Masterpieces should be critiqued

It’s common knowledge that many visionary movies were initially misunderstood — or worse,… It’s common knowledge that many visionary movies were initially misunderstood — or worse, ignored — by critics and the public. But even now, as we celebrate their achievements, do we really appreciate them for what they are?

The Guardian recently examined a few “difficult” films that were originally slandered but later ordained, often by the same critics, as masterpieces. “Metropolis,” “Apocalypse Now” and, fittingly enough, “Rashomon” are some of the movies mentioned in the article. Other famous acquired tastes, I might add, include “2001: A Space Odyssey,” which engendered a decidedly polarized response — some found it much too dull — and “Eraserhead,” which Variety deemed “a sickening bad-taste exercise.”

Although it’s not entirely true that, in the newspaper’s words, “A painful demise at the box office is almost a prerequisite for greatness” — see “The Godfather” — it’s undeniable that many culturally enshrined movies were initially maligned or ignored by critics and, consequently, audiences. Nevertheless the reassuring sentiment that many articles, including The Guardian’s, espouse that we’re now able to truly appreciate these films or that we’ve become, in a sense, enlightened, seems misguided. Indeed, many difficult works of art including the movies mentioned above now seem to suffer a decidedly different form of misrepresentation: blind reverence.

More often than not, in fact, critical opinions on difficult works do not become “enlightened”; rather, they swing to the opposite pole. Now movies that were once prematurely bashed are uncritically heralded as masterpieces, as if in reparation for our past myopia. Proclaiming “2001: A Space Odyssey” a “perfect” film, for instance, has become a common refrain among cinephiles, particularly on movie websites like Mubi. Ultimately however, it’s no more intelligent than complaining about its pace or lack of dialogue. In other words, to say a work of art is a masterpiece does not preclude the need for nuanced analysis and an acknowledgement that it bears imperfections.

To illustrate this, I’ll defer to a case study in literature. Although initially the subject of mixed reviews, a majority of literary critics now consider David Foster Wallace’s 1996 novel “Infinite Jest” a postmodern masterpiece and an incisive critique of America’s commercial malaise with a brilliantly obsessive style to complement this.

On Yahoo Answers, a site that allows users to post any question they wish and receive responses from other users, a particularly clever reader uploaded a question under the title: “First page of my book. What do you think?” The accompanying text was, amusingly enough, the first six paragraphs of “Infinite Jest.” The reaction was enough to devastate any aspiring writer: The most popular response read, “You know your story needs more work, so you don’t need anyone to tell you what you already know.” Others complained about the passage’s excessive “stiffness” and formality.

The Yahoo user’s intent for this exercise, of course, was to underscore our abysmal ability to detect value in art. Nevertheless, although many of the criticisms were indeed idiotic, I was left wondering whether others weren’t wholly invalid. For instance, one user mentioned that Wallace’s use of the phrase “surrounded by heads and bodies” felt imperfect — and indeed the expression seems more wordy than evocative. For many people, however, even this admonishment is taboo: Conventional wisdom holds that the writer is, in the words of The New York Times, “the best mind of his generation,” and that any complaints about his style are unfounded. “Infinite Jest,” like the aforementioned films, has become impervious to criticism.

This is not to say we can’t champion our favorite movies or books — merely that when critiquing them, we can’t subscribe to the notion that they’re sacred, unknowable objects. Ultimately, in fact, this might boil down to a simple truism: The fact that a film has been proclaimed an avant-garde masterpiece shouldn’t paralyze our critical instinct. After all, the biggest travesty that could befall a great film isn’t lack of interest — it’s lack of thorough understanding.