, by God, that’s where my talents would stay.

Until… I experienced the cold, hard reality of the film biz. Really, it’s like any other business – you have to work your way up before people listen to what you say. That makes sense. But as we all know, the dream looms bigger and has a better marketing budget than reality.

So when a brilliant friend, who shall remain nameless (until I get his waiver), suggested I write for film magazines, I thought, “How clever! Write about film and get my name in lights. Instant credibility!” Little did I suspect that non-fiction would grab hold of my psyche and draw me in with the tantalizing appeal of opinions, style, and quick deadlines.

I was pretty content getting my name in print. While I was basking in the glow of reader feedback, my nameless friend saw a cliff I was avoiding – the film festival press junket – and decided it was time for another heave-ho. Luckily, I’m quick with the ’chute cord.

Most folks work their way up doing small festivals first. Not me. I hurled myself into the Toronto International Film Festival. Deep end, head first. Scrambling to learn the ropes while everyone else was on high-adrenalin and had little time for newbies. The rush was incredible. Hell, that’s one of the things I love most about this biz.

Working the film festival press junket is one of the strangest, yet most fulfilling, experiences I’ve ever had. Binging on films. Dancing with publicists. Asking questions in front of A-list stars and all the cameras. All while juggling deadlines, parties, and occasionally, dinner. I’d pretty much liken it to riding a roller coaster after chugging fifteen espressos.

I was, however, unprepared for the biggest lesson of the junket: that promoting your project is just as important as making it. Sacrilege! Creative traitor! But it’s the cold, hard truth. And it’s not something you leave (only) to the publicists. Speaking as someone who plays on the other side of the promotion-fence, it’s a vital skill for all creative artists.

My mission, should you choose to come along, is to share stories from the press trenches… to bridge the gap between creator and promoter. And, ultimately, unite us with the goal of sending audience-worthy movies into the world.

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