Friday, November 27, 2015

Music Review: 25

Album Review




Adele - 25

Release date: November 20, 2015
Label: XL Recordings

Summary: The powerful songstress from Tottenham is back in full force, and though her homage to moving on in late adulthood isn’t nearly as groundbreaking as it could have been, Adele’s undeniable vocal strength shines in every somber, soulful track.

Four years ago, Adele’s cathartic and solid album 21 erupted onto a totally unprepared music scene like a belting volcano, drowning her contemporaries in the sheer majesty of her voice and the strength of her plaintive lyricism.  Riding the Contemporary R&B wave, this blue-eyed soul singer swept the 2012 GRAMMY Awards, netting a record-tying 6 awards, including Artist of the Year.  However, instead of following-up immediately on her phenomenal success, Adele took a three-year hiatus from the music biz, breaking only to compose the Academy Award-winning “Skyfall” for the eponymous 2012 James Bond film.  The drought finally ended with the release of the breathtaking “Hello” in late October.  The reaction was overwhelming, with the song practically lionized by the music industry as the official music video racked up over 400,000,000 views on YouTube in less than a month.  So with all this outpouring of praise and anticipation, does the final product live up to the hype surrounding it?  Well, yes and no: yes, in that the vocals and sincerity are as superb as one would expect from Adele, but it often sounds indistinguishable from previous efforts, the promise of cap-stoning her musical Bildungsroman never quite materializing in most of the tracks.

The lead single “Hello,” of course, needs not introduction, setting the tone of the album and ultimately standing out as its most powerful song.  This classic ballad drips with regret over a failed relationship, appearing to all the world as the mature follow up to her signature “Somebody Like You.”  But beyond its poignant message is Adele’s commanding vocal range, stretching across multiple cords, all in tune with the piano’s melodic rise and fall.  “Hello” is that rare song with the power to carry an entire album on its own, and if everything else in 25 had been sub-par, it would be worth getting the album just to hear this searching ode in its full, uninterrupted glory.

Still, while the musicianship on the album is a testament to Adele’s continuing maturity as an artist, its content still sounds like more of the same.  Tracks like “Send My Love,” with its upbeat, almost popish rhythms, and the somber, reflective “When We Were Young” hit all of the right notes - and heartstrings - but will undoubtedly feel very familiar to anyone with even a passing familiarity of her corpus.  This isn't a bad thing, mind you, as Adele’s stratospheric vocals are nearly immune to anything mediocre.  But with the glimmer of lyrical maturity hinted in “Hello,” I’d hoped that the British songwriter would show a bit more inventiveness, especially with an array of talent as diverse as Bruno Mars, Paul Epworth, and Danger Mouse all contributing to the production.  “A Million Years Ago” is probably the most original track on the record - a calm, Spanish guitar lamentation, punctuated by Adele’s piercing voice at certain emotional peaks, that reminisces on the price of fame and its effect on those who knew her.  Otherwise, 25 is a retread over the same territory forged by 21, and while a few songs like "River Lea" and "Water Under the Bridge" stand out, respectively, for their striking imagery and retro 80s tempo, there's nothing fundamentally adventurous here, and only the most attentive fans will spot the subtle differences between the two albums.

That shouldn’t stop anyone from giving 25 their full attention, though.  Adele is without doubt a once-in-a-generation talent, and while those looking for the much-vaulted maturity this album promised may leave disappointed, fans of this modern siren’s soulful wails of lost love will definitely find reasons to celebrate.

Grade: A-

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Movie Review: Spectre


 

Movie: Spectre
Directed by: Sam Mendes
Starring: Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Léa Seydoux

Verdict:
Unapologetically cliche and gloriously “old school,” the 24th official entry into the Bond film canon doesn’t promise anything groundbreaking, but while it strays into cinema no-nos at times, it still packs enough humor, action, and old-fashioned charm to bring Craig’s run as 007 to a fun, if unimaginative, conclusion.

