Movie Critics Need Hands-On Experience

As one who has written for two Presidents (Reagan and Bush--which automatically makes me politically incorrect in Hollywood), published one book, has a novel on the way, worked as a reporter and columnist and even spent a few years trying to play hockey for a living (a complete lack of talent and a bad knee kept me out of the big time), one would think I might have more sense than to try to break into the brutal world of motion picture screenwriting-- wrong ! Must have been one of the 300 or 400 pucks I took off the old coconut.

But just when I’m ready to pack my bags and head off to the land of understanding studio executives, huge monetary advances, no rewrites and a bevy of beautiful starlets at my beck and call (never too early to start working on some of that snappy “straight to video” fiction), along comes a collection of movie “critics” from here and there who manage to stop me dead in my tracks faster than they can say “objectivity.”

Over the years, I have discovered that many of these people are just downright cruel, and I can’t help wondering what makes them that way. Envy, jealousy or just a lack of understanding of the craft they cover?

Having voiced that, the question then becomes, “why on Earth would I want to one day subject my work to their poisonous slings and arrows?” In a word--stupidity.

An example of some critics being the kings and queens of the bottom feeders was the shameful treatment of Robert Redford in his latest starring role, “Sneakers.” Since the film came out, I have lost count of the number of critics who singled out Redford for “how much he’s aged.”

Commendably, the Los Angeles Times review ignored Redford’s age and the film critic confined his comments about Redford to his performance (“ ‘Sneakers’: A Caper With Lots of Twists,” Calendar, Sept. 9). But, to those who did not, I say, “So what! What does Redford’s age possibly have to do with his performance or the quality of the movie?”

While I am not a fan of most of Redford’s politics and thought he took a gratuitous cheap shot at President Bush in the movie (I also admit I found the rest of the jokes aimed at the Republican Party very funny), I think he is a tremendous talent and have enjoyed most of his films, including “Sneakers,” which I recommended to a number of friends inside the White House and out.

After having watched some of these critics savage Redford, I have little trouble understanding why there is such a paranoia in Hollywood about aging. Just as I have no doubts that if he chose to have some type of plastic surgery, they would blast him for that as well.

Who are these people? What makes them qualified to critique movies? Is there some course they took in college that prepared them for their career as parasitic hangers-on who lack the ability to create what they themselves criticize? I’m only being half sarcastic here and would really like an answer.

The very business of reviewing movies is so subjective as to make it a crapshoot at best. How many times have “Siskel and Ebert” or other critics disagreed on the same movie? What makes one right and the other wrong? More important, why should we care?

I truly don’t understand the concept of movie critics. In sports, when you have a game on television, the man or woman doing the “color” (and many times the announcer) is a former player with a deep understanding of the sport. In my local paper as well as in the Los Angeles Times, when a book is reviewed, it is generally done so by a fellow author. So what’s the deal with movies?

Why not have the electronic and print media turn to guest “critics”? I would be much more inclined to take the word of Sydney Pollack on directing, Gayle Anne Hurd on producing or Denzel Washington on acting than the opinion of someone who thinks a few extra wrinkles or pounds destroys the impact of a movie.

Now that I’ve completely ensured that any screenplay I sell gets vaporized by the “critical elite” (hey, I still have to toe the party line here), my question to them is, “Why can’t you allow Hollywood actors and actresses to be human?” Judge them solely on their work and leave the personal stuff in the gutter where it belongs.

It has been said that the shortest measurement of time is the time it takes for a traffic light in New York City to go from red to green before someone blows the horn at you from behind. My guess is that several critics will break that by light-years going after me as soon as this gets published.