The Future of Theater Criticism and Me Playing Devil's Advocate

This image has no relation to theater. I just wanted to use it.

So this past week was an eventful one. "American Theatre" finally launch our podcast series (the idea sparked by yours truly and edited by me as well). Howlround ran a very well-written series of essays about theater criticism, curated by my colleage Rob Weinert-Kendt. Roger Ebert died (though not before filing his very last review, proving that right up to the end, your movie sucked). And "Back Stage," the august trade publication for actors, got rid of its film and theater reviews.

And the Internet (or at least my tiny corner) fell apart. Or rather, regarding "Back Stage," there were comments like this, this and this. And many others. In short, people were not happy.

But to this I ask, was anyone really surprised? After all, "Time Out Chicago" announced that they were going online-only and eliminating 60% of their staff. "Variety" is no longer printing out a daily edition and fired its longtime film and theater critic in 2010. And downsizing and depression rages in publications across the nation. Arts journalism is floundering and it's scary. I've been scared ever since I decided, during a recession, that I was going to be a journalist and that print was dying and I should count myself lucky if I ever got a job. 

Were we surprised that "Back Stage" decided to follow what is already an industry-wide trend in downsizing? And if the reasons truly were, as executive editor Daniel Holloway explained, "the metrics," aka the lack of hits, can we blame them?

These days, not even theater artists can seem to agree on why reviews and criticism are important, if they're important at all. In this age of lacking arts coverage, you'd think people would argue less about "Why can't artists be critics?" "Why can't critics hang out with us first?" "Why can't we get better critics?" and more about, "How do we save criticism which is how we get publicity?"

The quandary as I see it (at the moment because I'm young and prone to changing my mind) is the question for any theater artist: how do you get the audience to engage with your work? For theater artists, it's how do you get the audience to engage so that they will buy a ticket and then tell their friends. For journalists it's: how do you get people to read the article?

A Vindication on the Rights of Women, to be Badasses

Last week, I caught a Friday night showing of "Brave," the newest Pixar film, which takes the typical mother-daughter tale of alienation and misunderstanding, and ricochets the drama up, by having Princess Merida accidentally turn her mother, Queen Elinor into a bear.

(Just a quick aside, I am obsessed with Merida's head of fiery and wild red hair. So much so that I want to chop it off and put it on my own head, even if it's going to matte down and be completely disgusting in the freakishly-hot NYC summer.)


Before "Brave" was released, Adam Markovitz of Entertainment Weekly surmised that, because of her lack of romantic/traditionally feminine inclinations (aka, she likes to ride horses and shooting arrows), Merida could possibly be a lesbian. Ignoring the arcane notion in the article which posits that just because a woman chooses not to be "like a man", she could be a lesbian, Markovitz does make one point that I find interesting:

[Merida] brings a new free-thinking attitude to the slightly staid club of Disney princesses, one that’s sure to appeal not just to gays, but to anyone who ever challenged an identity that was pre-assigned to them. Her strength in the face of opposition and her urge to forge her own identity...both have the potential to ring true for moviegoers of all stripes, rainbow or otherwise.

After watching "Brave," I was walking home and it occurred to me that Merida probably does get married eventually. After all, the film operates in a world where a woman's source of power was her ability to bear children (hence why Elinor didn't settle for one ginger child but instead, had three ginger boys too). But what Merida was trying to get Elinor to understand, becoming the source of conflict in the "Brave," was that she wanted the ability to choose when and who she married. I like to think that eventually, Merida found someone she loved, who was her equal, and who let her take long horse rides in the woods. But the operative notion is that she was allowed to choose.

The Racist Games

This cute print can be found here. Credit: Slovly.

Now that wearing a hoodie is synonymous with being a gangster and a thug, and is a good excuse for shooting someone (it's the new miniskirt!), it seems that racism is back. Then again, did it ever really go away? I'd like to argue that from November 2008 to January 2009, Americans pretended that racism was a thing of the past, like three-pieced suits and drinking at work. And then someone had to go and shoot Trayvon Martin. Or perhaps it was before that when Pvt. Danny Chen was bullied by his fellow soldiers. Or perhaps it was the summer when people realized that The Help, while popular, was a really racist movie.

But here it is some more, with teenagers complaining that one of the main characters in The Hunger Games film is black. Not the violence, the trivialization of the death of children, the way the story is derivative of every other dystopian, science-fiction story about kids killing each other (Ender's Game, Battle Royale, Lord of the Flies). Instead, it's something as asinine as skin color. Then again, I don't expect teenagers to have the best reasoning skills. Adults don't have it either these days.

It did lead to this very interested Jezebel article about the proliferation of white-washing characters when race is not specified. It's something I addressed in my TCG Circle blog post. But Jezebel addresses more directly (and in more colorful language) than I do. A choice snippet here:

You can see whitewashing in a grillion places—from old chestnuts like black characters always dying first (get out of the way! White people have stuff to do!), to more recent developments like 2011's HawthoRNe being only the third primetime drama ever to feature a black female lead. Third one ever. In 2011. There's the fact that if you have more than two black characters in a television show it becomes a "black show." There was Avatar: The Last Airbender (which I reviewed here), in which M. Night Shyamalan cast white actors in explicitly Asian roles—but only the heroes. The villains were dark-skinned south Asians. Remember the sassy black friend in 2011 rom-com Friends with Benefits? Probably not, because she only exists for like two seconds at the very beginning of the movie to establish that our heroine has an ethnic friend, and then disappears forever. Because that's enough! Tip o' the hat to you, black people! You're welcome! Now quiet down—the white people are talking.

It reminds me of when George Lucas was on "The Daily Show" and he said he had trouble finding financers for Red Tails because: "It's because it's an all-black movie. There's no major white roles in it at all...I showed it to all of them and they said no. We don't know how to market a movie like this."

To quote someone very wise: "That's some racist bullshit!" And really depressing.