The critics are ecstatic about Blade Runner 2049. Review in Guardian, for instance, reads as written during orgasm. To me, the film seemed OK, but just.
The previous film I saw was Mother!, “thought-provoking product of a singularly ambitious artistic vision”, in reality laughingly banal allegory about the artist and the inspiration.
Before that one, the critics were raving about Dunkirk, film cold as the inside of the fridge and similarly interesting to watch (that’s kind of OK, too, if you are not very hungry).
It got me wondering why these explosions of enthusiasm about films that obviously don’t deserve it.
Long ago I used to write film reviews and I had to deliver one every week. The times have gotten faster and now critics have to publish every few days or even every day. So they write about the Transformers, the feminism of Wonder Woman, depth of Thor – they are daily exposed to superhero comic book adaptations coming from Hollywood and intended for 15 years old.
Imagine being 30+ film critic with your brain dripping out your ears while watching this conveyor belt of super comic shit and then, suddenly, you see Dunkirk, where they have to use the airplanes to fly. What an idea!
After Transformers, Mother! really strikes you as deeply philosophical.
Our brains are built to compare. If you are following all the current blockbuster fodder, it will become a baseline to judge everything. In short, anything that resembles a film, something with the beginning and end, and at least some logic in it, suddenly seems to you a masterpiece.
Never trust an overworked critic.