The often stark divide between audiences and critics has become a meme of its own in the era of review aggregator sites like Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic. Hollywoke has only made things worse for itself, churning out a wave of intersectional sludge that panders to the sort of coastal elite grads who write reviews while simultaneously driving away the ticket-buying public.
Critics just lurve dreck like Ghostbusters (2016) and Hannah Gadsby’s monotonous whinge-a-thons. Nobody else does. On the other hand, critics sneer at silver-screen “deplorables” like We’re the Millers, while audiences flock for the rare experience of just having a good laugh without being lectured to.
But such critical-audience divides are almost as old as cinema itself. Interestingly, time has tended to prove the audience more right than the critics. A host of films that were panned by critics have gone on to be revered as classics.
Metropolis (1927), for instance, was derided as “a technical marvel with feet of clay” (New York Times) and “silly” (no less an authority than H G Wells). Yet today, it is almost equally revered on Rotten Tomatoes, rating 97 per cent and 92 per cent with critics and audiences respectively. It was the first film to be included on UNESCO’s Memory of the World Register.
It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) has become such a beloved Christmas tale that it’s hard to believe how much critics hated it, or that it was a box office flop. Ironically, the NYT (again) sneered at what is arguably its greatest strength, calling its sentimentality its greatest weakness.
But it’s the horror genre which seems to have most routinely earned critical sneering.
Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) has become a landmark film, with its “shower scene” one of the most famous in movie history. But critics called it a “gimmick movie”, while Guardian and Observer critic C A Lejeune walked out of the theatre.
Our old friend the NYT called The Exorcist (1973) “practically impossible to sit through” and a “new low for grotesque special effects”. Rolling Stone screeched at its theological overtones: “religious piss”.
Science fiction was back in a huge way in the late ’70s, thanks to the likes of Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977). But those films were both family friendly popcorn-sellers, so perhaps critics were simply unprepared for the brutal horror of Alien (1979). The NYT hated it, naturally, and so did middlebrow Bible the Guardian. Their biggest complaint was that it was an old-dark-house horror film in space. Well, yes… it is.
Mixing SF and horror was a critical (and box office) death sentence for John Carpenter’s bleak, Lovecraftian The Thing (1982). Even SF publications hated it. Cinefantastique and Starlog both panned it. The NYT (this should be a drinking game, by now) called it “depressing”. Again… yes. That’s kind of the point, guys.
As Marty McFly would say, “I guess you guys aren’t ready for that, yet. But your kids are gonna love it.” Since its disappointing release, The Thing has seen its status grow to an 83 per cent/92 per cent rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
For Ridley Scott, 1982 was no less an annus horribilis. Hot on the heels of the critical drubbing of Alien, Blade Runner was a commercial and critical failure. Many complained that it was too slow, while protagonist Roy Batty was described as “an Aryan android straight out of a Wagnerian nightmare”. It seems like some critics specialise in missing the point.
As with Alien and The Thing, the moviemakers ended up having the last laugh. Blade Runner has also gone on to be regarded as one of the greatest films of its genre, and 20th in Empire magazine’s “500 Greatest Movies of All Time.”
Side note: Denis Villeneuve’s 2017 sequel Blade Runner 2049 may have flopped at the box office, but those of us who did see it seem to agree that it will eventually be recognised as right up there with its progenitor. Currently it’s on an 88 per cent/81 per cent on the Tomatometer.
The early ’80s certainly weren’t a good critical time for horror. Stanley Kubrick may be regarded as one of the great auteurs of cinema, but critics hated his The Shining (1980) almost as much as they did his 1975 effort, Barry Lyndon. Even Stephen King himself hated it. Unbelievably, the bravura performances of Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall were a particular target of scorn.
Suffice to say, Kubrick is laughing from the grave: The Shining is today recognised as a classic, while its impact on popular culture has been immense.