MAILBOX

This Week: Our 20th Anniversary issue reveals unresolved issues; and Armond’s finicky fan club speaks up.

Former Press Editor Speaks Out
I have not been, and would not be, associated with the New York Press since the pigfuckers who bought it from Russ Smith unceremoniously canned me, via a phone call from a flunky, two days before Christmas 2002. Merry Xmas, Mr. Strausbaugh, and rots a ruck. So I was surprised to see my name on the cover of the “20th Anniversary” issue (April 23-28). The roll call of fallen heroes on the cover clearly suggests we all had something to do with this issue, when obviously most of us did not, and a lot of us definitely would not. I’m guessing you meant it as a nod to the paper’s golden age, but it looks like you’re glomming on to a legacy to which you have no claim. There’s NYP 1988-2002, and then there’s whatever it’s been since. And that’s not just me gassing about the good old days. If you limited that roll call to people who came to the paper after 2002 there’d be... let’s see... four names. And the list of those who were associated with the paper 1988-2002 could have been vastly expanded (off the top of my head: Taki, Alexander Cockburn, Norah Vincent, Michael Gentile, Mimi Kramer, George Tabb, Celia Farber, Lionel Tiger, Alan Cabal, David Sedaris, JT Leroy, Danny Hellman, Christopher Caldwell, Dave Eggers, Jennifer Blowdryer, Lucian Truscott IV, Ted Castle, Takeshi Tadatsu, Michaelangelo Signorile, and let us not forget Claus von Bulow, among many, many others).

Armond’s having written half the issue notwithstanding, the pretense that there’s an unbroken timeline connecting the original New York Press to the current version is misleading and disingenuous at best. Using my name to front for this fantasy was, unintentionally I’m sure, kind of an insult.
—John Strausbaugh, Brooklyn

Secrets & Lies
Your [20th Anniversary] issue is profoundly deceptive. As a regular contributor to NY Press (on and off) who worked with editors Strausbaugh and Koyen, and as a friend of Strausbaugh for 14 years, I am well aware of certain elemental and indisputable facts of the paper’s history—most glaringly that John Strausbaugh was fired.

What possessed you to state the history of 2002 as, “John Strausbaugh leaves the paper to become a full-time author,” when you are well aware this is a lie?

I have no idea whether this 2002 firing is something John wishes to be remembered for or not, but I doubt you lied to appease his feelings, since his feelings meant absolutely nothing at the time he was abruptly and inexplicably fired.

Whoever had the brilliant idea to axe John can perhaps now see a clear curve that goes from the Press being a great paper, when he was editor, to the Press being a soggy bore. By firing John, you lost the magic recipe.
As you seem to concede on the cover page, where you deceptively list the Press’ past stars as if they had each contributed pieces—virtually all of them were cultivated by John and Russ. None of them will have anything to do with the Press because they were all given The Treatment that the Press seems to reserve for its talent: Either random firing or gradual debasement (or both). If you want to run a great paper, try not firing all the talent. Or, if it was your predecessors who were at fault, then get on your hands and knees and try to bring the squandered talent back.
—Celia Farber, NYC

Vizzini Vision
I’m a longtime reader, and as a geezer/fan of the good old days, I greatly appreciated the timeline you published by way of commemorating 20 years of the New York Press. However, as such a geezer/fan, I must point out a small error: It was not John Strausbaugh who discovered Ned Vizzini, it was Sam Sifton, as evidenced by these two interviews with Ned. I doubt Sifton is losing sleep over the error, or that Strausbaugh is celebrating, but as long as there is going to be a record, let’s keep it straight.
—Brent Cox, Brooklyn

Hates a Strong Word
Finally, Armond White exposes himself as the infuriatingly narrow-minded movie Nazi that he is. In his article “What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Movies” (April 23-28), he makes it perfectly clear that he hates art (especially “art for art’s sake”), hates any kind of political discourse (that dares to criticize the Bush administration!), hates “cynical” world views (because they don’t uplift the human race), hates “mumblecore” (because it’s all about middle-class white kids), hates personal opinions (that don’t agree with his), hates movie critics (who actually like to watch movies), hates niche filmmaking (when it’s not his niche), hates audiences (who don’t know what’s good for them) and basically hates everyone who isn’t Armond White (or Steven Spielberg.)

He has such specific ideas of what movies should be—and what political purposes they should serve—that he reminds me of the Soviet propagandists of the past who demanded party-line product with state-approved messages for the masses. He sneers at “art for art’s sake” because he can’t stand personal creativity or individual freedom. His reductive emphasis of politics over art explains why he loves such TV-movie-like treacle as World Trade Center and Amistad. He also has no sense of humor, no affection for filmmaking and no patience for artists or audiences who don’t agree with him. He accuses Hollywood of being elitist, and yet—with his pompous vocabulary and condescending attitude—he’s the biggest elitist of all!

White needs to realize that some of us actually enjoy being exposed to a variety of ideas and perspectives different than our own. It’s why we go to the movies. All I ask (of any form of art) is that the artist convey his or her own unique vision, whether it’s nihilist or one-sided or pretentious or syrupy sweet. Every movie doesn’t have to be humanist and uplifting. Think how boring that would be!

Still, I have to admit: I never miss reading Armond White’s reviews. He’s the critic I love to hate. Sometimes, he makes my blood boil; other times, I actually agree with him. Either way, when it comes to expressing a strong point of view, there’s no critic like him. (See? Some of us really do welcome different opinions.) Keep up the good work!
—Richard Surmacz

More Challenges
I wanted to thank Armond White for writing what shall be the most important film essay this year (and of the past 10 years, for that matter). I’m sure you will get the regular bloggers and critics sending you hate mail, and I’m sure that in less than eight hours there will be an online movement against you, but please know that there are film lovers out here that consider you to be the greatest critical mind of our time.

Honestly, your opinion is the ONLY ONE that challenges me on a weekly basis. That should reinforce the points you made in your essay. Please continue your brilliant work (your collection Resistance is one of my bibles).
—Mark Osborn, Austin, Texas

P.S. Thank you for introducing me to the films of Julian Hernandez. If you didn’t have a column, I would have never heard of him, Broken Sky or A Thousand Clouds of Peace.