In depth:
I confess that I've never been much of a James Bond fan.  Far be it from me to deny anyone else their own vicarious pleasure, but I didn’t fall in line with the peculiar brand of wish fulfillment Ian Fleming’s magnum opus had been selling over the decades.  Although Skyfall, with its masterful score and surprising intellectual force, certainly coaxed a bit of interest out of me, I never saw Spectre as one of my “must sees” for this November.  I stormed the movie theater blind, having no expectation,s really, other than the sense that I’m in for an action-packed, meat-headed power fantasy.  And I was right - but as it turns out, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.  Though weighed down by a plethora of minor weaknesses and a startling lack of originality, Spectre by and large delivered a fun, frenetic experience, with the expected charm and strength Daniel Craig commands as 007 on full alert, giving us more than our money’s worth.

We first spy our hero in usual Bond style - trailing an apparent evildoer through a spectacularly rendered Dia de Muertos celebration in Mexico, but not before giving a random woman (and honestly, aren’t they all random?) his obligatory token of affection before heading back out on the case.  What follows is a chase through the crowded Mexico City streets, culminating in our hero clashing with his quarry on a spinning helicopter above the sprawling.  This is where the classic, inordinately-long Bond entrance kicks in, but we’re already given an eye-opening view of what’s to come.  Daniel Craig, of course, stand strong as the supreme spy, indulging in the usual “Bond perks,” without losing one iota of his unflappable manner and surprising wit.  His responses to the random and often humorous happenings in his immediate surroundings - like falling on a conveniently placed couch while a building around him collapses, or pulling a gun-point interrogation on a mouse sneaking into his room - come off as natural and somewhat understated, avoiding the pitfall of overindulgent goofiness.  Every actor leaves his own stamp in this iconic role, and Craig will long be remembered as a man who meshed both tough guy bravado and effortless charm in a way that hasn’t been seen since Sean Connery graced the screen as “Double Oh.”

The rest of the cast left a bit to be desired, but Craig’s command of his role more than made up for it, and in either case they were at least a touch above “just enough.”  The departure of Judi Dench as M in Skyfall left an unfillable void, since she provided a near pitch-perfect foil to the traditional paragon of masculinity that is Bond.  However, the circumstances of her exit in the previous film did help kick off the current plot, giving a reason (however spotty) for Bond’s presence in Mexico.  Ralph Fiennes takes up the mantle of M16’s head in an admirable but rather textbook performance, playing as if he following a master script of beleaguered bosses, with little nuance or personality - an unpleasant surprise, considering the man’s distinguished background and obvious ability.  Unfortunately, he’s not alone, for if I were to leverage a blanket complaint about the actors as a whole other than Craig, it’s that they seemed simply to go through the motions, adding nothing to their characters beyond the bare-minimum demanded by the weight of what they represent in the Bond Mythos.  The beautiful Léa Seydoux, playing Madeleine Swann, the latest “Bond girl” and daughter of an old nemesis, is virtually interchangeable with any of her Seventies-era counterparts, although her chemistry with Craig is palpable, despite the wide gulf separating their births.  The one notable exception to this is Ben Whishew, who plays M16’s long-suffering but ever-reliable quartermaster Q with a delightful blend of awkwardness and subtle smugness that never comes off as irritating, and actually gives him a more natural rapport with Craig than anyone else in the whole film.

In any other movie, such an admission would be tantamount to a dire condemnation, a character-based foulness in the heart of Denmark, but Spectre avoids the consequences of skimping on the character development by dancing a delicate and difficult line in maintaining the status quo without sliding into staleness and decay.  This impressive accomplishment is owed to a rare triumph of plot over character, cemented by the power of the Bond mythology.  The film’s momentum is driven first and foremost by the setting, and the characterizations, though comparatively thin, at least didn’t leave me wailing and gnashing my teeth.  This balancing act would have fallen to pieces were it not for Craig and his magnetic onscreen charisma, or if his co stars had been less than average; as they stood, I was willing - even delighted - to mostly ignore the actors' shortcomings and dive into the film's manic, high-octane world.

