Here we go again.
Devin Faraci is one of my favorite film writers. He really has a wonderful sensibility, a kind of grumpy enthusiasm for movies and tons of experience that really shows up in his writing. In a world of film criticism where anybody with a broadband account can (and probably has) given you their thoughts on all of the latest movies– and that’s a good thing, mind you– there’s a real value in people who have been doing this for a long time, who know something about the industry, and who have an appropriate skepticism worked into their opinions. Faraci in particular, as an old school geek, typically has little patience for the Geek Grievance Industrial Complex. So it’s very discouraging, and very weird, to see him plug into the GGIC in this piece, where he bizarrely complains about a few throwaway lines from critics about superhero movies. Right when Captain America is busy smashing every record, when every studio executive is poring through boxes of old comics at Secret Headquarters hoping to find some unlicensed gem, when comic books movies absolutely define the current conversation of big budget cinema, we get this howl of unhappiness because– well why, really? Because Manohla Dargis expressed some limited reservation about the all-powerful, resistance-crushing juggernaut that is the comic book movie?
Faraci plays with the fact that there’s only a few superhero movies released a year, although he’s using a very limited definition of superhero movie. But as he must be aware, the cultural phenomenon of comic book movies is far bigger than just the releases. They’re an attention- and commentary- suck, pulling eyeballs and pageviews from other worthy projects and threatening to leave less popular entertainments uncovered. And that’s to say nothing about what actually has power in Hollywood, which is not people like Manohla Dargis, but dollars and cents, and in this domain comic books and superheroes are Godzilla, Goliath, Galactus. Who cares if a few scattered critics don’t kiss your ass the way our entire culture does? How much is enough? How dominant, exactly, do you need to be?
Game of Thrones is the most important TV show in the world right now. It might not have the most viewers, given that it’s on premium cable, although with the rampant torrenting and HBO Go-borrowing out there, who knows. But certainly there is no show that dominates our cultural attention right now more than Game of Thrones. It’s not just the popularity, but the rapturous critical praise, the utter dominance over what was once called water-cooler talk. It’s covered not just in our pop culture press but in every corner of the establishment media, every big magazine, every big newspaper, every big website. It’s as big as a television show gets. It’s got critical, cultural, and commercial dominance. There’s nothing else like it right now. It is completely unavoidable. But sorry– for Harry Cheadle of Vice, this is insufficient. Somebody said something mean about Game of Thrones, and so it’s to the battlements to defend a show that could not need defending less.
What Cheadle wants, clearly, is literal unanimity— he wants literally everyone to like and celebrate the things he likes and celebrates. He cannot tolerate living in a universe where all of his choices and tastes aren’t constantly validated and supported by the crowd. He wants a frictionless critical universe where he never has to encounter alternate opinion.
This is a gadget-obsessive culture. The worship of gadgets is pushed into absolutely every part of our media. If you don’t like tech and gadgets and would prefer to avoid them, you will find that the media available to you has shrunk incredibly. There is nowhere you can go in regular society now where gadgets aren’t omnipresent. The endless expansion of technological mediation into more and more areas of our lives is a project that capitalism has thrown its whole weight behind. Gadgets have taken on a religious status in our society; they’re discussed in the most breathless, absurd hyperbole imaginable, with every new app and gizmo represented as the dawn of a new age of human flourishing. What’s going to save humanity from poverty, war, famine? Wearable computing! The Internet of Things! Teaching kids to code! It seems like every other day I read about techies who are going to solve (drumroll please) Death. It’s like a whole genre now! Solving death. That’s what we talk about, now, when we talk about gadgets. Because we weren’t enthusiastic enough about technology. We have to argue that tech is going to end the central human dilemma, the inevitable fate that has haunted human thinking forever and which has rendered all of us ultimately equal, in the long run.
But xkcd, the internet’s most aggressively condescending comic, exists. Because no matter how much people worship their gadgets, no matter how much incredible hype we build around consumer technology, it’s never, ever enough. As long as there are any people out there who don’t want to have sex with their smartphones, then people will wail about how we don’t sufficiently love and respect technology.
