Reaction Shots: Pardon Muh French Connection
Plus the Across The Spider Verse Discourse is becoming really dumb.
Are cultural writers principled? The cynic in me and everyone who can’t stand them would say no, but the optimist in me also thinks that they can be better because they understand the thing more than this author ever will. For a while, whenever there’s an artistic controversy, it seems this profession, which guides you to the best and worst in pop culture, could mount to a defence for profound creativity, where censorship over a fear of a backlash is seen as incredibly consequential.
For those living under a rock, the latest is a scene in The French Connection that is removed from The Criterion Collection’s streaming service. In that scene, detectives “Popeye” Doyle (Gene Hackman) and Buddy “Cloud” Clouso share a conversation containing the n-word. The interaction was racist and we know because the film wants the viewer to think that these characters wish to profile people who are in on the case. The edit was first reported by Jeff Wells, the journalist behind the well-connected blog Hollywood Elsewhere and went viral after it was later spread by a Twitter account. But it was first heard about, once Disney owned 20th Century Studios, which distributed The French Connection, and you can hear it in the movie. It caused outrage among critics, but importantly, it created a conundrum to practically say that such an action is in poor taste. Sam Adams, a senior editor at Slate, summarises the overall response, but there is a key phrase that’s critical.
You know the part where carelords like to say ‘I’m for free speech, but…”? This is a variation of that, except it’s far more explicit and revealing. There’s a reluctance to stand up for a film they find genuinely great because it contradicts their worldview or the person holding that information is problematic. In the case of The French Connection, it’s the latter.
Jeff Wells has been a controversial figure in film culture for a long time. In 2021, he was expelled from the Critics Choice Association, after he made bizarre comments linking the Atlanta Spa shooting with Minari and Nomadland, both of which were Oscar contenders. As they were directed by Asian Americans, some people thought he was perpetuating racism against Asians (although his reasoning - that the massacre of four masseuses has little to do with racism - was correct, as there has been no evidence that this was the shooter’s motivation). Before that, he publicly slammed Mary Elizabeth Winstead in 2016 for her performance in 10 Cloverfield Lane, which Elijah Wood slammed. In 2015, he got in the crosshairs with Amy Schumer (an era where people thought she was certifiably funny) when he was lukewarm about her in Trainwreck and called her miscast because she was chubby. Wells also supports Donald Trump and complains about anything that is progressive. Every time he says anything, it’s a headline for Film Twitter and point fingers at him.
Glenn Kenny, who has been sparring with Jeff Wells for a long time, says that while the decision to censor that bit in the French Connection was wrong, he held back by pointing out Wells being the original source. To that, I add? So what? It’s bad to remove it because censorship is bad. What else can you change about that scene and is it even worth it to be up to date with modern norms?
The overall condemnation from these folks is conditioned, leaving the backlash to be incredibly muted. Not only do they say that the “bad people” will pounce upon this issue, but that another film, not The French Connection deserves that mark of shame. I can’t think of a term for when someone is not prepared to defend a set of actions, as all of a sudden, it violates whatever ethics they somehow hold. Because this is a trope among popular Film Twitter users, especially when they’re writers working under legacy media outlets, it has the effect of understating the problem and instead pointing to another ramification that has little relevance. It is not the mark of courage, but a wimpish act of cowardice in the name of preserving a specious ideology that they and their loyal readers hold.
I wrote how interesting the backlash against Hannah Gasdby is, years after the likes of Matt Zoller Seitz hailed her for being comedy’s future. Gasdby has been subjected to a takedown in The New York Times, slamming her critical exhibition of Pablo Picasso, but I focused on the reaction where to them, she’s suddenly sounding like a right-winger. This is part of the same issue, except this time, it’s someone that they were cheerleading for. I said this:
For them, it is a roundabout of semantics where the perfect becomes the imperfect and vice versa. First, the thing gets critically beloved for calling out as many ‘isms’ as possible. Then, the pushback from the non-intellectual crowd becomes louder, but is dismissed by its champions as ‘noise.’ Later, an enlightened minority on Twitter adds to the backlash by putting the product into the hands of the crowd, even if they have absolutely little in common. It is made with the pretence of stepping away from groupthink, even if it actually upholds it so that they don’t need to die on this particular hill.
There are no principled critics writing today, particularly when it comes to the stifling of creativity. Older works are given a stamp disclaimer, while newer works are shamed after they premiered at a film festival for seeming racist. The same people who will defend the former insist that “context must be emphasized” as if the people who were watching a controversial bit are brain-dead morons, are going to remain silent on the latter. But when they do call it out, it’s a streak of incoherent backpedalling to make sure that they’re still pure of heart and over complicate a simple act. Maybe the only principle they have is an aesthetic that makes for good art. But both are not the same thing.
