In Bed with Hollywood.

At their meeting, Circle members argued specious ad hominem politics and voted to make an official statement against Valenti’s Sept. 3 proposal to restrict film companies from giving away video tapes and DVDs (perversely called "screeners") during the Oscar awards season. To an outside observer, Valenti’s edict seems a sensible effort to protect the industry (an industry he was appointed to serve) against–among other things–illegal copying and piracy, as many Academy "screeners" have been improperly sold, even traded, on eBay.

Critics repeatedly make Valenti their convenient punching bag. The last such debacle concerned the R rating the MPAA gave Eyes Wide Shut. Instead of rationally considering Valenti’s proposals, the critics took personal objection, as if Valenti had adversely effected their own profession.

Their current fantasy is born of the current lunatic notion that film journalists are part of the movie industry, rather than unbiased reporters, commentators, watchdogs. You know, critics. When the NYFCC was founded in 1935, the first paragraph of its bylaws (re-ratified in 2002) stated that the organization was to maintain impartiality. Although this point was reiterated, the Valenti-bashers gave a collective "Huh?" until one member resumed the fantasy–"I think we really need to make this statement." The drive to interfere in Hollywood’s business seemed to satisfy a primal desire to become Hollywood.

Witnessing this debacle in person confirmed the collusion that has gradually been taking place in the Entertainment Industry Complex. What may have started as corporate monopolizing when Reagan eased restrictions on trusts (reversing the historic 1948 Supreme Court Paramount Anti-trust Decree, thus allowing modern conglomerates to own and control the production, distribution and exhibition cycle) is now nothing less than a moral reversal. It has reached into the hearts and minds of critics who today feel it is their duty to cheerlead for the industry. At the precedent-setting New York Times, this complicity is a regular practice and it’s what has made criticism virtually impossible, practically obsolete.

On the very morning of the New York Film Critics Circle’s Oct. 17 confab, the Times ran an editorial chiding Valenti. No wonder the sheep sleepwalked toward the cliffs of their profession. It sets a new standard of journalistic partiality to make official editorial page statements on private industry negotiations. The Times was misinformed–and was thus misinforming–about the issues at stake in the Valenti screeners matter. The same misinformation confused many Circle members, creating a curious bias.

Although Valenti stands for the best interests of his industry, his opponents stand in the interests of corruption and greed. Right now the entertainment industry is such a bulwark of American capitalism that it literally pays to be in cahoots with it–not necessarily be an actual employee, but simply to be in Hollywood’s thrall, to further propagate its product and faithfully idolize its most prominent figures.

(Where would pop media be for the past ten years without those logos on four legs–Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman? They’re inadequate actors but recognizable brand names to which almost every magazine and newspaper editor in the country pledges allegiance.)

Critics may not consciously collude with the industry, but within their naivete lay the root of media power, corruption and lies. That Times editorial was clearly printed in the spirit of collusion; it expressed the ignorance of many people by distorting the screeners matter into an artists’ rights cause. The same absurdity was spoken at the Circle meeting when one booster feared, "This could badly impact on which movies get made in the future"–almost parroting the Times’ bullcrap paranoia: "Films from more independent studios, or edgier films in general, could be hurt most."

No critics’ group statement can seriously affect which movies get made in the future. To think so is a bizarre delusion of power–especially in this age when there are so many critics/pundits/columnists that no critics have power divorced from advertising. (We give our opinions in hope, sometimes in vain.) It is not a critic’s job to arrange for film financing and production. Critics must simply respond to the work before them, not pay attention to Hollywood gossip or participate in industry skirmishes.

Cultural journalism has steadily been weakened in the Tina Brown era, with publicists garnering more media control and journalists being manipulated by publicists as never before. This is the unspoken truth behind the Times weighing in on the screeners "controversy." It confirms publicists’ current antipathy (contempt?) toward journalists. They use the media–and even its editorial pages–to sell product and promote filmmakers’ egos. Contemporary journalists are so naive about their professional mandate and social responsibility that they feel obligated to stroke the industry, cowering before publicists who hold the right to admit them into screenings, parties and gift them with swag. As today’s DVD revolution crests, screeners (especially those arriving during the holiday season) are the choicest swag of all.