This woman here feels the burning need to defend the internet. THE INTERNET. Yes, the internet, the singular obsession of a generation of people who, by the way, are the ones who get to create the written record of our culture– that needs to be protected from people being mean about it. The internet! Defending the internet! It’s like feeling compelled to defend gravity. You’re talking about a series of technologies and practices so ubiquitous, powerful, popular, and expansive that I don’t even know what linguistic category to use to refer to it. The internet has an incredibly rabid set of defenders, so passionate in their denunciation not just of criticism of it but even of calls for moderation in its use that they genuinely frighten me. If you so much as say “you know, I think maybe some people spend a little more time on the internet than is healthy,” you’ll get a 5000 word thinkpiece in Slate about how you’re an asshole and the internet is perfect and we should all have Google Glass surgically attached to our face. Then commenters will threaten to murder your family. That’s how little the internet needs defending.
I don’t know what has happened to this species where so many people feel so profoundly insecure about their lives and their choices that the most limp, ineffectual criticisms of what they like is taken to be some sort of mortal wound. What is happening in human culture that compels people to be so immensely incapable of dealing with criticism, or even just alternative behavior? There are seven billion of us on this planet. Each of us is an individual. What that means is that you’re going to have to learn to live in a world where all of your choices and preferences and tastes are not validated by all other people. And why would you want it to be? Becoming an adult, becoming a full-fledged human being, means figuring out the ways that you’re different than other people. That necessarily means that people are going to do things you don’t like and criticize things you do like. That criticism and that alternative behavior does nothing to hurt you. It doesn’t keep you from enjoying the things you like. You just have to live in a world where other people are not like you. That’s all. If you can’t learn to live like that, I genuinely don’t know how you can survive as a functioning human being.
I don’t get it, and I’ll never get it, ever.
Well, this isn’t exactly new. Tyranny generally thinks it deserves unanimity and broad popularity can be a kind of tyranny, even though the tyrant’s name is Legion. I mean, there are these two self-selected tribes: those who derive satisfaction and comfort from being part of a large group who are similar; and those who derive satisfaction and comfort from not being part of said group. I suppose most of us have some affinity for one or the other, though I suppose most of us have some experience of both. The antics of both tribes seem to upset you unduly . . . I tend to like your posts better when they are _about_ things and their qualities rather than for or against them.
(By the way, pouring != poring. )
Fixed, thanks!
I sort of agree. I thought this piece was sidling up to a criticism of a culture obsessively focused on comics, gadgets, and fantasy, which would have been interesting whether or not I agreed with it. Less interested in how excited and/or proselytizing people who like those things are. 25 years ago guys I went to school with were incredulous or scandalized that I didn’t revere Rush, but it bemused me rather than annoying or infuriating me. The Thing of the Moment often unhinges people to one degree or another, but I’d rather talk about The Thing itself than the meta-ness of how we react to it.
I frankly don’t know what the purpose of film criticism is unless it is in fact being somewhat snobby and pretentious. I mean, what’s the point of reading a film review along the lines of, “the explosions were great”? I already know what the explosions are going to look like, I saw the TV commercial. I don’t know why anybody would want to read that, unless it’s, as you so often say, that people would rather have their prejudices affirmed than think about something new.
So yes, on those occasions when I read film criticism I want it to be about composition and subtexts and comparisons with the great auteurs of the past, and loaded with weary, withering bon mots. That’s at least got a little entertainment value of its own and I don’t see the point of the alternative.
I think you’re confusing “rushing to the defense of that which needs no defense” with “calling out people who say something stupid.”
It’s absolutely fine to hate something that is popular. Katy Perry will never be hurt or care that I don’t like her music. But if I say something stupid or ignorant about Katy Perry, it’s not some kind of cultural hegemony for someone to correct me or disagree with me.
You seem to be saying that if something is popular enough, you should have impunity to say anything you want about it without criticism or rebuttal. That’s not just an unreasonable request. I can’t even understand why a thinking person would even want to be in the position of being able to blather about a subject without anyone critically engaging with what you have to say.
If “I’m sick and tired of superhero movies” isn’t worth responding to, it’s not worth saying.
