While some take a relatively dispassionate view of criticism (essentially that criticism is jaded and interchangeable, because those who “can’t” spend their time criticizing others out of childish envy), I’ve always subscribed to the notion that the critic shows as much individuation as the artist. They are able to attain a certain level of singularity, consistent thought, and personal style over a period time. In the 1950s and 1960s, critics attached to specific papers, magazines, or broadcast programs achieved superstar levels of notoriety, success, or just plain admiration. At one point in public discourse around theater, it was well known that Kenneth Tynan was lead critic for The Observer, meaning that man and periodical were nearly inseparable, that his views on a production could act as a personal stand-in for the ideology of his paper, the type of audience that could expect to like or dislike a particular play, or even the sort of sense of humor that a work could espouse. Criticism today still does this, to an extent. When most people cite a review, they say “The Washington Post liked such and such,” rather than the slightly more awkward “Stephen Hunter of The Washington Post liked such and such.” The paper itself (as a material thing or institutional body) did not like the work of art, but rather the person representing the paper, its ideology, and the general orientation of its readership. So reading and thinking about criticism in this professional way still has meaning, but I very much feel that the connotations of who and what a particular critic stand for, and their rootedness to a particular outlet, have faded in recent years. Very few of us remember that John Simon was theater critic for New York magazine for over 35 years - 30 years ago, however, reading his reviews would either be enough to make you swoon or flee in terror.
Bearing that in mind, this notice mentions that a very large circulation newspaper recently fired its full-time film critic, thus becoming the first large American newspaper to do so. The Detroit Free Press no longer employs, supports, or gives space to Terry Lawson. What does this mean? For starts, the people of Detroit - people who are geographically located in a place, a unique place with its own view of the world, local businesses, patterns of weather, etc - no longer have a “local” voice for cinematic matters. In short, people in Detroit do not have a personality, rooted in place, to provide reviews, criticism, and comment on recent films. To some, this does not matter. After all, it is Detroit…isn’t cultural decline their national pass time? (No, it is not, but this could be a sign of more to come). Others might argue that internet critics in and around the Detroit area could fill the gap. While this could be true, it might be hard for people in Detroit to find someone on the internet who could potentially be read by so many people, at the same time…in short, for their to be a consensus discourse around a particular critic and their criticism. Though criticism is often considered a solitary thing done at night, quietly, and in portentous monologue, it could more fairly be viewed in its cultural connectivity. Criticism forges (or breaks, or refines) opinions, opinions which percolate to the water cooler, the line in the grocery store, the cocktail party, the classroom, or the tennis court. With the disappearance of a widely read voice, that little bit of potential cultural discourse is gone.
Like democracy, criticism thrives on the regional level before the national. Without voices spread across the country, writing for potentially big audiences in a visible way, the types of cultural products that slide down to us consumers (potentially nasty products made on the assembly line by philistines and their formulas) are ever-limited. Tempers need to flair, with disagreements from Albuquerque to Mt. Zion, in order for art to be worth its salt.