Fact: After Valenti announced the MPAA’s ban on screeners, a film publicist emailed numerous critics and critics’ groups, suggesting they respond to Valenti–as if the ban inhibited their work, affecting the job of seeing and reviewing movies on a periodic basis. That publicist’s real concern was, of course, the private client list. The MPAA’s restriction of screeners threatened to crimp promotional campaigns for movie awards–and awards season is already underway.

Fact: Playing along, the chairmen of the New York Film Critics Circle and the National Society of Film Critics reacted immediately–whether to the publicist or Valenti, their response was too quick to make clear. Neither chairperson saw fit to demur, but each man properly canvassed for group-member opinions.

It is unfortunate that critics were dragged into a fight not their own, yet the publicist’s shrewd appeal to their vanity was damn near irresistible. The subtle suggestion was that awards giving was the essence of critical practice; and nothing flatters the profession of lowly scribes more than the glamorous attention they get at year’s end from Hollywoodians who normally disdain them. That’s what makes them feel like a part of Hollywood. While pretending to be detached, they’re joined at the hype.

At the Circle meeting, Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly worried about the group being sucked into the annual Oscar derby. His good reasoning was that critics’ awards would then seem subordinate to the Oscars. But Gleiberman and Circle Chairman Andrew Johnston’s appeals for caution went unheeded. Group members were already infected by that Times editorial and the silly hope they could save independent film production simply by demanding freebies.

A week before the Circle vote, a crucial op-ed by Fox Searchlight chairman Tom Rothman appeared in Variety. He answered the rampant, specious claim that Valenti was heading an attempt to deny the small indie film of awards. Rothman argued as "patently absurd" the "‘big studio conspiracy theory’ currently being stoked by those unhappy with the prospect of going to movie theaters like regular folk. All the studios now have specialized units... That’s some ridiculous conspiracy, when the conspirators would be conspiring against themselves!"

Still, publicists for filmmakers and actors stirred up enough paranoia–and obtuseness–that the daily press is full of the most puerile alarums. At base, it comes down to a shabby display of greed. Everyone’s fiending for DVDs. Publicists and artists are bucking for prizes. They want personal acclaim–not lower ticket prices to attract more viewers, not improved theater conditions for maximum presentation, not even more serious film criticism. They want praise–which they cravenly think translates into money. And money, they feel, is all that criticism–and media attention–is worth.

Critics, sadly, concur.

With the Circle’s accord, the demise of journalistic integrity is complete. More shameless than the groveling for Oscars was a Variety article on Oct. 15 that dutifully reported ravings from the indie community–grousers who apparently had not read Rothman’s clear, calming logic. Rather than balance the issue, Variety’s reporters buried the news about the studio executives (from Skywalker ranch to DreamWorks) who fearlessly, if quietly, agree with Valenti’s plan. (They believe, as once did real critics, that movies should be seen–and judged–at the movies.) Instead, Variety extended its own bias through a story angle that tried to intimidate Steven Soderbergh (who has so far resisted commenting on "screeners") into joining the sheep parade.

Because movie journalism is the only thing that stands between the public and advertising, the only thing giving people space and encouragement to think for themselves, this acquiescence signals the true end of independence. When I joined the NYFCC in 1987, and when I chaired it in 1994, my seldom-realized hope was that we would recognize movie achievements that didn’t conform to the marketplace. Or, ones that created a worthwhile artistic standard not yet recognized by the masses.

Sometimes that happened. The group honored Jean-Luc Godard’s career, awarded Harry Belafonte’s performance in Altman’s Kansas City, voted a special prize to the re-release of Jacques Demy’s Lola and Bay of Angels and cited the screenplay of Alexander Payne’s Election. These choices stand regardless of fashion, they stand against the conformity and rotten taste that the Oscars represent.

Throughout its 60-plus-year history, the Circle honorably made its awards without benefit of screeners–which is to say, without industry consent. (In 1996 the indie distributor of Kansas City refused to provide screeners simply because it didn’t consider the film commercially viable. Luckily critics had already seen Kansas City on the big screen in a glorious silver-retention print.) The Circle’s impartial stance against such industry thinking not only honored the group’s creed but, more importantly, helped create a singular atmosphere and distinctive criteria for film culture to follow. Too much concern with awards diminishes the worth of criticism–and that’s what the screeners issue comes down to: It damages film culture by emphasizing things that don’t matter.

