Movie Rant: Should Some Movies Be Exempt from Serious Film Criticism?

When I got together with a friend of mine a couple of weeks back we felt like watching an older film -- something light and fun, nothing heavy. Neither of us had seen Benny & Joon (1993), nor did we even know the premise. But, it had a young Johnny Depp so we figured it couldn't be that bad.

The premise: Benny (Aidan Quinn) has lived with his younger sister, Joon (Mary Stuart Masterson) ever since their parents died when they were young. Although Benny and Joon are old enough to live in their own separate apartments, Benny continues to live with his mentally ill sister both as a protective measure and out of necessity (or so he thinks). When Benny loses a strange bet to one of his friends, he is forced to bring an eccentric young man named Sam (Johnny Depp) into his household. Uncomfortable expressing himself through words, Sam instead makes his feelings known through brilliantly imitated routines from old Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton films. When Sam and Joon form a romantic bond, Benny starts to experience jealousy about his sister's growing independence from him.

While reading up on the film afterward I noticed that audiences and critics alike were pretty divided about their opinions. Some took it for what it was -- a sweet little distraction that was never meant to be taken as high quality cinema -- while others lambasted it as an empty and contrived film that reduced mental illness to a trivial character trait. Film critic Desson Thomson of The Washington Post commented on Rotten Tomatoes: "Riddled with insufferable contrived zaniness ...it deals as deeply with mental illness as The Sound of Music explored the genocidal advance of the Third Reich." Yikes, I say. It got me thinking about film criticism and how, every once and awhile, it's simply okay to thoroughly enjoy a film without damning it for not being high-calibre cinema. I completely disagree with Thomson's comment and it made me think about films that I may have reviewed in the past that I maybe shouldn't have taken so seriously and criticized so harshly.

Joon (Masterson) and Sam (Depp). 

For the record, I loved Benny & Joon. Really, really loved it. It's one of those fun, light, feel-good movies that leaves you feeling better about everything. Yes, the script is a little sugary at times and, sure, it does overdo it on the quirkiness factor. However, I think there are certain movies that should get a pass when it comes to hardcore film criticism. Movies like Benny & Joon don't profess to be Oscar-calibre masterpieces packed with worldly insight into great matters. It's entertainment; a distraction that just so happens to have really lovely performances from the whole cast (especially Depp, who was nominated for a Golden Globe for his role). As Roger Ebert said in his favourable review of the film: "The movie suggests that love and magic can overcome mental illness and, at least for the length of the film, I was prepared to accept that. Much of the credit goes to Depp, who takes a character who may have seemed unplayable on paper, and makes him into the kind of enchanter who might be able to heal Joon." Here's Ebert, arguably the most famous film critic working today, and he responded favourably to Benny & Joon, despite its numerous flaws.

The audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes is at 85%, which is incredibly positive. The critical rating is lower, at 73% -- but that's still not too bad. Overall, it would seem the majority of people enjoyed the film. That being said, I'm sure everyone will agree that it's not exactly anywhere near one of the greatest films over made -- but it did what it set out to do; entertain.

I know there are a lot of people out there who hate film critics and think they shouldn't exist. I know people personally who say that it's one of the most useless occupations because it ultimately has little influence as to whether or not a person winds up seeing a certain film. While this may be true to a certain extent, I'm of the opinion that all art forms should be fairly criticized so that they can be discussed and studied. How else will we learn to form opinions, share our ideas and talk about popular culture without art criticism, in all its forms?

So, I guess my question to you is: Should some movies be exempt from serious film criticism? Or, if not exempt completely, should they be rated differently than certain higher quality films?

Movie Review: A Single Man

Directed By: Tom Ford
Starring: Colin Firth, Matthew Goode, Julianne Moore and Nicholas Hoult

It's November 30th, 1962. Set in Los Angeles, the film tracks a day in the life of a British university professor struggling to return to a sense of normalcy after the sudden death of his lover eight months earlier. The audience follows George (Colin Firth) as he gives a lecture on Aldous Huxley to his students, interacts with his neighbours, bonds intellectually with a student named Kenny (Nicholas Hoult) and visits his longtime friend Charley (Julianne Moore), all the while thinking of Jim (Matthew Goode) and contemplating suicide.

Above all else, this film is a meditation on love and loss. Anyone who has lost someone close to them can emphasize with George's disconnection with his surroundings. What few can relate to is the manner in which George is forced to grieve for his lover: in private, lest someone discover he is a homosexual.

Because this is a Tom Ford film, one can expect plenty of beautiful men in beautiful suits, however, behind every perfectly manicured front lawn or well-cut suit or stylish living room furniture, lies hidden secrets and unhappiness. While aesthetically pleasing to behold, the characters are walking dead and masking their interior pain.

This is one of the few films that actually captures the "gay experience." Usually the focus is on a crisis of sexual identity and confusion (Brokeback Mountain) or being openly gay in a repressive society (Milk). A Single Man, on the other hand, is about love, lust and longing as a gay man. Despite being forced to keep his sexual orientation private, George notices beautiful men in public, desires physical and emotional comfort from men and yearns for an overall deeper connection with men. George knows who he is and what he wants, he just must carry on in private.

Invisibility as a theme comes up on occasion throughout the film. George lives in a glass house, completely vulnerable to prying eyes. He lived there with Jim, openly. However, his neighbours never said a word about their living arrangements, nor did anyone treat him any differently after Jim's death. If they were aware of George's homosexuality they never said it in public. Even in a glass house George and Jim were invisible. They didn't exist as a couple in the eyes of society. When George reluctantly goes skinny-dipping with Kenny late at night, Kenny points out that no will notice because they are invisible. Even when learning of Jim's death in a phone call from Jim's cousin, George is not invited to the funeral, despite the fact that he and Jim had been together for fifteen years. George was invisible to his lover's own family.

Colin Firth, known for being typecast as the droll yet charming Englishman in romantic comedies, gives his finest performance in A Single Man. He instills George with a sense of quiet grief, which lingers just below the surface, as though he could snap at any moment. His narration verbally illustrates the loss and isolation he feels by Jim's death, however, no words are actually needed. Firth manages to convey every minute of George's heartbreak in even the simplest of his daily tasks, whether he is observing his seemingly happy neighbours through a window while sitting on the toilet or discovering an intimate photo he once took of Jim. Firth's performance is not only one of the best of his career, but one of the best of 2009.

Julianne Moore, as George's British friend, Charley, is wonderful in a secondary role. Charley is aware that she is an aging, divorced woman with little contact with her children, yet she dresses and acts as though she were twenty years younger, living in happier times. She loves George and, despite the fact that she is aware that he's a "poof," she resents the fact that she couldn't have him all to herself. Charley and George are both aware of the fact that they will never be with their true loves again and their shared sadness is evident.The rest of the supporting players, specifically Matthew Goode and Nicholas Hoult, are well cast and give strong performances in smaller roles.

The film is visually stunning, once you get over the fact that Tom Ford has the tendency to make some scenes play more like a perfume ad than a film. The costumes and sets perfectly capture and contextualize the 1960s. The pace is leisurely, but always intriguing. It's a wonderful film which places its emphasis on human loss and suffering as seen through the eyes of one man.

Grade: A