Collide Magazine

Criticism Under Review

Scott McClellan - Originally posted Monday, August 17, 2009 -

A world without art would surely be drab, emotionless, technical, and utilitarian. Or maybe that grey scenario is actually a world without good art; perhaps the world as we know it simply can’t exist without some form of art. As someone once said, “Let me ask you something—what is not art?” From that perspective, it would appear the necessity of art is equaled only by its ubiquity. But can the same be said for criticism?

Yes, criticism is everywhere. Traditional critics employed by traditional media outlets are still with us, and they’ve been joined by a fleet of online journalists and bloggers who weigh in on everything from films to music to design to restaurants. In addition to the growing ranks of established and would-be professionals, content providers such as Amazon, iTunes, and Netflix invite users to rate and review every product in their vast catalogs. These days, everyone’s a critic who wants to be, regardless of whether their platform is a national publication or a hastily launched blog, and regardless of whether or not they have anything thoughtful to say. So yes, criticism is all around us, but is it necessary or valuable?

“When you see yourself doing something badly and nobody’s bothering to tell you anymore, that’s a very bad place to be. Your critics are the ones telling you they still love you and care.”—Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture, as quoted by Jeff Atwood at codinghorror.com.

The Value
Craig Detweiler believes in the value of criticism. “The critic, at his or her best, calls us all to a higher standard, a higher degree of craftsmanship,” he told me recently. “Criticism refines our palette. It gives us eyes to see more clearly,” and Detweiler should know. As a filmmaker, author, and critic, Detweiler consistently finds himself on both sides of the review process. In fact, he has received criticism both ridiculously unhelpful (one Christian critic took exception to the occurrence of “upper male nudity” in a surfing movie he wrote) and stingingly personal (many Christians chastised him for his less-than-fundamentalist persona in his documentary Purple State of Mind). In spite of this, he gladly reflects on how good criticism shaped him as a filmmaker.

“Pioneering film critics like Pauline Kael gave me a notion of how artistic film could be,” he says. “She caused me to expect more and long for more from my cinematic experience.” To give this effect some context, he draws a pastoral analogy. “In the same way that a pastor might say, ‘Don’t be satisfied with life as you’re living it. Aspire to a higher calling.’ So the critic challenges artists and audiences to do the same thing. ‘Don’t be satisfied with mere entertainment. Long for a deep, challenging, and delicious artistic banquet.’” Just as pastors and Bible teachers are able to look at a passage of text and introduce the subtleties, subtext, and application to their audiences, critics have the potential to reveal deep layers of artistic expression to those willing to look and listen.

Jeffrey Overstreet is another author and critic who finds value in critical analysis, particularly in terms of spiritual formation. When I ask him about criticism, he begins his response by quoting from Romans 12: “Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” To Overstreet, that transformation “sounds like a process ... an ongoing thing.” In his view, the job of the thoughtful critic then becomes “mentoring or guiding or encouraging” his or her audience’s process.

“I think the Christian who is a critic and who thinks critically plays a role in helping others renew their minds by exercising discernment,” Overstreet says. “My website (lookingcloser.org) is called Looking Closer for a reason—the job is to look closely at a work of art and, instead of reacting, start posing questions to help us get past an initial emotional reaction and start thinking about why we are having that reaction and what is really there.” As he facilitates that process for his readers, it’s obvious that Overstreet is a critic who takes great pleasure, not in ripping apart a box office bomb, but in participating in “opportunities to see beauty in things and ... opportunities to ask meaningful questions about good and evil and choices and consequences.” That’s a far cry from taking filmmakers to task for their purveyance of upper male nudity, but it sounds like a noble pursuit nonetheless.