I’ve been reading your blog since around the beginning of the year, and I really appreciate not only your writing, but the spirit with which you offer it, which strikes me as genuine, pose-free inquiry and opinion (at least as much as that’s possible on the internet). Thanks for that.
I read this post after reading Sullivan’s recent “Quality of Mercy” thing, and was curious about a) your thoughts on Sully’s post in general and b) whether you see any overlap between the attitude you describe here and the crush-the-bigot sentiment he decries. And, for that matter, whether there’s any similarity to what you wrote about in your “abandoning free speech” posts a while back.
Your last paragraph seemed to me to stumble on the answer, when you wrote about what it means to become an adult. I read something just last week in which a famous comic book writer said there was something creepy about grown people still fixating on something that was written to please 12-year-old boys in the 1950s, and I’m sure his is not a minority opinion. When someone says ‘I’m sick of superhero movies,’ I think a lot of people *hear* ‘For gossakes, you’re forty! Grow up already! ‘ That will make one defensive.
As for defending one’s internet time, I put a lot of that down to rightfully tender consciences. Because no matter how wonderful the program or forum, it means you’re choosing to look at a screen instead of at Grandma, or Mom, your lover or your child, or even your pet. My pets have made this very clear to me on numerous occasions, such that I’ve had to give up some screen time just to be a good owner. How much more guilty would I feel if I had someone more important to me (or less forthright and more long-suffering) competing with the computer?
A number of reasons why such pieces are popular:
1)they are enjoyable to write, because weak arguments are easy (and fun) to destroy
2)they are enjoyable to read, because people like to have their preferences/beliefs affirmed (whether or not the counterarguments are weak)
3)people like Devin remember that culture changes, and that high status today can be low status tomorrow.
Just a sidepoint: In what way does xkcd “wail about how we don’t sufficiently love and respect technology?” And since when does esoteric = condescending? Not all media is intended for every audience. Anyway, it seems there are better examples for your techno-evangelism point – Wired, The Verge, etc.
http://xkcd.com/904/
Techno-evangelism at its best.
What is even remotely “techno-evangelist” about this?
Your post here reminds me of this audio clip of Alan Watts:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IMheNLq97D4
about insecure societies.
At 1:20, he says “…insecure societies are the most intolerant of those who are non-joiners.”
It does seem that there is a kind of effort to solidify a global society built on some aspects of internet communication. And people are not at all sure how wonderful this is. But it seems to be what we’re heading for so people try to achieve unanimity.
To Michael Straight, obviously the point here is about the strength of the response to criticism, not the theoretical right to respond.
In both pieces he linked to, the writer is not demanding that everyone like X. The writer is simply taking to task someone who said something the writer thinks is stupid about X.
Everyone likes to write a rebuttal to someone saying something stupid. And the likelihood of saying something stupid when you issue a broad dismissal of a genre you don’t like (and thus probably don’t know well) is high. And if you say something stupid about a thing that lots of people like and know well, you’re going to get a lot of people responding. That dynamic doesn’t seem at all like some sort of cultural demand that everyone has to like popular things.
I tried posting the following to your recent Bloggingheads video, but I’m having trouble with the Bloggingheads user sign in system. I’d be interested in hearing your response if you have time.
The premise of DeBoer’s argument regarding polygamy that the slippery slope predictions of social conservatives are generally correct is an empirical question that some interesting historical work could vindicate or falsify. It doesn’t seem as obvious to me as it evidently does to him, but I guess until that evidence is in the debate would just consist of exchanging examples. I can, however, sympathize with his sentiment, because sometimes I do embrace socially liberal ideas precisely because they are discombobulating to society in ways that I find desirable. But I would guess social conservatives are not right in these types of predictions more often than they are wrong.
It also doesn’t seem right to say that the same arguments for gay marriage are applicable to the push for plural marriages. The government can’t constitutionally exclude gays from marriage because homosexuality is an inalterable aspect of some people’s identity. Some people are only or overwhelmingly attracted to members of the opposite sex. Some people are only or overwhelmingly attracted to members of their same sex. No one is only able to find sexual intimacy and romantic attachment exclusively in the context of a polygamous relationship, to my knowledge. I’m not opposed to threesomes or plural relationships, nor do I think the government should be, but it seems to me that the people through their government do have the right to construct the parameters of this social institution in a way that excludes the practice of polygamy. Excluding homosexuals however, whatever the public good justification, amounts to infringing on the rights of a minority group.