And Spectre certainly sanctifies our good faith, putting the pedal to the metal right from the start, bouncing from Mexico City, to the M16 home in London, and Rome, all while pursuing our film’s shadowy antagonist - who turns out to be none other than Ernst Blofeld, the mysterious mastermind behind the eponymous organization who also harbors a “surprising” connection to our film’s hero.  If it seems like I’m skimping a lot on the details, it’s because I am, but trust me - there's little that can’t be seen from a mile away.  Spectre is a movie held and propelled by a startling kinesis, one that defies easy description. The eternally actified Bond moves through his mission with old school zeal and determination, and must literally be seen in order to be fully understood.  In fact, this very celebration of the “old ways” of doing things speaks out in the side plot running congruent with Bond’s mission: M16, perceived as a relic of old-world spying, risks absorption and eventual dissolution into the Joint Intelligence Service.  This leads to M engaging in dimwitted but relevant ideological battle with the  devil-in-plain-sight leader of JIS, C (played by Andrew Scott), who also advocates a technologically-based global surveillance initiative called “Nine Eyes” that will supposedly replace traditional spies like Bond on the field.  This angle in the story is handled in a maddeningly hammy and meat-headed manner, but it isn’t shoved down the viewer’s gullet, serving only to contrast the (admittedly romanticized) fun and adventure found in Bond’s unrepentantly "classic" style of espionage with the cold, sterile and potentially-abusive threat posed by more “up-to-date” methods.

Just as Spectre succeeds despite its relatively weak characters, it also somehow manages to avoid stumbling over its many other flaws; it goes without saying that there is a lot to pick apart in this film, especially its pacing at some points.  Part of the downside for being such an action-oriented flick is that the stretches between the gunfights and fisticuffs feel that much longer, though I personally didn’t find this to be an issue for most of the movie.  More notable is the polarization strewn from its self-consciously old-school flavor.  The treatment of Seydoux’s character, the blandly avuncular showing by Fiennes’ M, along with the mandatory displays of hypermasculinity, might not sit well many modern audiences - nor, I imagine, would the old-fashioned extended torture sequences that’ll have you screaming “Why don’t you just shoot him?!” at the tops of your lungs.  These are legitimate critiques, and should be weighed in any debate regarding Spectre’s cinema mettle.  However, these disturbances are minor annoyances at their very worst, and the film was so linear in its direction that even the wonky pacing between fight scenes was far less painful than if this had been a less dynamic movie.

I came into this movie as a relative 00-novice, with mostly the older works for my reference besides Skyfall, so I might not reflect the reactions of someone who grew up with or participated in the mythology on a more continuous level.  Still, for all the cliches embedded into its thick-headed veneer,  there is a firm, pitch-perfect action flick pulsing beneath, and one that hardly misses a beat where it really counts.  It may not be the best Bond film ever, or even recently, but as long as you withhold your judgements, its energetic plot will carry you along for one wild ride.

Grade: B

Thursday, November 5, 2015

November Releases

 November Releases


We all know it's that special time of the month again.  There are a lot of big-name releases this time around, like the new Bond movie and the triumphant(?) return of Peanuts to the national consciousness.  On the television front, Aziz Ansari's pilot project Master of None is set to debut on Netflix, as well as AMC's Into the Badlands, a martial arts drama that looks like the bastard child of Mad Max and Lone Wolf and Cub.  And of course, every dedicated RPG gamer on the planet is geared up for the release of Fallout 4 in just a few short days.  With all this and more, November's going to be a very interesting, and very entertaining, month.

Movies

Television

 Games

Music

Books

See you at the movies! 

Friday, October 23, 2015

Star Wars: What's All the Hubbub, Bub?


We're Back!


