Every so often, I find myself thinking back to a discussion I had with Jason from the Binge Movies podcast. A couple of years ago, I joined him on a Patreon-exclusive episode of his series, The Anti-Vault, where we look at a film of the guest’s choosing that received negative critics and audiences scores on Rotten Tomatoes. The movie we discussed was Alex Proyas’s 2009 film, “Knowing”. Early on in the discussion, he was talking about how he viewed my personal taste in movies, and how- at a certain point- he seemed to lose track of what my taste was. It was obviously introductory chit chat, and meant to set up the discussion to come, but when I re-listened to the episode when it came out, it left an impression, and when I had Jason on for our discussion on Sexploitation cinema, I brought it back, and we started with a great discussion on the current state of movie discourse. In listening back to both discussions, I don’t know that I gave a good answer to Jason’s first musings on my taste, or what happened with my opinions on film. With that as the starting point, I decided it was a good time to discuss that.
The first place I want to start with is the concept of the “hot take.” At the start of our “Knowing” discussion, Jason says that he viewed me as having “convention taste” until all of the sudden I didn’t (he puts it better in the episode than I can in my writing), and that, suddenly, I was bringing out hot takes not presented as hot takes. For me, hot takes on movies are ones that are deliberately intended to be provocative, to receive engagement and clicks, whether it’s a contrarian opinion on a film or show, or a one-line Letterboxd review. When I am reviewing a film, whether it’s in print or on a podcast, I’m not doing it for the purposes of engagement farming, but just presenting how I feel about a movie. If it’s flying in the face of conventional critical discussion, I’m not trying to be deliberately contrarian, but simply stating my opinion. Certainly, I will have moments where I outright challenge conventional thinking on a film, but it’s often not in the context of my reviews, but when I see a post about a movie, and choose to respond with my thoughts. I guess that is when I am in “hot take” mode.
While I gave Jason a boilerplate answer of having “diverse” taste in the Anti-Vault episode, that doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I view films. If you have read my reviews dating back to my “You Be the Critic” blurbs for the AJC in the last ’90s to my email list reviews in the early 2000s to reviews I wrote for the initial idea of my book (which I promise I’ll release at some point) to the reviews on Sonic Cinema to my views on films as presented on podcasts, you’ll find that I’ve often appreciated films that have unique slants on the world they present. They can be an independent film that has ideas or a vibe I connect to; a big-budget genre film that presents a new world; a romantic comedy that has charm and emotional grounding; or even a silly sports movie that gives me a jolt of adrenaline. I’m ultimately not a hard person to get on board when it comes to films- you just have to present a story in a way that I find compelling. If it’s a sports film, nail the formula. If it’s a rom com or drama, ground it in emotional truth. If it’s a horror film or comedy, it’s all in the execution. If it’s a sci-fi film, meld the ideas and images just right. If it’s an action film, thrill me, while giving me characters to care about.
Some people, I’ve found the more I’ve discussed movies online, are not interested in interesting. To them, it’s all about comfort. I feel like this is where most people live; they want a movie that presents its subject in a way they are familiar with that doesn’t challenge them with narrative structure, or they stick with familiar genres where they don’t have to think too hard about what they’re seeing. There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s not what I want in a film all the time, but as I’ve settled in on watching movies with my mom over the past couple of years, I can see why comfortable, familiar films are important to a person. While a movie that feels like a warm hug is welcoming, to be sure- and is valuable, under the right circumstances, as we all have our “comfort” watching- I’d much rather have a filmmaker push boundaries, whether it’s in style, narrative form, or in presenting a character or situation, than just going through the motions. I’m not at the point yet where I’ll settle for “comfort” over “interesting” in movies, but I can see where that might be important for me in the future.
People speak in hyperbole, whether positive or negative, all the time when it comes to movies and TV online. It doesn’t make it easy for those of us that try not to. Some movies deserve that sort of excessive praise or scorn, but most are going to be somewhere in the middle. But nuance is hard to relate in a small amount of characters on X or Letterboxd, where quick thoughts go viral over long form reviews. As such, that is partially why I just link to a review if I log a film on Letterboxd rather than write my thoughts quickly. Some movies, I do not have much to say- and yes, logging to my review will drive traffic to my site- but I’m not looking to make a review that doesn’t fully express what I want to say. I need to be able to find room for nuance. If you just read my post sharing my review, you’re missing the whole story.
As a film critic, I feel like I owe my audience- whether it’s a fellow podcaster, a friend following my work online, or a stranger stumbling upon Sonic Cinema because I reviewed a film they’re interested in- an opinion that is well-considered, and is devoid of hyperbole as much as possible. While yes, getting quoted on a poster or in a trailer would be great, that’s not really what I’m after at this point in my career writing about film. At 46 years old, I’ve probably plateaued in terms of relative “success” as a critic. As I wrote last year, I think I’ve closed the book on trying to become Rotten Tomatoes-certified, and while there are a lot of other film critics associations I could probably go for, I think the ones local to me- the Georgia Film Critics Association, the Atlanta Film Critics Circle (which I was accepted into in March), and the Southeastern Film Critics Association (which I plan on applying to in the future)- are more important to me because they represent local peers that I’ve been largely cut off from for most of my time writing about films, and I’d like to connect with now. As isolated as the life of a film critic can be, community has become important to me, whether it’s the critics I see movies at screenings with; podcasters I have on my own podcast, or am joining on theirs; or the critics and filmmakers I see at film festivals I attend. Especially as my career has taken me in a more isolated direction, having those connections matter more to me than ever.
This blog post became something more than I anticipated when it began, but in a more positive, more revealing manner that is- honestly- where I tend to live now as a writer. Our personal experiences matter when we engage with a film, and that’s why- the more I think about it- the more I feel like not being able to be pinned down as a critic matters. What does it say about me that I enjoy something as big and dumb as “Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire”, whereas “Argylle” left me feeling flat? Or that a film as absurd as “Hundreds of Beavers” takes over my entire brain for a year, but I finally watched “Road House” this year, and it did nothing for me? I honestly hope I’m not terribly predictable in how I will view a film- that means that I’m letting each film stand on their own as I watch it, and not bringing in biases into the experience of watching it. That’s important for a critic to be able to do.
Thanks for listening,
Brian Skutle
www.sonic-cinema.com