Unless the cultural monopoly you’re aiming at is Stephen Colbert or The Onion?
I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on, Freddie. Identity, for whatever reason, is incredibly important to human beings. So much so that when your identity is attacked, the term for what you feel is narcissistic injury. It’s why people used to fight duels and go to war to “defend their honor.”
Now, in the good old days in the good old U.S. of A., you derived your identity from what you did for a living. Bricklayer, carpenter, teacher, lawyer, doctor: these old, anglo-saxon words not only described occupations, but conjured a whole world of associations in their utterance: “I’m a carpenter. That’s what I do.”
Thanks to the global forces of neoliberalism, there aren’t too many of those occupations left for a person to construct an identity around. “I’m an accounts manager in the international shipping department at Agglomerated Global, Incorporated.” There’s not much there to be passionate about. And what would be the point of getting passionate about it if at any moment, Agglomerated Global could be acquired by Global Agglomerations, with your job being shipped off to India? These jobs are so meaningless, I mean, I have relatives I’ve known my whole life and I don’t even know what they do for a living.
So now we construct our identities around this ephemeral bullshit. “I’m an Apple guy. I always have been.” “Actually, I think Apple sucks.” “No they don’t! You take that back, pathetic Microsoft fan!!” It’s why our politics have become so toxic. When not just your feelings about marginal tax rates but your entire identity is wrapped up in who you vote for, not having your guy in the White House feels like a narcissistic injury, day after day after day.
But now it’s not just politics, it’s every single aspect of modern life. Did you ever read the comments section below an article about nutrition? You’d think it was an abortion debate, the way people talked to each other.
And I’ll tell you something else: this is why nobody really gets too worked up about layoffs and inequality and CEO salaries. During the Depression, the only identity a person could form was around his ability to earn a living. Now, you lose your job–meh, managing accounts was bullshit anyway, and the boss was an asshole. But woe betide the director who casts the “wrong” actor as a beloved superhero. To the barricades!
I’ll add to my previous comment that the notion of “You are not your job,” this idea that’s what’s more important than what you do for a living are the special thoughts you have, or your values, or the books you read, or your music, or hobbies, is a sentiment that is very copacetic to our current power structure. A union of carpenters: this is a group of people who very much motherfucking are their job, thank you very much. But it’s better for Toll Brothers’ bottom line to hire some guys who build stuff during the day but whose “true passion” is craft brewing.
This is also why you have so many rules in unions around who can work, and dues, and initiation fees, and whatnot: for success, for solidarity, you need people committed to the group identity of their craft. You don’t want some 24-year-old kid who’s going to do some blue-collar work with “the people” before he tries to write his Steinbeckian masterpiece.
Hence the Republican push for right-to-work. They know that more than anything the inability to enforce work rules undermines group identity.
Honestly, I think Republicans understand psychology much better than Democrats.
Very nice article. I don’t have much in the way of commentary to add. Just a short anecdote. I had been banned from the site Faraci writes for, Badass Digest, the site for the Drafthouse. This was after I remarked on an article Faraci wrote on the day of Paul Walker’s death in which he makes his case that the Fast and Furious movies are modern classics. I mentioned I wouldn’t personally say that but that shouldn’t Walker be remembered as a person first and furthermore shouldn’t we try to not blow celebrity deaths out of proportion (as someone who works in a morgue, I’ll admit my views on death may be atypical). The surprising part was his overheated reaction before banning me (“You sound like a dick.” etc etc); surprising because I had been reading Faraci for years, since back in my college days around 2000 when he wrote for CHUD. It was a weird way to be starstruck, considering several years earlier, Roger Ebert replied to me on a public forum that he agreed with something I wrote, a much better memory, obviously not related but the comparison stuck in my mind.
Well maybe I can pull out some semblance of commentary. Maybe there’s a good point to be made about internet tribalism in general. Ebert was even courteous to his political rivals. I doubt I would still have the same level of respect for him if he let the internet drag him down in the dirt.