A good friend
of mine, and quite a student of history, told me not long ago
that the more history he learns, the more doubtful he becomes.
Why? Simply because everything (possibly except certain hard
science) is written from a biased point of view. And, there
are always unknown influences on a writer. What's more,
the way a writer's material is presented and edited can
drastically alter the original point.
All of these
matters were brought into sharp relief for me recently from
such disparate sources as Mother Jones magazine and Columbia
Journalism Review.
To demonstrate
this premise, let's stay away from politics, or anything
terribly controversial, and look at the film industry. Studios
have been taking great liberties with critics' words since
day one. Here are a few fun examples.
Movie:
Seven
(New Line
Cinema, 1995)
Ad copy:
"A masterpiece." -- Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment
Weekly
What
Gleiberman really said: "The deadly sins premise...is
actually rather corny; it's like something out of a Clive
Barker potboiler.... The credits sequence, with its jumpy
frames and near-subliminal flashes of psychoparaphernalia,
is a small masterpiece of dementia."
Movie:
Hoodlum
(United
Artists, 1997)
Ad
copy: "Irresistible." -- Kenneth Turan of the
Los Angeles Times
What
Turan really said: "Even [Laurence Fishburne's]
incendiary performance can't ignite Hoodlum, a would-be
gangster epic that generates less heat than a nickel cigar....
Fishburne's Bumpy is fierce, magnetic, irresistible....
But even this actor...can only do so much."
Movie:
Foul Play
(Paramount,
1978)
Ad copy:
"Good fun." -- David Ansen of Newsweek
What
Ansen really said: "[The screenwriter's] concoction
is all in good fun.... But to anyone who has seen half the
movies he appropriates, and can therefore guess every twist
of the plot miles before it happens, Foul Play's frenetic
eagerness to please is about as refreshing as the whiff of
an exhaust pipe on a hot city afternoon."
Of course,
these film critics have lots of pressure put on them to fit
in and toe the studio line.
Movie critics
such as Pauline Kael and Judith Crist were both blackballed
from studio screenings for panning films from Warner Bros. in
the 60s and 70s. Even Siskel and Ebert have been the object
of banishment for short periods of time. Less well-known writers
have often been ejected from special performances for their
less-than-savory interviews or articles concerning films or
their stars.
Rod Lurie,
formerly of Los Angeles magazine, said he was "banned for
life" by Warner Bros. for describing Danny DeVito as "a
testicle with arms" in his Other People's Money review.
Gerstel, then new to her beat at the Detroit Free Press, filed
an early report on poor audience response to Steven Spielberg's
Hook ("Hook Sinks") and received a stern lesson in
studio politics: she was dropped from Columbia-TriStar's
and Amblin Entertainment's press lists and (because "loose
cannons" are considered a communal problem) soon found
herself barred from Warner Bros. and Universal functions as
well. Two years later, Amblin allowed Gerstel only minimal access
when Spielberg's Schindler's List opened.
Sure enough,
a successful film is big bucks, and the studios must guard their
investment. What should we think then of the need to self perpetuate
that must infect all large institutions? How about government,
health care, education, and dozens more? Do you think you're
really getting the straight scoop?
So what's
the answer? As in so many things: Tuum est. It's up to you,
to use your God given brain to separate the wheat from the chaff.