Review: Across The Spider-Verse is Not A Culture War Grievance Machine
Across The Spider-Verse is a solid follow-up to Into the Spider-Verse, perhaps the best Western animated film of the past ten years and the greatest cinematic tale featuring Spider-Man. Into was mind-blowing, integrating many forms of media to make a unique form of animation. But its multiverse storytelling is a pretty subversive cheat, which, without its masterful execution, could have been an instant backfire. Whether it’s putting the black-Latino Miles Morales as THE Spider-Man instead of Peter Parker or the complicated logistics of the Spider-Verse, its numerous characters and the things that could tear that fabric apart. Across expands upon its magnitudes, giving Gwen Stacy (aka Spider-Gwen) a story arc from the beginning, and including variants such as Spider-Woman, Miguel O’Hara (aka Spider-Man 2099), Spider-Man India and the anti-fascist Spider-Punk. So the moral could be anyone, regardless of identity, can be Spider-Man, but from where the movie ends, can you even be more than Spider-Man as dictated by a canon of events?
Across the Spider-Verse inspired many takes, one of which involves Gwen Stacy being transgendered, with a “Protect Trans Kids’ sticker in her bedroom. Stacy’s world is painted in light blue and pink hues, which represent feminine colours. Neither the directors Joaquim Dos Santos, Justin K. Thompson, Kemp Powers nor Hailee Steinfeld have commented on this reading, but that’s a reading that Twitter users have in their own headcanon. It extends to the metaphor that Stacy’s transformation into Spider-Gwen is like transitioning into another gender.
But Across (and the Spider-Man franchise in general) is met with naive criticisms that it’s copaganda, which means that police officers in the series are supported, regardless of what horrible outcomes they put in. Miles Morale’s father is a police Captain; Gwen Stacey’s father is also in the force, while Hobie Brown is an ACAB pusher. On the other side of the aisle, the critique is that Peter B Parker, whose given less screentime here than in Into, is emasculated after becoming a father, while those variants that I just mentioned are not real Spider-Men, because they make snarky references to British colonialism. There is so much controversy that some people are willing to disconnect from it.
Enter the Podcast of the Lotus Eaters, a hard-right YouTube channel. They have a video called Hollywood Movies Are Not Made For You, with Across being the subject of contention, and it was recommended by the YouTube algorithm. My curiosity got the best of me because it turns out that for 25 minutes, neither presenter has actually seen the film, making justifications to not check it out because of the reasons that I mentioned above, and whining that Hollywood is way too progressive. Have the snowflakes always been in front of us?
I wrote a passionate defence of fandoms, in that it adds different, but profound meanings to the art they love. After all, a work of art does not come from a vacuum, and it belongs to both the artist and the culture that it cultivates. What I said in the piece was not to give license to any wish fulfilment unless it’s compatible with the themes of the story. However, this allows for the cultivation of a lucrative content machine catering to specific audiences more interested in doom and hope-mongering of their favourite things. One can bask in the cynical glories of being validated by being swayed that it’s being disrespected by cultural elites, or allow you the interpretation you want to make because someone somewhere in Across the Spider-Verse is an underdog. But worse is to pretend that the film does not do anything for you and commit to a Benedict Option away from mainstream cinema, where much of your beliefs are only shown to you and everybody else who thinks a lot like you.
You Must (Read) This: The Business of the Criterion Collection
I’m sharing one of the articles that I wrote for The Spectator World reporting on the business of the Criterion Collection, and what it means for a film to be truly restored:
The 4K restoration of certain films hasn’t made Criterion immune from criticism either. When Criterion re-released and released Wong Kar-wai’s In The Mood For Love and Bong Joon-ho’s Memories of Murder, respectively, both received a mixed response from devotees for de-emphasizing the warmer color palette of each film for a steely look, despite being approved by both filmmakers. For some, it’s no different than George Lucas altering certain scenes in the original Star Wars trilogy. This speaks to the ethical crossroads of digital restoration. It could make someone’s memory of experiencing these films vastly different to that of others who have now been exposed to the film for the first time. Paolo Cherchi Usai, a film curator from the George Eastman House, says that Criterion needs to maintain its commercial relationships, such an effort to ensure that the images and sounds are as sharp and crisp could be shattered if someone noticed that the application of digital technology isn’t properly restored. “Viewers should be aware that digital restoration, no matter how responsible and accurate, is a work of fiction,” he tells me.
The Kino Around the Corner: The World’s End (2013)
The final instalment of Edgar Wright’s Cornetto Trilogy (named after the Three Colors trilogy based on the coloured flavour of ice cream), The World’s End is surprisingly poignant in depicting nostalgia, and how ultimately at the end of the day, people will have to accept that however you contribute to society, you do you. Simon Pegg plays Gary, an alcoholic desperate to complete a pub crawl with his high school friends in their hometown. Nick Frost plays an uptight, stern bureaucrat who had enough of his antics, typically opposite to being the goofy sidekick to Pegg’s straight man. But something’s rotten in the small town of Newton Haven where everyone is acting… in a proper manner. And it makes for a really bumpy pub crawl, where childhood friends wrestle with their inner demons, particularly Gary, a lovable asshole who thinks completing that pub crawl, in spite of his treatment towards others, will save the day. Oscar Wilde famously said that “the tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one is young.” The World’s End and its hero Gary is the walking equivalent of that quote.