Is Jim Ridley Fallible?

I've had more than one friend scoff at me upon my confession that I love to read movie reviews-- and other types of critical writing as well, I guess: both more and less esoteric. Mind you, I don't hear that all reviewing is wasteful and subjective and prevents you from determining your own opinion from the friends who also write the stuff, but no matter. And, mind you, my mom was a restaurant critic for, like, 15 years and, because I watched as she forced herself to eat a lot of junk she hates and then, judge it on its own merits as opposed to her personal taste, I know there's a lot more to reviewing than asserting, "My opinion is better than yours just because I have a forum." I mean, she ate 'possum, for pete's sake!

But I find it interesting and, frequently, a helpful point of entry to see how other brains process films and some of the people who do this for a living carry around such a monstrous frame of reference, such a huge film library in their heads that they can offer comparisons and point to such great conversations between different movies that I question how they could possibly be perceived as hacks simply for their choice of reviewing passions? My favorite among reviewers is Nashville's own Jim Ridley who writes for the Nashville Scene . This man is a scholar. He sees everything that comes out and rarely allows his own biases about style or subject matter color his opinions-- he comes to the movies on their own terms and is able to discuss them with a very engaging writing style.

That said, he hated Little Miss Sunshine. And I could be mistaken, but I think he gave four stars to Rob Zombie's The Devil's Rejects. So, um, he's not perfect. But I'm not sure he's 100% wrong either.

I mean, he really hated Little Miss Sunshine. He points to the characters' sit-com-like, anticipatable qualities and the film's stock attempts to describe their loser-ness. He mentions that the only way this cavalcade of n'er-do-wells can come off as heroes by the end of the movie is by presenting everyone else as people who deserve condescension. And then, of course, there's the problem of the force-fed, look-at-me-I'm-ironic-bet-you-hadn't-caught-onto-that tone. And the all-to-convenient plot devices. And the... and the...

And the problem is that Ridley's kinda right about all these things being major flaws. But, dammit, I can't hate this movie. It was fun to sit through. Steve Carell contains himself and, despite his history of playing ass-munches, he offers some of the most subtle comedy in the movie-- the way he just follows the conversations with his eyes? It's so underplayed, so careful, and not without heart. And despite the fact the movie posits that EVERY character needs a moment of crisis, it orchestrates moments like the teenage brother's devastating discovery of color-blindness in such an offhand manner that it feels authentic. Oh, and Greg Kinnear, Steve Carell and Paul Dano all lined up like the little girl's back-up dancers? The faulty car horn that becomes impromptu conversation punctuation? So smart.

However, yet another indictment on the children's beauty pageant circuit, yet another foul-mouthed grandpa, yet another smear directed at pretentious academics, yet another down-and-out motivational speaker... I dunno-- aren't these things already such tried and true targets? Wouldn't it be great if we could find some new aspects of American culture that might similarly inspire what-is-wrong-with-this-country questions? Isn't there anything new under the sun that we can skewer?

Oh, also of interest, the repeated musical motif in the movie is primarily the opening strains of the Devotchka song, "How it Ends." This song might be recognizable from the trailer for Everything is Illuminated. Basically, I just like this funny little Russian-ish-sounding band and wanted to plug them. And I think that song is gorgeous. And I was so sad when they played here at The Basement and I missed it. *sigh*

Anyway, I wish I was the preeminent Proust scholar in the U.S.!