Movie : Bachelorette, or: Gluttony and the downfall of mainstream film criticism
Link : Bachelorette, or: Gluttony and the downfall of mainstream film criticism
Bachelorette, or: Gluttony and the downfall of mainstream film criticism
Bachelorette (2012)
Directed by Leslye Headland
***SPOILERS***
Back when I was just a sprouting Cinema Bean, I sorta fell in love with Jerry Maguire. Nostalgia and movies are two elements that don’t mix for me very often, but other than a couple childhood Disney movies (The Great Mouse Detective, Aladdin), the only movies I consider “nostalgic” are the ones that I fell for during my early college years: Magnolia, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, High Fidelity, and, yes, Jerry Maguire. Maybe it was just the budding romantic in me, but something just clicked upon viewing Cameron Crowe’s hug-yourself-because-you’re-beautiful extravaganza. Because of this, I became a fan of James Berardinelli (the critic for Reelviews.net), who said of the film, “Every time I think Hollywood has slipped beyond redemption, someone in the system produces a film like Jerry Maguire that renews my faith.”
*Love at first sight*
Started following Berardinelli, looking at his past reviews, watching his favorite films—hell, I even bought one of the dude’s books. But more notably—and I think this is a trait most film lovers can admit to—I started looking for validation from him. I’d watch a movie and like it, see Berardinelli had condemned it, and then I’d start to wonder if I had misjudged the film. Often times I loved films more because of him and learned to dislike others. I was impressionable, to say the least, because I simply didn’t know how to judge movies for myself yet.
*Love at first sight*
Started following Berardinelli, looking at his past reviews, watching his favorite films—hell, I even bought one of the dude’s books. But more notably—and I think this is a trait most film lovers can admit to—I started looking for validation from him. I’d watch a movie and like it, see Berardinelli had condemned it, and then I’d start to wonder if I had misjudged the film. Often times I loved films more because of him and learned to dislike others. I was impressionable, to say the least, because I simply didn’t know how to judge movies for myself yet.
As the years passed, I moved new places, abandoned my friends, watched too many movies for the good of my health, and lost touch with Berardinelli. I was visiting his site less and less because his reviews simply began to lose their magic. I guess at some point I made the realization: I wasn’t learning anything from Berardinelli’s reviews. And as a cinema lover who had never taken a real film class in college and had started to dabble in writing a couple reviews here and there, I was looking for more than a simple opinion. For what it’s worth, part of the attraction to Berardinelli lied in the fact that he was the first prominent online critic, and he represented the DIY approach I strove to mimic. But I also wanted to do more than tell people what movies I liked, and what movies I hated, and what movies ehhhh fell in between. You can go to thousands upon thousands of sites and find bloggers simply regurgitating the same shit from mainstream critics. Never digging deep into a film; never asking new questions; never actually challenging the reader. I guess the allure of being one of those precious 40 “Top Critics” on Metacritic dominates the mentality of most who break into the criticism business—I know it did for me.
I think that allure is being fueled by reviewers like Berardinelli. After straying from his site for more than a year, I revisited J.B. to see his latest star ratings. No surprises, really: LOVES The Dark Knight Rises (I found it wildly mediocre), thought Beasts of the Southern Wild was pretty “meh” (it'll make my top 20 for 2012), hated the latest shitty action movies (oh Total Recall remake, why do you exist?), and…what’s this? Zero stars for Bachelorette.
Pause. Confusion. Looks around the room.
What?
I didn’t think Bachelorette represented the next wave of raunchy comedy, but it was a welcome diversion from the norm. So I read the review…and it was like old times again! Safe Writing 101: breezy criticisms, half-assed plot summary, ostensibly defining the term “comedy”, and oh hey, a little more half-assed plot summary. Does he think we didn't watch the movie? Hell, there's more discussion of his rating system than of the Bachelorette itself. Yes, scratch the surface of why you HATED the film so much, and then make a statement like: “Comedies are the most subjective of all movie types, but trust me when I say that, regardless of what you find funny, it won't be found in Bachelorette.” Now that’s funny. He even goes out of his way to brag that he gives out less “zero stars” than “four stars” to films—a statement you’d think would lead to a particularly rare instance where he’d adequately defend such a dubious honor. But no, never in the business of actually reviewing and more in the business of pretending his opinion is more important than anyone else’s, Berardinelli—in this case more than any I can think of—represents the butt end of those “Top Critics” on Metacritic (there are still a few good ones). Jesus, at least Rex Reed provides examples and evidence (and the tiniest sliver of personality) when he publishes his fake reviews (I’ll never be convinced he sat through the entirety of 50/50).
