Retro Rebeller: What Movie Magazines Meant
If you're into film, magazines were one way to nurture your diet.
Welcome to another instalment of Retro Rebeller, a feature in which I present articles that I previously wrote for Rebeller Media, a former online outfit dedicated to movies. These articles were paywalled, and so I am letting this free for anyone to read. If you like to support this newsletter or access any pieces that I have paywalled, subscribe now.
I first wrote about it at the beginning of the pandemic, among many other articles, but I wrote it in the wake of Film Comment closing its pages down (they have since turned into a newsletter). I’m releasing this in the wake of the latest Sight and Sound poll, announced last week, and it sparked a lot of discussions. Look out for that one because I have many thoughts about it. I am certainly most proud of this one because it combines two hobbies of mine: movies and magazines. Combine them both and you’ll get a bulk of pages that are devoted to movies. They were important then, but with the dire state of print, it’s pretty clear that they are the victim of ideological groupthink that manifested in cinephilia. Still, I think that magazines like Sight and Sound and Empire play a substantial role in cultivating the intellect of the movie fan, allowing them a window into how to approach filmmaking, both practically and theoretically. I hope you enjoy it, as much as I did writing about it.
While they are exempt from Australia’s lockdown, I rushed to a nearby newsagent back in March to see if there were any magazines I would buy before they could even close. Two magazines that I purchased -Little White Lies and Film Comment - couldn’t be more sophisticated, compared to the other movie mags on the same end of the aisle. (There are very few film periodicals published down under). I read Little White Lies on the bus, which would usually devote half of its issue to its cover film (in this case, Terrence Malick’s A Hidden Life) with many accompanying illustrations, before proceeding with general reviews and interviews. They say “enjoy it while it lasts.” Hence the ride on my way home, secluded in social isolation, would be a cherished memory.
Around the same month, the Film Society of Lincoln Centre in New York City announced an indefinite hiatus of its bimonthly magazine Film Comment with its May/June Edition probably being its last issue. Given that no one could bring themselves to visit a newsagent at this time, it will be digitally distributed, amid numerous layoffs of its staffers. It’s not the only magazine whose outlook seems bleak. Weeks ago before the pandemic hit, the French magazine Cahiers Du Cinema saw walkouts of its staff writers, as they saw new owners interfering with their content, fearing that its serious criticism would turn into a lifestyle magazine.
Film periodicals have a substantial influence on their culture and the way we talk about the medium. Throughout its history, Film Comment allowed writers to take music videos seriously as a cinematic form, corresponding with the malleability of technology like VHS. They’ve highlighted LGBT representation and lit up curious discussions, debating auteur theory, canons and the Thumbs Up/Thumbs Down approach popularized by Siskel and Ebert. Cahiers was a launching pad for Francois Truffaut and Jean Luc Godard who would then go on to bring the French New Wave. Without the magazine, there wouldn’t be The 400 Blows. Without the French New Wave, there wouldn’t be New Hollywood.
The functions are also significant. Besides its history, Film Comment serves a role in devoting its content to the career of filmmakers, emerging or otherwise. (Even directors like Quentin Tarantino and Martin Scorsese have contributed essays.) Not only does the Film Society hold the New York Film Festival, one of the major ones across the world, but it introduced us to directors who went on to be influential voices in the cinematic landscape. The list is endless, but it includes Martin Scorsese, Richard Linklater, Christopher Nolan and Darren Aronovsky. Meanwhile, Cahiers is an eclectic bunch, primarily focused on film theory and the future of cinema. It is also unpredictable. As I note in an essay about Joker being more liked in Europe, it placed the film in its list of best movies of 2019 over The Irishman, being hailed as an offset to the homogeneous aesthetic of Disney/Marvel. And this makes for striking yet serious content that film nerds would crave.
When I started watching movies regularly, I would buy issues of Empire Magazine. In each edition, they have a range of content, from reviews, interviews, behind-the-scenes looks of upcoming blockbusters, and as a bonus, posters that you hang on your bedroom wall. Then there are the special editions of movies listed as the best movies of all time, which serve as a guide to understanding the medium. Empire would rank Citizen Kane, The Empire Strikes Back, The Dark Knight and The Godfather very highly, while Sight and Sound, the magazine from the British Film Institute, places a movie like Vertigo as the greatest movie ever made, instead of the status quo’s choice Citizen Kane. After all, it shows that film commentary is very subjective in nature.
I am a Luddite who owns many magazines ranging not just on film, but politics, business and even porn, big and small. So feel free to take a grain of salt when I say that there are some greater benefits to reading print over digital. For one, they are a great indicator of curation, selecting the best articles and essays to represent their issue. You won’t have to worry about algorithms shoving headlines down your throat like “Here’s What Jon Hamm Has To Say About The Stimulus Package” or “The Unbearable Neoliberalism of Crazy Rich Asians.” It makes sure that your reading is less noisy and more intimate. As Andrew Ferguson notes in The Atlantic, “it is a special world, an invented world, and here is the key to its charm: It is pleasingly static, momentarily a settled matter.”
Film journalism is following the contractions that are challenging the broader field worldwide. So, it’s no different when these journals need to sustain themselves from a large company or founder and be stuck on the receiving end, whether it’d be by overzealous personalities or a pandemic. Naysayers can feel free not to care about the closure of print. After all, the majority of readers are mainly online, and sometimes the pompously woke editorialisation of publications can be a huge turn-off. Putting exceptionalism aside, it should be mentioned that magazines aren’t that easy to run. They’re collaborative efforts filled with editors, writers and designers, who need to find innovative ways to maintain themselves from the downpouring tide. Seeking advertisers that are vulnerable to market shock, and steady circulation would not be enough to ensure contributors are adequately paid.
Print magazines have always felt like a luxury, and for cerebral types, they are the equivalent of a newly issued comic book. The general norm for print and media writ large is that a loyal audience, mainly from subscribers, is important for survival. As I don’t subscribe to a lot of outlets, visiting a newsagent and purchasing an issue shows some substantial support. If movie theatres can suffer through an invisible virus, publications would bear more damage, culminating in the larger factors against them. These institutions can show their age but are foundational to a culture. The best way to approach this is not with overwhelming doom, but through learning new ways to keep it. And it will start beyond reading for free.