I started officially* writing about movies in 2002 at Film Threat, once a gen-u-ine print magazine that I read faithfully throughout the ‘90s (when I could find it). It opened my eyes to a lot of filmmakers I hadn’t been previously familiar with (John Woo, Todd Haynes) and a few I wish I was still ignorant of (Jörg Buttgereit, who knows what he did). Hustler’s Larry Flynt bought the mag at one point, and that was such a rousing success that FT ended up going wholly online in 1996.
Founder Chris Gore wrote an article at some point in, I dunno, 2001 or so about what *not* to do if you wanted to write for them. I’d link it, but like a lot of stuff pre-2017 website relaunch, it ain’t there. Anyway, I was bored at work one day and emailed Gore to say *I’d* like to write for the site. After some back and forth — and an “audition” where I used a review I’d written of Almost Famous that another site had ripped off** — I was in.
I started writing a column about movies that (at the time) were out of print (a much easier task back in the pre-Shout! Factory/Vinegar Syndrome days). Stuff like Of Unknown Origin (Peter Weller vs giant rat) and The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years necessitated many a trip to Audio Video Plus (RIP). I also reviewed movies from the infamous “Box.” Let me ‘splain: for a time, any filmmaker could send a copy of their work to Film Threat’s PO address***. Every month or so the writers would receive a box haphazardly packed with VHS tapes and the rare DVD. It might take a few years (I reviewed 1999’s The Dogwalker in 2002, for example), but we’d eventually get to it.
I moved “up” to mainstream releases in 2004 (a midnight screening of Hellboy), and I’ve been at it ever since, not counting a parenthood-induced hiatus where I left FT in 2010 and landed at the Houston Press (“Reviews for the Easily Distracted” debuted with I Spit On Your Grave, quite the auspicious beginning). Since then, I’ve been fortunate enough to get stuff published in the Dallas Observer, Miami New Times, and the Village Voice. Hell, I’ve even been on the radio a few dozen times (mostly for concert recaps, which is a matter for another post).
And somehow, I’m still doing it.
The purge of high profile entertainment critics from legacy publications has been proceeding with grim regularity for a while now, but this last week saw some pretty notable shakeups, including Rolling Stone’s firing of Alan Sepinwall, Vanity Fair canning Richard Lawson, and the “reassignment” of New York Times television critic Margaret Lyons and music critic Jon Pareles (among others).
This memo from Times culture editor Sia Michel puts it thusly:
“Our readers are hungry for trusted guides to help them make sense of this complicated landscape, not only through traditional reviews but also with essays, new story forms, videos and experimentation with other platforms,” she wrote in the memo. “Our mission is to be those guides,” she continued. “As we do so, I am making some changes in assignments in the department.”
Michel goes on to say the Times will be “conducting a search for critics on their beats in the weeks to come.” Meaning freelance TikTok-ers and Instagram personalities who won’t bore the Old Gray Lady’s “hungry readers” with boring prose and — more importantly — won’t command prohibitive salaries and benefits for their work.
Which is funny, and not in the “ha ha” sense, because there have never been more movie critics than there are right now. Review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes has over 3,500 “Tomatometer Approved” reviewers on its site. 3,500! Back in my day(TM), you had to write at least 50 reviews a year, needed a site editor's approval, and your application was voted on by a committee of other critics. Those criteria were dropped — not coincidentally — after its 2016 acquisition by movie ticketing/streaming service Fandango, and the number of approved RT critics ballooned. As did RT scores (up by an average of 13 points in the last decade).
Vulture had an article back in 2023 detailing how some PR companies game the “Rotten/Fresh” dichotomy by promoting favorable reviews and in some cases even paying for them. RT’s math doesn’t help, as a barely favorable review from a WordPress blog with 10 readers counts as much in the “fresh/rotten” calculation as a 5/5 rave from the New Yorker. Studios love to leverage this, plastering “Certified Fresh” on every movie possible, even while filmmakers decry the current setup.
Bu-bu-bu-but wait it gets worse. Studios have begun front loading preview screenings with “influencers” in the (justified) hopes that they’ll be more favorably inclined toward a movie if they get to talk about it before anyone else. We lowly press were always encouraged (if we liked the movie, of course) to talk it up on social media, but there’s been a distinct tilt recently towards “press/influencer” advance screenings (Superman being one that comes to mind).
Opinions vary about how much Rotten Tomatoes, or critics in general, affect box office totals. Any illusions I harbored about my own impact faded well before shit like Date Movie and Norbit succeeded in spite of my withering reviews. Marketing firms still hedge their bets, only now you’ll see onscreen blurbs once reserved for the likes of Mick LaSalle or Manohla Dargis going to randos on Xitter or from sites like “FandomWire,” which is exactly as objective as its name would indicate.
Never having been much of a quote guy (I can count on one hand the number of times publicists have requested one), I’m more resigned than anything. Even before comments were mercifully removed from Houston Press articles, I didn’t engage with angry readers. After all, reviews are just, like, my opinion, man. Mine are no less valid than (most) anybody else’s, I just happen to have a platform that allows me to inflict them on others.
As of this writing, I have 1,039 reviews up on RT (a moment of silence while Comic Book Guy echoes in my head). There have been lows — the director who sent me a bullet after an unfavorable Sundance write-up — and relative highs — Roger Ebert emailing me to say he considered me a “real critic” and Emma Thompson calling me “nice,” even if 1) she wouldn’t remember my name if her life depended on it, and 2) they didn’t use the full quote. For some reason (omitted portion in italics):
I'd enjoy listening to [Emma Thompson] even if she was reading me my list of offenses against the Crown while the Royal Buggerer oiled up his Punishment Phallus.
1,039 reviews, and counting. Unlike almost everything else, I have no existential concerns about the gig. I’m freelance, which amounts to one data point in that particular budget line item, and I don’t go to festivals or on location visits, so there’s nothing to expense. It’d be one thing if I depended on writing for my livelihood, but that pipe dream sailed long ago. It’s beer money at this point, and for now that and the fact I never had to work with Harry Knowles is enough.
*I started keeping an informal movie journal circa 1981, mostly to express how bitterly disappointed I was with Clash of the Titans.
**Countingdown.com no longer exists. Bummer.
***Their submissions are online now, with various “tiers” (straight reviews are still free) allowing you to pay extra for things like expedited publication and social media promotion.
Excellent recap of your career as a great film critic, Pete! I am glad that you ‘splained and decided not to sum up.
That’s incredible that Ebert praised you, and very well deserved. Looking forward to the next 1,059 reviews 👍🏼