The egos of writers—trust me, I know—are probably bigger than most, and it’s never more apparent than with these “critics”. And perhaps I’d be willing to just pretend they didn’t exist if they weren’t so goddamned influential to the growing wave of new writers (and for that matter, new film lovers) exploring the blogosphere. And sure enough, I visit Berardinelli’s comment section, and there are hoards of people exclaiming, “Thank you for letting me know this sucks! Now I can avoid it.” They’ve become mindless followers—exactly what I used to be. Mirroring the comment Berardinelli made in his review for Jerry Maguire, he begins his review by writing, “Sometimes a movie is so bad it makes me want to go into seclusion and never see another film. Bachelorette is one of those.” With Jerry Maguire (despite its good intentions) being more of the same and Bachelorette transcending its own conventions (just go ahead and stop reading any reviewer who uses "conventions" as a legitimate knock against a film), one thing is clear: the Berardinelli’s of the world want to be fed the same crap, regurgitate the same crap, and never really give themselves the chance to stretch beyond their own bland observations and truly dissect a film—I mean, how can you when you’re reviewing 200-plus films a year?
The opening scene of Bachelorette features Regan (Kirsten Dunst) and Becky (Rebel Wilson) eating in a diner, ordering their food. After Regan orders a salad without the chicken, bacon, cheese, and avocado, Becky responds with, “I’ll get the burger and fries with her cheese, her bacon. Don’t bring the dessert menu. I already know I want the cheesecake.” Berardinelli—hungry himself for a good ole raunchfest filled with laughs galore—is immediately troubled. “Hey, this isn’t funny!” he exclaims to himself, much to the theater-goers' in attendance displeasure. It didn’t help that he had already made up his mind that Bachelorette would be much worse than Bridesmaids, calling out director Leslye Headland’s banking on the latter’s success…despite the fact that Bachelorette was a play in production and a movie ready to shoot by the time Bridesmaids came out. Berardinelli’s insatiable hunger for those hard-hitting jokes (which is how he judges films) is reflected when he writes, “I wasn't the biggest proponent of Bridesmaids when it was released, but I recognized instances of humor that some viewers might find funny and I laughed a time or two myself. A level of craftsmanship was evident.”
Ohhhhh, I see! I was being too hard on Berdinelli. He’s looking for craftsmanship. Unfortunately, Berardinelli’s definition for comedy begins and ends with the laugh count, reducing the meaning of the word “craftsmanship” to its most simplistic and banal form. Bachelorette’s opening scene is just the beginning of many rounded instances of gluttony, which is fueled by the self-imposed pressures of Americanized weddings. Working within the strictest definition of the word, we are meant to see Becky as the "gluttonous" one as she orders her gigantic meal, but really its Regan’s envy and selfishness that puts gluttony’s true horrors on display. Regan, jealous of her best friend for getting married first; Gena (Lizzy Caplan), desperate to win back her high school boyfriend; Katie (Isla Fisher), pumping drugs into her system and searching for a man to take her seriously—in all these instances, the pressures of American weddings bear down on these women and force them to act out, force them to belittle each other for their own benefit, and force them to take take take. The level of gluttony even exists outside the hoards of drugs and booze throughout the film, as those drugs speak of these women’s larger problem—the drugs are merely an escape pod, seemingly bringing these women towards another life they strive to achieve (in the face of a wedding), but are just too goddamned bitchy and selfish to obtain.