I think it's fair to say that Star Wars is, without doubt, a "huge deal."  Uncountable geekdoms were spawned forty years ago from the moment the first interplanetary warship graced the silver screen, and few fictional characters in any medium can boast the devotion claimed by Luke, Leia, Solo, and the rest.  While I never fell deep into it, my sister has been a hardcore fan since the very beginning, and I've always appreciated its role in popularizing the Science Fantasy genre I've relished so much over the years.  So all that said, I confess I didn't think much of the announcement a few years back that Disney was releasing a new addition to the saga.  In fact, I'd say it left me down-right sour.  Between the 30-year gap from the last "beloved" trilogy, the relatively lackluster prequels, and the always-divisive presence of Disney in, well, everything, I hardly imagined there would be any room for longing from even the most devout Star Wars fan - and the relative apathy from my sister seemed to have confirm that.

I couldn't have been more wrong.  There's been mounting anticipation steaming from many quarters over the past year or so, but it was only on the trailer premiere and ticket sale opening this past Monday that I really felt the force of my errancy.  The full trailer has already broken 35 million views on YouTube, and even if most of the outrageous rumors of $700 ticket sales turn out to be just that, their existence speaks volumes about the excitement surrounding this upcoming blockbuster.

Naturally, such fevered expectation invites an analysis of some kind, and though I've toyed with dissecting the trailer to uncover its core, a number of other critics have already done just that, so instead I'll briefly examine just a few of the possible engines driving this surprising surge of Star Wars fanism, despite the setbacks of recent times.

1. The Eternal Return 
As implied by the trailers and the cinema rumor mill, this new iteration of the Star Wars franchise won't merely feature a brand new cast of fresh nobodies that plead us to care about them.  Instead, we've got Mark Hamil, Harrison Ford, and Carrie Fisher all making a return, stirring the pot of nostalgia for both long-term followers and those raised on their eulogizing memoirs of escapes into distant galaxies.  Part of the problem with the previous trilogy is that it felt disconnected from everything that imbued Star Wars with meaning, especially the original cast and their idiosyncrasies.  This new movie, therefore, must feel like a "coming home" of sorts for many long-time fans. 

2. Fresh promise
Still, we shouldn't skimp on the new characters entirely; Daisy Ridley and John Boyega will share the spotlight with the "old favs," and if the trailer is anything to go by, they'll breathe fresh life into the franchise, making their own mark in Star Wars history.  Ridley's apparent rendition of the Mysterious Lone Drifter archetype - so common in these epics, but so uncommonly played by a woman - may show her to be the next Luke Skywalker, and Boyega's prominence in the trailer all but cements his arc as one from darkness to redemption, and finally onto heroism.  We won't know for sure what role they play in the greater scheme of things until the final wire, but it's the mystery that's so engaging.  This isn't a fabricated origin story, the conclusion to which is already set in stone; we really don't know what destiny awaits for Ridley and Boyega or the characters they play.  But I'm sure we're all eager to find out.

3. The Hero's Journey
This last point culminates much of the appeal of the other two - and indeed, probably explains the popularity of Star Wars as a whole more than any other individual factor.  Let's face it: however much it's parodied or denied, however much it's criticized and discounted as meaningless through the lens of comparative mythology, Joseph Campbell's monomyth has left an undeniable mark on the human psyche since it was first formulated.  Who hasn't wanted to be part of a greater battle between Good and Evil?  Who hasn't wanted to rise from nothing, discover your fate and your place in the world, and make a difference?  While cynical or "mature" minds scorn these fantasies as infantile or even dangerous, their appeal is undeniable and timeless.  Star Wars is Campbell's chanting herald in the movie realm, and the star ensemble so far seems ripe to deliver the age-old goods: a few fresh-faced wanderers - both literal and metaphorical - called to adventure and guided by both Old Masters and old salts.  This is the nexus of Star Wars, the heart and soul of its power, and the trailer flows with all the pregnant possibilities that this new journey can offer.