At a point during the hectic debate over an official statement, Entertainment Weekly’s Lisa Schwarzbaum responded to my skepticism by rising from her seat with the full arrogance of Time Warner hoisting her up. She declared, "In the real world the Oscars matter!" (Since I, for one, don’t reside in the Oscarville zipcode, I handed back an obscenity.) Schwartzbaum’s delusion–no doubt shared by many critics in the room–is sustained by salary and a general unseriousness. Editors resist hiring esthetes; they favor boosters.

I understand Schwartzbaum’s indignation. For Entertainment Weekly to exist, its minions must believe in commercialism. Schwartzbaum presented herself as the masthead of a movement among middle-echelon, middle-brow journalists who value pop commerce and celebrity over everything and who have wrecked the currents of film culture.

My own interest in film and film journalism was emboldened by the example of essayists like Robert Warshow, Gilbert Seldes, James Agee, Sarris and Kael who understood they had an obligation to report on the arts, not service the industry. The latter was a given–with limits. It didn’t cost one’s integrity or impartiality. Today’s media culture is unable to make such fine distinctions.

("You’re being rather elegant about this," Schwartzbaum said to me. "I’m being principled," I answered.)

If the Oscars do, indeed, matter, what of such substantive things ignored by the Oscars every year, such as faith (E.T. vs. Gandhi), politics (Do the Right Thing vs. Driving Miss Daisy), society (George Washington vs. Gladiator), sex (Wild Reeds vs. Braveheart), history (Amistad vs. Titanic) and art (Femme Fatale vs. Chicago)? What matters is good journalism. Without it, we’re left defenseless against a mercenary industry that simply wants to adorn itself with trinkets. Journalism then becomes a tool of the already-too-powerful. Worse than Orwellian, it’s Schwartzbaumian–accepting the supplication to power and fame as a natural way of life.

Critics should stand up, but they should stand up for right. Before the Circle meeting started, one member came in fuming because the previous night he had been body-searched–wanded and patted-down–before being allowed to enter a designated critic’s screening. More proof of publicists’ contempt. Although this now-common indignity (a practice Jack Valenti has not endorsed) made him grumble, he said nothing about it during the meeting. Instead, he insisted, "I think we really need to make this [screeners] statement."

It’s difficult to fathom this degree of self-abasement that prioritizes film industry pique over one’s own peace of mind. Hollywood myth says journalists are valiant. Recent history says that film critics are shills.

Hidden Agenda

The president of the Motion Picture Association of America, Jack Valenti, is an honorable business politician. But there’s a credible suspicion that his screener ban is, in fact, a smokescreen for a problem that really upsets Hollywood.

Piracy is a lesser worry to the major studio heads than the fact that they are constantly beaten by Harvey Weinstein and Miramax’s army of publicists who use screeners as a tool. No intelligent person really thinks The English Patient, Shakespeare in Love, Chocolat, Cider House Rules, In the Bedroom or Chicago are good movies, but Miramax’s hype for its mediocre product is damn near invincible.

Some hope that a side result of Valenti’s anti-piracy ban on screeners will curtail the effectiveness of Miramax’s blatant Oscar campaigning. But Miramax knows something no one is willing to admit: advertising and buzz are more powerful than the non-rigorous criticism we have today, more important than the movies themselves. Weinstein knows that if you can arrange for the media to bombard the public with gibberish about even a bad movie it will wipe the competition out of the public mind. It will wipe out all standards besides the nebulous "Oscar-worthiness." He’s been proven right year after year.

Weinstein is not to blame for promoting his interests any more than Valenti is. It’s the journalists, Oscar voters and the public who are the suckers. They won’t admit their own lack of standards and susceptibility to hype. The Times hasn’t noticed that truly small and edgy films (Circuit, George Washington, Office Space) never get Oscar nominations.

The Wall Street Journal reports that film attendance is down three percent and everyone accepts that theatrical showings are simply a front-end business for the home-video and DVD trade that Hollywood really cares about. The most shameful fact: Most movies deemed "Oscar-worthy," such as Sundance rubbish, aren’t worth seeing on the big screen anyway. No one wants to admit that most contemporary films lack compositional (i.e., cinematic) skills. Why should Oscar voters–or critics–get off their asses and go to a theater to actually watch these movies?