Berardinelli—still hungry for some unique comedy—is again unsatisfied with Bachelorette’s central “gag”, when Regan and Katie climb into Becky’s dress and accidentally rip it in half. While this scene may have fallen into Berardinelli’s “predictable” argument—which in its simplest form, it may be—he fails to recognize how the act of climbing into Becky’s dress and the ripping of it manages to combine the gluttonous theme of Bachelorette and the pathetic state of these women’s jealousy. Literally filling the spot Becky occupies with two skinny women, the American idea of gluttony is symbolized in full force, as these “ideal” women take the place of the fatter one, whom Regan has discounted purely based on looks. It’s too much of a stretch to label the bitch-from-Hell Regan as a surrogate for the audience, but surely the presence of Becky’s former nickname “Pigface” resonates a larger attitude towards the mere idea of gluttony the audience holds and the past’s unrelenting grip on these women. It’s once again brought forth in a scene where Regan attempts to make herself throw up, claiming it’s because of the stress and she "hasn’t done it since high school." Even in this instance, Regan disgorging herself represents even more consuming, as the attention shifts to her on Becky’s wedding day and it’s an outlet to her high school years, during which her future seemed much brighter than Becky’s.
Once again Berardinelli thinking he owns an untouchable point, he throws out this absurdity:
“The three leads are bitches. There's no nicer way to put it. They are self-absorbed, foul-mouthed, vicious, hateful creatures whose level of inhumanity would put the average movie villain to shame. Alan Rickman's Hans Gruber would bow down in awe. Hannibal Lecter would applaud with approval. And Darth Vader would acknowledge their strength with the Dark Side. Being forced to spend 90+ minutes in the company of such a trio is more than a reasonable person should be asked to endure.”
A perplexing "point" to say the least, as he purports that unlikable characters are grounds to hand out zero-star reviews—despite the fact he gave Closer (full of much worse human beings) a glowing 3-and-a-half-star review. Adding to this, he fails to recognize how these “bitches'” bitchiness plays directly into the arcing theme and narrative at hand. Redemption surely isn’t Headland’s motive, as she says in an interview (about her intentions in regards to the audience): “I didn’t want them to talk about it; I didn’t want them to apologize. I wanted the audience to have to sit through what owning up to your mistakes is like, because that’s what the characters have to sit through.” Only when we see these women branching off into their respective parties do we see their selfishness begin to slightly dissipate, along with their gluttonous ways. Bitches to the end, no doubt—as Berardinelli painfully makes clear over and over again—but bitches sprinkled with a raw sense of humanity. The comedy is stripped down to its bare core, utilizing clever bits of imagery that fueled comedy earlier—Katie’s addiction to drugs—and turning them into burgeoning forces of reality: as Katie turns to drug and almost OD’s when a man turns her down (once again resorting to gluttony), hilariously putting Regan’s throat-massaging technique to good use.
Beradinelli accuses Bachelorette of being predictable, unable to stretch beyond the conventions that innately bound it to The Hangover and Bridesmaids formula. But the "conventions" argument is never really a legitimate point, as it reduces the narrative and its themes to the simplest level—along with being a point any ten-year-old could make. It's a film's ability to transcend such conventions—which Bachelorette does with its ever-present imagery and symbolism—that truly separates the finer points of film. Perhaps the depraved identity of weddings in Bachelorette bothers Berardinelli on some sort of personal or moral level (since it’s impossible to pinpoint his reasoning for hating the film through his repetitive, analysis-free, one-note “critique”), but I guess that’s just too bad, as Headland clearly doesn’t see what all the fuss is about:
“If you’re not married and you’re a straight guy, the world is your fuckin’ oyster, but if you’re single and you’re a woman and you’ve got something going for you, it’s just so sad you’re not married yet. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”
With constant pressure falling down on women to be married and obtain the ideal lifestyle, what better way to explore gluttony than Americanized weddings? What better way to symbolically portray this glamorized event than by ripping apart the wedding dress? I do believe that Headland—who is quick to criticize her own original play—will continue to hunt for these answers and improve her films/plays through such insightful commentary and imagery. As for Berardinelli, I guess it was just another day, another review. It’s really hard to argue with somebody who, this far into the game, really has no grasp on the subtleties of a "predictable" film like Bachelorette. And since I’ve got nothing left to say, I’ll just let Headland conclude this discussion:
“As a huge film nerd, all I ever hear is how they don’t make good movies anymore. That is the conversation I have after having sex with everybody. It’s like, I’m wiping cum off my stomach and I have to hear about how nobody makes good movies anymore. Jesus Christ, dude, maybe it’s happening right now, and if you weren’t so worried about cornering the market on it, you could let people sort of flourish in their creative spaces. I don’t know. If they don’t, who cares?”
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