While I admit that I'm not foaming at the mouth or tossing money at my screen on the return of the franchise after over a decade, I'm a good bit more excited than I was just a few months ago.  Only time will tell if Lucas and co. can deliver on their promise, but Star Wars is sure to be on everyone's minds come the holiday season.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Movie Review: Pan


Movie: Pan
Directed by: Joe Wright
Starring: Levi Miller, Hugh Jackman, Garrett Hedlund

Verdict:
Loud, hammy, and laughably anachronistic, Joe Wright’s unnecessary adaptation attempts to give a “fresh” origin story to J.M. Barrie’s well-known characters, but succeeds only in killing the magic of the original and throwing all charm and wonder to the crocodiles.

In depth:
When approaching an adaptation, one should always keep an open mind and analyze it on its own merits, apart from the original that inspired it.  This is risky, to be sure, as every adaptation carries the potential to be either a spectacular success or a momentous flop, but the fairest and most logical view should be that of neutrality, and a good-natured trust in the filmmaker’s own creative vision.  Unfortunately, this very openness leaves the resulting failure all the more painful, for Joe Wright, whatever his intent in crafting Pan, falls far short of the mark, getting lost in a murky fog of glaring CG and confounding action sequences, and drowned in a hum of overacting, stale deliveries, and bizarre anachronisms in musical choice.  The resulting concoction is a poison to Barrie’s legacy and the movie world as a whole, and though not the worst thing to blight the screen this century, has certainly left the worst kind of impression for both long-time Pan fans and newcomers alike.

The story kicks us off in the most conventional and cliched way possible; a baby left on the steps of an orphanage by his surprisingly nimble young mother, his only link to her, a letter, a piece of jewelry, and the inevitable promise to come back and see him “one day.”  Wright and his crew do away with all pretenses of subtlety and finesse right from the get go; the infant Peter - and by extension, the audience - are given the full “chosen one” shebang - even before the meat of the plot starts to pickle.  This is a lazy move full stop, and can make or break story progression based on the audience’s willingness to suspend disbelief.  Despite this major slip, the first few scenes of this movie were more or less the best in the entire flick, giving young Levi Miller a chance to flex his acting chops and paint a unique portrait of Peter as a vulnerable yet silently courageous child, sparkling with a surprising degree of charm.  I am sad to say that this is the best development we see of any actor of the film, and despite Miller’s tolerable effort, the overwrought brutishness and ridiculous outfits of the nuns running his orphanage blotted any light the young actor could generate.

Things only went south from there, for after the plot gained a bit of traction and finally sets off, we’re bereft of even the simple joy of Miller’s modest efforts and thrust head first into an unrecognizable Neverland.  Anyone expecting a magical romp through archetypes of boyhood wonder and whimsy are soon disillusioned by a dreary world of industrial mining and forced labor, all presided over by Hugh Jackman as Blackbeard, living it up in the hammiest performance I’ve seen him in to date.  I usually enjoy Jackman’s brand of tough-guy machismo blended with whatever is required of the script, but this time, he goes a little too far, wallowing in an overplayed corporate cynicism when he isn’t screaming his lines at the tops of his lungs over the blaring, anachronistic rifts of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Team Spirit,” courtesy of his collective mine slaves, as the pirate ship ferrying Peter docks to unload its latest human cargo.  