“Don’t pay any attention to what they write about you. Just measure it in inches.”—Andy Warhol

The Dangers
It should come as no surprise to us that human nature exhibits a pattern of turning helpful tools into devastating weapons, and criticism is as good an example of this tendency as you’ll find. Despite Overstreet’s belief in the validity of criticism, he willingly identifies several of its inherent dangers. “Number one,” he says, “would be not to think critically.” We would do well to take careful note of the distinction Overstreet makes between criticizing a work of art and thinking critically about a work of art.

“Number two,” he continues, “would be to fail to learn from your own critical thinking.” He gives the example of finding a particular strain of movies hollow or distasteful and yet failing to avoid that strain of movies in the future. Later in our conversation, Overstreet adds another danger: “to get snarky and get personal and attack the person rather than the work. Critics have made it a high-contact sport where film reviews turn into an opportunity to ridicule somebody and that’s not productive for anybody.”

In each of those observations, Overstreet seems to warn would-be critics against shortchanging the critical process. Hasty reactions, superficial analysis, lack of introspection or application, and personal potshots may generate attention, but they’re poor substitutes for thoughtful critique. The danger for all of us is that we’ll be satisfied with this kind of thoughtless cotton candy while we starve for a lack of substance.

For Craig Detweiler, another danger of criticism lurks. In short, “It puts all of us in the role of judge.” In that role of judge, it seems we’re prone to forget that art is subjective and that our opinions are just that: opinions. Detweiler also points out that critics “dismiss things too quickly, without acknowledging the tremendous amount of time and energy that went into every creative decision that appears in the final project.” In other words, the role of judge prompts some to check their empathy at the door of the courtroom. Like Overstreet, Detweiler takes exception to the harsh tone of some criticism. “That’s where critics can do harm,” says Detweiler, “with a quick, dismissive response. You may quibble with the results but don’t be so derogatory with your remarks.”

When I ask author Jason Boyett about the dangers of criticism, he expounds on what he describes as the potential for “unkindness” and the tension that may result for Christians. “Where do the Christian values of grace and mercy fit into art criticism?” he asks. “Is it OK to be a Christian and yet attack someone, Christopher Hitchens-style, because their heartfelt art doesn’t measure up to our subjective standards? I honestly don’t know. It’s a tricky path to walk for a believer who is, at the same time, interested in loving his or her neighbor but also interested in productive criticism. Finding that balance between improving a product and not being an insensitive, merciless snob is the trick, and it’s one I’m not sure I’ve quite learned.”

“We must become the change we want to see in the world.”—Gandhi

Creation
I think Boyett is right to evaluate his personal approach to criticism in the context of his faith, and both Overstreet and Detweiler seem to do the same. (In fact, you can gain more insight into how the two engage art and their faith through Overstreet’s book, Through A Screen Darkly, and Detweiler’s book, Into the Dark.) So perhaps self-examination is the first step for us as we endeavor to critique a creative work. We must be certain that our critical words and attitudes are consistent with the values we profess—truth, love, creativity, grace, compassion, and the rest. Then we can engage art and respond to it in such a way that is honest and helpful, but let’s not
stop there.

Each of the individuals that were kind enough to talk with me about this piece are creators in addition to being critics, and we can all benefit from that example. “I’m grateful for Andy Crouch’s emphasis (as outlined in the book Culture Making) on saying it’s not enough for Christians to be good critics of the culture, that we have to actually try to create something lovely, something honest or refreshing,” Detweiler says. Pairing that perspective with Overstreet’s caution against not learning from our own critiques, another value of criticism emerges. Criticism helps us understand what’s missing, which in turns gives us a blueprint for creation.

As we diagnose a lack of depth, honesty, perspective, character development, or meaningful faith narratives in the pop culture landscape, we give ourselves a laundry list of opportunities and requisites for our own creative projects. If our critical analysis is accurate and if our creative ideas are well executed, our own works should find receptive audiences and begin to catalyze the changes for which our critiques expressed a desire. Detweiler told me, “The best critics remind us of what our highest aspirations should be.” Once we have glimpsed those aspirations, it’s incumbent on us to begin pursuing them.