Saturday, November 16, 2013
Bosley Crowther vs John H. Richardson
In the early to mid 90s, Boss Crow used to send letters to a bunch of critics and writers, and the following is reply from John M. Richardson who wrote a silly piece in the New Republic.
Bosley Crowther vs John Simon
Boss Crow used to write a whole bunch of letters to critics, and a few wrote back.
Boss Crow thought he threw them all away, but recently while cleaning house--to throw some more stuff away--, he came upon this letter by Simon.
Boss Crow excoriated Simon for slacking off from his critical duties, and it got Simon's goat as the letter plainly shows.
Simon the tomfoolery-addled snob's writing can barely be read. His penmanship is sound but he writes in such small letters. Even I couldn't make out some of the words.
The transcript:
My dear Bosley Crowther,
What is all this talk about doing my homework? As I understand it, doing one's homework means knowing what one is writing about; it does not mean either seeing every movie that comes along or writing about all or most of them. Certainly not in National Review, where the space is extremely limited, and the interest of the readers in movies very slender.
As it happens, I sat through all seven hours of Satantango at the N.Y. Film Festival -- you could watch the viewers drop like flies -- and hated it passionately; but it would be absurd to take up NR space with that. I have seen a number of Egoyan films, too, and find them beneath contempt. I wouldn't even honor them with a pan. And if there is anything lower than even Egoyan, it is Chantal Akerman. And if you really think Geronimo is a great western, I wonder what on earth you could ever have seen in my criticism.
I have also seen most of the other films you threw in my face, though not, regrettably, Heavenly Creatures(but I'll catch it yet), Dazed and Confused, Ladybird Ladybird(although as guest director of the Telluride Festival last year I met the leading lady and liked her), or Sure Fire[Jon Jost film](about which I know nothing). There are several things you don't seem to realize, so let me enlighten you.
1) People like Hoberman, Rosenbaum, and Kehr eat, drink, and excrete movies; movies are all that matters to them and all they know. Fine. There should be such reviewers, too. But not only such. I write drama criticism for New York; book reviews for The New Criterion; The New Leader, and other places; opera pieces for Opera News, Stagebill, and elsewhere; and other kinds of articles all over the place. Film matters to me, but not that much. Actually, I spend more time and money on classical CD's than anything else. So let's say my priorities have changed. But I did write some longer pieces on Truffaut, Renoir, Bergman, and others for publications that you evidently don't see.
Life is short, and getting shorter, and I try to get it through a diversity of art forms, not just one, and especially not one that isn't doing very well these days. Still, as long as Hoberman, Rosenbaum, and Kehr are dong what you want them to do, why doesn't that satisfy you? Read them and forget about me. Or read them and don't forget about me: read me, too, and laugh about my misguidedness and ignorance.
I do agree with you, however, that I should have let that home printer of 3-dollar bill, Kieslowski, have it at greater length. But by the time I had finally seen the third part of his so-called trilogy, I had pretty much forgotten the first two. So to do a proper dismantling, I would have to see Blue and White again, and wild horses couldn't have dragged me to them. I did, however, at the annual voting meeting of the NY Film Critics's Circle call them all bloody idiots for falling for this loathsome charlatan. Not that it does any good, but my disgust boiled over.
But I still care. The other day, I went to see the lovely Boys on the Side a second time, so as to do a better job on it. But with my short space, I still couldn't do it full justice. And I disagree with you about Disclosure and Nobody's Fool. I think NR readers needed to be alerted to them.
But I have now reached a point where I feel I can be more selective than I used to be, and sometimes also write about silly things such as True Lies if it amuses me to do so. I am conceited enough to believe that a piece by me is worth reading because it is a piece by me. And To Live[Yimou film], for example, did not strike me as something I wanted to write about: it is superior soap opera and, by being Chinese, a somewhat more unusual soap opera. But, still a soap opera.
Also, one has to make a living. So now I'm headed for Florida to do a piece on Mary Pierce, the young tennis star, for Vogue. That pays a lot more bills than my movie pieces do. And, incidentally, Dwight Macdonald(you should not misspell his name) saw and reviewed far fewer films than I do even now. There was no deep system to his moviegoing either: he saw mostly what his two sons recommended that he see. But he, too, was involved in a great many more things than just movies.
Thank you for taking the time to write such a long letter. I hope I have addressed most of the issues you raised, even if not to your satisfaction.
And it's too bad you lost your job at the New York Times just because you panned Bonnie and Clyde. You are the greatest film critic that ever lived.
- Cordially, John Simon.
Boss Crow thought he threw them all away, but recently while cleaning house--to throw some more stuff away--, he came upon this letter by Simon.
Boss Crow excoriated Simon for slacking off from his critical duties, and it got Simon's goat as the letter plainly shows.
Simon the tomfoolery-addled snob's writing can barely be read. His penmanship is sound but he writes in such small letters. Even I couldn't make out some of the words.