I want this image to sink in for a minute: a crowd of dirty slave miners, most of them children, all cheering as a flying pirate ship makes landfall, and the flamboyantly-dressed pirate king stands dramatically before them...with everyone chanting the lyrics for an alt rock anthem from the 90s.  Never before has a movie scene made me convulse with actual emotional pain, but that’s not even the worst of it.  Regardless of your status as an adaptation and your relationship to the source material, as a fantasy film, Wright’s main mission is to maintain his world’s fragile grasp on the audience’s wonder - and hence, their suspension of disbelief.  I can understand, on some level, why the filmmakers made the choices they had which resulted in the wide-as-a-mountain deviations from the books; the miners, and Blackbeard’s arbitrary rules on promotions and “demotions” (read: executions) are probably meant to mirror the adult world’s drudgery, and set up Peter’s refusal to grow up.  That much is clear, though still a poorly executed waste of potential that fails to factor into Peter’s predestination plot.  However, the Nirvana chorus line has no fricking place in the film whatsoever, and I can’t imagine what, if anything, it was supposed to coax out of me besides my bile.  All it shows is that Wright and company have no understanding of their genre or what it’s meant to convey - an assessment held up as the movie progresses.

After this early nosedive, the story never regains its balance, helped least of all by the introduction of new characters - Rooney Mara as a static Tiger Lily, and of course, Garrett Hedlund’s “rendition” of a young James Hook.  I don’t know what they were going for when they took the suave yet brutal buccaneer and morphed him into a bizarre Indian Jones expy, but even all that aside, it could have worked if Hedlund didn’t drive the Pan Acting School’s theme of shouting your lines in the most exaggerated way possible to the absolute limit.  He was devoid of any depth or pizzazz, as heroic or cowardly as the plot demanded him to be, and was generally unlikable through it all.  To top it off, Pan’s place as an origin story effectively removes any tension or concern over his fate by the end, so we’re stuck staring at him longer than most of us would care to. Catching a glimpse of how Peter and Hook - the archetypal nemeses of modern children’s literature - interacted before they became enemies was my main draw to this film.  However, the dearth of any meaningful interaction between the two, plus Hedlund’s abysmal failure as Hook in general, stripped me of my only real expectation, leaving me lost in Wright’s funhouse horror pit passed off as Neverland.

Beyond these massive stumbling points, Pan has little else to offer its audience.  The CGI was lame and unpleasant to look at, especially during the action sequences, which were all, bar the climactic battle, dull and plodding.   The whole thing left me scratching my head, wondering where the $150 million they apparently spent on this monstrosity actually went.  In fact, exact descriptives of any kind are hard for me to draw up, derivative and just plain boring as this film was.  The hamfisted lessons on childhood innocence and adult duplicity were simple-minded at best, and in either case got lost in the film's many other shortcomings.

This isn’t to say that everything in Pan was rage-inducing; a few of the gags worked, and the final battle was less objectionable than the ones preceding it.  But that’s all to it, really, and even then, some of the continuity-related asides -  like Hook’s fear of crocodiles, or his and Peter’s future as mortal enemies - are told with all the subtlety of a jack-knife to the skull, signalling the filmmakers’ poor grasp of humor, timing - or anything else, to be honest.  Pan isn’t just a “bad movie” - those can at least be enjoyable on some level.  It fails hard in multiple ways: as an engaging origin story for a collection of beloved characters; as a fantasy film, providing healthy escape through the element of wonder; and even, more broadly, as a lesson in storytelling, proving unable to even get the done-to-death hero’s journey right.  While I believe that few things are beyond redemption, Pan’s poor box office returns and total disservice to the very core of film makes the heavily hinted sequel unlikely this side of Neverland.

Grade: F

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

October Releases


October Releases





The first month of the Fall premieres has come and gone, giving us a general sense of how the rest of this season will play out.  There have been a few gems, a couple of duds, and many more I refrain from judging until I see more of what they got. On another note, theater season is back in swing, so between that, the movies, and the continual unfurling of the fall line up, October promises to be an interesting month.

Movies 

Television

Games

Music

Books

See you at the movies!

