“Let Movies Be Movies” Begs the Question - What Are Movies?
Art and entertainment aren't mutually exclusive.
Stan culture has never been more vogue, more polarized, more obsessive than it is today, with social media standing in as a megaphone for speaking personal opinions into the metaverse of like-minded cyborgs. The latest manifestation of stan culture surrounding recent releases like “Barbie,” “Oppenheimer,” and most of all “Animal” seems to have whipped out the signpost to announce: Critics not allowed!
Once the ‘toxic’ trend of cancel culture underwent collective reconsideration, it gave birth to its current off-spring, stan culture. The current milieu, characterized by a heightened sensitivity to unfavourable commentary has epitomised the rhetoric of “let movies be movies.” The pushback against critique has not only attempted to sideline any voice of disapproval but has also evolved into disconcerting acts of abusing, threatening, and even doxing critics.
What is it about movies of this zeitgeist that makes them so sacrosanct to their “stans” that they unleash their shared fury over dissenters of their personal picks? What makes the current fans of popular movies claim their reception and assert their enjoyment of a work of art, beyond public debate/discourse -- being as more strongly credible, significantly valid and legitimately right than that of the rest?
Artist-writer Charlie Square says, “There is perhaps no phrase that has caused irreparable damage to the collective media literacy of the internet than ‘let people enjoy things.’ The sentiment itself at face value is largely harmless, but it has become a catch-all to shut down critique and discourse surrounding art, culture, and entertainment … I would call this a crisis of contentization. The structures of TikTok, Instagram, and even Twitter are moving towards presenting content generated algorithmically … We must engage with these interfaces to receive ‘better’ or more personalized content, the privilege to have our algorithmically defined echo chamber continue to close in its walls….”
Thanks to the technological genius of our surveillant social media platforms, the privilege of having personalized content delivered to us, customized to our specific tastes, presenting only and only what will be appreciated by its user has resulted in an audience spoilt for choice – one dissonant with its own social reality.
This cultural oblivion allowing one to cherry pick the flow of information in their social media feeds, programmed to automatically weed out content not serving one’s individualistic interests, has thus grown into a behemoth collective alter-ego that acts in anticipation of the validation of their online audience, feels entitled to being “liked” and makes demands as consumers to neither be questioned nor shamed for their “taste.”
This atavistic shift in the audience reception, assumes that the critique of the film is a critique of their personhood – a personal attack on their consumption choices. Today's audience often finds their own identity realized within the aesthetic of the media that they enjoy viewing. Those who feel a critique of movies sours their own pleasure perceive media only as pieces of amusement -- sans ideology, politics and thereby consequence – which is not the case.
Siegfried Kracauer’s From Caligari to Hitler argues that films are revealing of a culture’s psyche. He posits that even if the objective of films and their makers is to simply satisfy the audience or turn in huge profits, “the best way for them to do so is to reflect things that a culture either badly wants to be true or deeply identifies with on some level.” He argues that films aren’t just documents of a culture’s values and chosen narrative tropes but a kind of document of a culture’s subconscious, one that filmmakers often don’t know that they’re making. He explains how the directorial choices of the filmmaker are similar to those of an author. In narrating a fictional storyline, they create a kind of “text” encoded with ideologies, which are “read by its designated readers, the audience. Besides, films hire the intellectual and emotional labour of numerous individuals and this reflect the conscientious agreement of all those involved in the larger project. He writes, “films particularly suggestive of mass desires coincide with outstanding box-office successes would seem a matter of course. But a hit may cater only to one of many coexisting demands, and not even to a very specific one.”
Cultural critique, which was once thought to be the territory of “high-brow” intellectuals revered for their astute insights, has fallen out of favor and into the domain of the public. Arguably, there was inherent virtue in critique coming from informed professionals, whose sharp ratings and reviews used to significantly impact how a film performed at the box-office. Cut to now, the opinions of film critics, along with other cultural journalists are being taken with a grain of salt. The slightest mention of adjectives in the vicinity of “problematic” directed at a film like “Kabir Singh” or “Animal” draw the ire of male audiences, who reduce the criticism to “pretentious snobbishness.”
When movies like “Oppenheimer” are critiqued for their flawed and misguided representation of a historical tragedy, the fandom attempts to salvage their credibility by finding merit in technicality, aesthetics, and the “art” of film-making. Yet, art when being true to its purpose has never shied away from reality, no matter how grim. It makes one question why movies like “All Quiet on the Western Front,” “The Great Indian Kitchen,” or “Jallikattu” remain marginalized from the mainstream -- appreciated only by select audiences and critics. It forces the question, must movies gloss over social reality to prioritize entertainment?
In a cultural milieu where entertainment ascends all, the realm of art finds itself overshadowed by immediate gratification. This not only eclipses critical intellectual engagement but also relegates accountability to the periphery. However, to truly reconcile art with entertainment, a collective commitment to fostering accountability, both in the act of creation and the act of reception, becomes paramount. It necessitates a reevaluation of the directorial approach, urging creators to intimately comprehend the aspirations of their audience and, in turn, assume a heightened responsibility for the consequences of their creative decision.
Simultaneously, viewers must liberate themselves from ingrained conditioning that tends to foster an aversion to this critical scrutiny. Embracing a more discerning perspective requires an acknowledgment that the consumption of artistic content is not merely a passive act but an interactive dialogue between the creator and the audience.
Naina is a sociology graduate of the Delhi School of Economics. She presently works as a writer focusing on queer theory, culture, media semantics, and women's health.