Pauline Kael, the iconoclastic critic of movies (she
disdained the term "films" as too pretentious) died
September 3 at age 82. She has been credited with
revolutionizing the ways that movies are seen and in
many cases, made. Though Kael stopped writing reviews
for The New Yorker in 1991, when the world wide
web was still in its infancy, her influence as a
critic and writer continues today.
And her writing style -- intimate, direct, and
provocative -- might serve as a model for those of us
who compose for the web. Rereading Hooked,
Kael's collection of reviews from 1985-1987, I am
struck by how much of her writing unfolds like
well-crafted e-mail messages. Kael's reactions to
movies, whether they enthralled, angered, or bored her
to tears, are captured in candid, idiomatic, and
immediate language.
Take, for example, her description of Jack Nicholson
in 1987's The Witches of Eastwick, which
immediately stirs up memories of the 1980s, pre-Joker
incarnation of the actor (before he became a
self-parody). Nicholson, Kael writes, "snuffles and
snorts like a hog, and he talks in a growl... he has
half-closed priggish, insinuating eyes, and his big,
shaggy head doesn't look as if it belonged on those
small, fleshy shoulders... He seems to have given more
attention to assembling his flowing brocade robes than
he ever gave to assembling his body. He's so
repulsive, he's funny" (Hooked, 323-324). Her
portrayal is vivid and wicked, broad and yet dead-on.
It is also provocative.
While many writers today still write for print
publications, much of their work has been reincarnated
in a new and arguably more potent form on the web,
sparking daily praise and outrage across online chat
forums from readers the world over. Likewise, reading
Hooked made me to want to contact Kael and
sound off on the movies she'd reviewed, as well as on
the reviews themselves. And she welcomed feedback. As
noted by Peter Biskind in his book, Easy Riders,
Raging Bulls, the grande dame was an "activist
critic" who enjoyed fraternizing with other
movie-lovers as well as movie-makers, including Warren
Beatty, Barbra Streisand, Martin Scorcese, and Steven
Spielberg. Such luminaries were keenly aware of the
effect that her immediate, visceral responses to their
work had on their careers. Paul Schrader, who wrote
the screenplay for Taxi Driver, among other
films, credited Kael with "pluck[ing] him out of
nowhere" (Biskind, p. 290). Conversely, one former
president of the Academy of Arts and Sciences, whose
movies Kael had panned, reportedly called her a
"miserable bitch."
Perhaps the greatest indication of Kael's impact on the movie industry lay in its repeated attempts to lure her over to its side. Indeed, Paramount Pictures
succeeded in snatching her up briefly as a production
consultant in the late 1970s. But Kael ultimately
returned to her domain at the New Yorker, where
she continued to exact immediate, visceral responses
from her readers and subjects alike. During her
40-year career, she wrote an enough reviews to fill 11
volumes.
Many of her book titles use overt double entendres:
I Lost it at the Movies, Kiss Kiss Bang
Bang, Deeper into Movies, Taking It All
In, and When the Lights Go Down. When her
first books came out in the early 1970s, her high-brow
detractors said that such blithe sexual references had
no place on the pages of serious critical texts.
Perhaps Kael's marriage of off-color humor and
on-target commentary would have found a better forum
through a DSL hookup. Her work always reflected what
critic Mark Feeney of the Boston Globe aptly
describes as her "deeper connection to both medium and
readership."