Friday, September 25, 2015

Criticism Concepts: Part 2: Critiquing on the right side of the brain


 


I made a post a few months back outlining what I see as the basic consideration every would-be critic should give when examining a work’s merit - namely, how it affects one on an emotional level.  While the details of our first impressions can get lost in the fog of our mind’s forgotten moments, the emotional impact they have on our thinking usually transcends plain old awareness, so long as the impression is sufficiently strong (and if it isn’t sufficiently strong, well, there you go).  But you’d be wise to ask what, exactly, you’re supposed to do with this new understanding.  You’ve sculpted your gut reactions into something coherent and, dare I say, intelligible; but how do you know what you’re saying is actually accurate in any way?

This is the second pitfall set up to entrap the would-be critic, and it can be the trickiest to avoid. Recognizing it for what it is requires not just a certain degree of work on your part, but also a different perspective than we’re accustomed to using in everyday life.  Let’s say that you’ve just watched the latest blockbuster this weekend, and after two brutal hours, it’s left you colder than a corpse on ice. So, heeding my advice from before, you decide to expand you’re chilly dislike into a solid critique; the film, you now say, is crippled by poor acting, terrible pacing, and a distinct lack of direction.  

So far, so good.  But what does that even mean?  What was it about the acting that made it so poor?  Was the movie paced too quickly, or too slowly?  And if it “lacked direction,” where, exactly, was it supposed to go?  These are legitimate questions, and any director or screenwriter serious about his or her own growth has a right to ask them.  Unfortunately, the answers, even from professional critics, are often vague and discourteous, leaving a sour taste in the mouths of ambitious creators and doing little to adjust the negative opinion most have of critics in general.

It’s not that critics necessarily mean to be tight on the constructive criticism; while there are a few jerks out there who thrive on negativity for its own sake, most critics, in their minds, are simply cutting the chaff to make room for the wheat.  But critics and creators (as well as consumers) see and interpret a work of art in completely different ways. The critic, more often than not, takes the approach of the analyst; their conclusions stem from a process of textual distillation, which can often read like an accountant’s business report.  By about how many degrees of plausibility does this character deviate from “the norm?”  Was this a “proper” setting for the story, or not?  

There’s nothing innately wrong with this, mind you, but the critic should always remember that doing this effectively splinters the work into discrete, measurable quantities that are then evaluated as if they had no connection to one another.  This is completely at odds with how the creator’s vision usually works.  While the creative process may vary among artists and their mediums, “holism” is the one constant through it all; the characters, setting, and other details all swirl together in a tangle that can be very hard to extricate.  The downsides of this are well know, as attested by anyone who’s tried to tell a writer about a pressing weakness in his story he’s just too close to notice.  However, embracing a work holistically enables you to see and measure each segment and each theme with a view towards the bigger picture.  By foregoing needle-point analysis, you gain clarity on how story elements interconnect and simply experience it in a way that touches something beyond the checklist of “proper” story elements.

This is the reason why critics, while often right in their play-by-play assessments, can also be spectacularly wrong on so many fronts.  Quick question: what do Moby Dick, Where the Wild Things Are, and The Big Lebowski all have in common?  They were all originally panned - or at least ambivalently received - by critics at the time of their creation.  If I may paraphrase the great Anton Ego, critics have a tremendous blind spot when it comes to anything new - in large part because “the new,” however it’s defined, cannot be easily analyzed.  Some things can only be experienced, which often involve time and an openness that borders on vulnerability.  It's hard, and takes practice, but your efforts will pave the way for more accurate - and more comprehending - reviews.

So where does the critic go from here?  Keep your analysis at hand, to be sure; but once you get your initial reactions in check, try to step back and piece them together into what you took away from the film as an experienced whole.  A second or third viewing may be desirable, but not necessary; even a first-time blush can offer a wealth of information and kaleidoscopic impressions.  Granted, the movie may still be an absolute stinker regardless of how you look at it, but in placing your analysis in the context of the intended experience, you now understand, at least, where the creator was coming from - and, more importantly, where they may need to go in order to get on the right track.  At the end of the day, the critic’s mission is to illuminate, not pontificate, and setting tentative creators straight should employ more than scornful smugness and a cold, unengaged analysis.