Critic's lament

I'm delighted my writing about the new documentary Metallica: Some Kind of Monster prompted at least one reader to seek the film out--despite Marcus Theatres' dismaying efforts to keep it in celluloid purgatory.

But in rereading my piece, I'm struck by something: although I really liked the film, not enough of that comes across in the review. Overall I'm pleased with what I wrote, but I wish I had praised the film as unambiguously as I did on this blog the other day: "The movie is great!"

OK, maybe not that unambiguously, although it seems to me the lifestyle of the blurb whore does have its advantages. But if I fail in a review, including this one, to firmly state a like or dislike, it may be because I'm struggling with a verity of arts and entertainment writing I've learned in my 22-month career as a newspaper critic: it's not always easy to come up with opinions on deadline. My fondness for the Metallica movie has grown in the weeks since I saw it, and today I would write a different, more enthusiastic review.

This may fall in the category of well, duh, but it bothers me that my critical reactions have a pesky way of changing over time. For one thing, when I'm reviewing a film, book, play or CD, I'd like to think my reactions are always relevant, but I confess they sometimes relate immediately to things other than the work: whether I'm hungry, for example, or sitting in an uncomfortable seat. (I do, of course, strive to compensate for an empty belly or a sore rear.)

Also, I don't always have enough time to take in a work fully, although this is mostly a concern only for CDs. I know I can competently evaluate a film or play based on one viewing, or a book on one reading, but CDs generally take repeated listenings. So I fret that I don't always give CDs enough attention. I mean, I'm still discovering things about albums I loved when I was nine and have listened to hundreds, even thousands of times. So can I really come to appreciate a CD over just a few days of listening? Probably not. But I try.

Fortunately, the act of writing has a way of helping me coax out my reactions, and I'm learning to trust my opinions, even when they provoke hate mail. But I sometimes can't help but look back and wish I'd written something differently.