Another critic bites the dust

Hooray free time!

Really, though, what else is there to say? I've been canned. At least from movie reviews. In this crap market, in this shit newspaper era, in this colon-reaming bout of dysentery we call an economy, what room do newspapers have for movie critics? The answer: none. And that's why critics across the country are getting pink slips, buyouts or, like me, restructured beat lists. Even Roger Ebert's long-running show was given the boot for something a third as intelligent, thus five times more sellable to a TV-watching America. If Ebert's not safe, and big-name critics at big-name papers in big-name cities aren't safe, then what hope does little Michael Clawson of the community weekly the West Valley View have? Apparently some, although that's now fading … for now. Frankly, I'm surprised I was allowed to write movie reviews through the summer.

So here's the skinny: I was told that my movie reviews would no longer be needed until ad revenue increases and page counts go up. It sucks, but I'm just grateful I still have a job (I'm also a photog and I write Volume). The movies aren't gone completely, though: reviews of "big movies" are allowed. The logic of that single instruction should make most movie critics chuckle. Hmmm, big movies … Transformers is a big movie, but it's also one of the most mindless movies ever created, too. And No Country For Old Men is a classic, but clearly not a big movie, even if it did win the Best Picture Oscar. But I get what the bosses are saying: review the movies that most of America is going to show up to see. Why give space to a movie that, yes, will win Academy Awards and be on year-end Top 10 lists, but won't be seen by 97 percent of the movie-going public?

I'm taking this news remarkably well: No anger. No hatred. No frustration. This time of year helps. The first review I didn't have to write was Death Race ... hallelujah! Had it been Wall•E or The Dark Knight I would have sobbed at my desk. How can I be mad, though? Yeah, it's miserable that the movie section I built up over eight years has been shelved, but if no movies is my sacrifice to my paper then so be it. I've read that when a person is submerged in freezing water their body senses the temperature change and, in a defensive move, begins shutting off circulation to expendable parts of the body. Heart rate slows, fingers and toes go numb, breathing slows, but the body is trying to right itself, or at least weather through the storm. I love movies to death, but I'm not afraid to admit that movie reviews are fingers and toes — expendable.

America has too little film analysis and genuine critique, two things I've always strived for in my writing; reviews are too often random commentary about the stars' nip-slips and what they wore on the red carpet at the premier. There will be a time when I can once again offer film analysis in the West Valley View. My days aren't over. To quote Ahhnold: "I'll be back." In the meantime, as many reviews as I can do will be posted here. And look for other features as well. I'll weather this storm and when I'm back in print I'll be better than ever.