COLLECTIONS & CRITIQUES

A critic is supposed to criticize. He's supposed to pan or to praise to his heart's content, that's his primary reason for existence. What's more, his criticism is supposed to be based on a reasonably complete knowledge of the subject he's talking about, whether it be Egyptian art or American movies.

These are standards which most of us acknowledge, and to which, in general, we pay a good deal of attention. But there's another criterion which has become taken for granted to such an extent that it gets trampled under foot without our even noticing. And that is that the critic has no business addressing his little barbs or tossing his laurel wreaths toward an audience which functions on a different intellectual or social level than he does.

All this is not a prelude to an essay on the art of criticism. It's simply the best way I can think of to begin a series of digs against one particular species of critic--the movie critic. We're raising in our midst a generation of critics of a particularly American form of art who apparently have nothing better to do than to sit in picture shows and bore themselves stiff If the pictures they see are so god-awful that they're disgusted night after night in seeing them, then it isn't much of a compliment to them that they continue to do it. It's probably all for filthy gold, anyway.

In other words, a critic who continually finds himself out of step with the audience he deals with is likely to be the fly in the ointment himself, though he generally won't admit it. If he's an esthete and can't stand cop-and-robber tights on the screen, then he has no business trying to tell an audience that craves blood whether or not a particular thriller is good or bad. He's batting in the wrong league, and the sooner he, recognizes this, the better off we'll all be.

Our trouble has been that we've lumped "movies" into a single category, recognizing the existence of only minor variations on a general theme. We haven't seen that there is essentially as much difference between one film and another as there is between a symphony and a jam session. That example might stand us in good stead, incidentally; "Downbeat" doesn't try to judge Toscanini, nor does Olin Downes rip into Benny Goodman's work. Why ignore this demarcation when it comes to movies?

It might be argued that if we get rid of the superior minds in criticism, then there is no chance for an improvement of the admittedly poor standards of the motion picture industry. But that isn't so. A critic who is so far above and apart from his audience that he doesn't think in the same terms isn't going to accomplish anything at all in improving the quality of what they're getting.

He can help them only if he is enough a part of them to see through the same kind of eyes, and is able to pass a judgment based on values which, though above, are still within the reach of the audience he's trying to talk to.

It won't be an easy thing to do. But it's got to be done if any progress is to be achieved at all.