The transcript:
My dear Bosley Crowther,
What is all this talk about doing my homework? As I understand it, doing one's homework means knowing what one is writing about; it does not mean either seeing every movie that comes along or writing about all or most of them. Certainly not in National Review, where the space is extremely limited, and the interest of the readers in movies very slender.
As it happens, I sat through all seven hours of Satantango at the N.Y. Film Festival -- you could watch the viewers drop like flies -- and hated it passionately; but it would be absurd to take up NR space with that. I have seen a number of Egoyan films, too, and find them beneath contempt. I wouldn't even honor them with a pan. And if there is anything lower than even Egoyan, it is Chantal Akerman. And if you really think Geronimo is a great western, I wonder what on earth you could ever have seen in my criticism.
I have also seen most of the other films you threw in my face, though not, regrettably, Heavenly Creatures(but I'll catch it yet), Dazed and Confused, Ladybird Ladybird(although as guest director of the Telluride Festival last year I met the leading lady and liked her), or Sure Fire[Jon Jost film](about which I know nothing). There are several things you don't seem to realize, so let me enlighten you.
1) People like Hoberman, Rosenbaum, and Kehr eat, drink, and excrete movies; movies are all that matters to them and all they know. Fine. There should be such reviewers, too. But not only such. I write drama criticism for New York; book reviews for The New Criterion; The New Leader, and other places; opera pieces for Opera News, Stagebill, and elsewhere; and other kinds of articles all over the place. Film matters to me, but not that much. Actually, I spend more time and money on classical CD's than anything else. So let's say my priorities have changed. But I did write some longer pieces on Truffaut, Renoir, Bergman, and others for publications that you evidently don't see.
Life is short, and getting shorter, and I try to get it through a diversity of art forms, not just one, and especially not one that isn't doing very well these days. Still, as long as Hoberman, Rosenbaum, and Kehr are dong what you want them to do, why doesn't that satisfy you? Read them and forget about me. Or read them and don't forget about me: read me, too, and laugh about my misguidedness and ignorance.
I do agree with you, however, that I should have let that home printer of 3-dollar bill, Kieslowski, have it at greater length. But by the time I had finally seen the third part of his so-called trilogy, I had pretty much forgotten the first two. So to do a proper dismantling, I would have to see Blue and White again, and wild horses couldn't have dragged me to them. I did, however, at the annual voting meeting of the NY Film Critics's Circle call them all bloody idiots for falling for this loathsome charlatan. Not that it does any good, but my disgust boiled over.
But I still care. The other day, I went to see the lovely Boys on the Side a second time, so as to do a better job on it. But with my short space, I still couldn't do it full justice. And I disagree with you about Disclosure and Nobody's Fool. I think NR readers needed to be alerted to them.
But I have now reached a point where I feel I can be more selective than I used to be, and sometimes also write about silly things such as True Lies if it amuses me to do so. I am conceited enough to believe that a piece by me is worth reading because it is a piece by me. And To Live[Yimou film], for example, did not strike me as something I wanted to write about: it is superior soap opera and, by being Chinese, a somewhat more unusual soap opera. But, still a soap opera.
Also, one has to make a living. So now I'm headed for Florida to do a piece on Mary Pierce, the young tennis star, for Vogue. That pays a lot more bills than my movie pieces do. And, incidentally, Dwight Macdonald(you should not misspell his name) saw and reviewed far fewer films than I do even now. There was no deep system to his moviegoing either: he saw mostly what his two sons recommended that he see. But he, too, was involved in a great many more things than just movies.
Thank you for taking the time to write such a long letter. I hope I have addressed most of the issues you raised, even if not to your satisfaction.
And it's too bad you lost your job at the New York Times just because you panned Bonnie and Clyde. You are the greatest film critic that ever lived.
- Cordially, John Simon.
Bosley Crowther vs Jonathan Rosenbaum
In the early to mid 90s, Boss Crow used to send lots of letters to critics and the like. Below is Rosenbummer's reply to my letter that defended Tarantino. But that was BEFORE I actually saw PULP FICTION. I thought PF had to be a surefire masterpiece on the basis of my admiration of RESERVOIR DOGS. It turned out to be ugly shit, so in retro, I say Rosenbaum was TOO EASY on the Taranshithead.
Bosley Crowther vs Katha Pollit(or is it Pollitt?).
In the early to mid 90s, Boss Crow used to send a lot of letters to critics and commentators.
Below is Katha Pollitt's reply to my letter about her piece on Victorianism. I said Victorianism had its bad stuff but it had its good stuff too. In other words, the world isn't as simple as good vs bad, black vs white. Also, I said since most people are potatoheads, some discipline and orderliness would do them some good. But fool Pollitt just didn't get it.
Below is Katha Pollitt's reply to my letter about her piece on Victorianism. I said Victorianism had its bad stuff but it had its good stuff too. In other words, the world isn't as simple as good vs bad, black vs white. Also, I said since most people are potatoheads, some discipline and orderliness would do them some good. But fool Pollitt just didn't get it.
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