The significance of the insignificant: thoughts on film criticism
Can we all join Bill Murray in chanting “it just doesn’t matter”? C’mon! Everybody!! “IT JUST DOESN’T MATTER! IT JUST DOESN’t MATTER! IT JUST DOESN’T MATTER!” I enjoy film; it’s not a stretch to say I genuinely love it, in the sense that I care about the medium, its history, its possibilities, and even its failures. I also love literature, philosophy, art, music, and a bunch of other things, but I write about film. How come? I make art and have no desire to blather on and bloviate about it unless someone asks and that’s just a recipe for pain for the person who asks. If you’ve read anything I’ve written, I can go on. And on. And on. I will stop. I’ll stop when asked, of course, but I’ll also stop when I see someone’s eyes glaze over or smell the breath from a mouth that is yawning right in my face. I can detect subtle clues! Music I love but don’t write about because I’m not really that qualified. I could happily write about why I think a given work is great/important/significant or wh...