James Lewis Hoberman, more commonly referred to as J. Hoberman, was laid off as senior film critic of the Village Voice in 2012.  Hoberman is unquestionably one of the most influential critics of the last forty years. Once the news broke the Hoberman had been fired, the critical community erupted in outrage. Hoberman’s release seemed to point to a trend: respected, long-tenured film critic Todd McCarthy was let go from Variety just two years earlier. The Village Voice was not done making cuts after they parted ways with Hoberman, they shed one of New York’s best-known gossip columnists, Michael Musto, food critic Robert Sietsema, and theater critic Michael Feingold in 2013.

Undoubtedly, these changes were due in part to the cost-cutting new owners of the weekly newspaper, Phoenix-based New Times Media. But, this shocking firing points to a larger movement in film criticism. What led to Hoberman’s popularity and acclaim in the first place? How could a man that had excelled as lead critic since 1988 and had written for the Voice since 1978 meet such an unforeseen ending to a long and illustrious career?

Hoberman started writing at the Village Voice reviewing a film that would make a seasoned veteran sweat. He was tasked to write a review for David Lynch’s feature-length directorial debut, Eraserhead. Lynch’s masterpiece, which Stanley Kubrick once called his favorite film, is as bizarre as it is troubling. It is a nightmarish exploration of the life of Henry Spencer, who lives in an industrial dystopia with an inconsolable wife and a horribly disfigured child.

Hoberman’s debut showed an impressive stomach for a film that would take years to gain critical acceptance. The initial consensus around Eraserhead is summed up effectively by a quote from Variety, “A sickening bad taste exercise.”[1] But, Hoberman marveled at Lynch’s unique ability to express the grotesque through the dystopian setting he created. He commented “Their apartment looks like it was furnished by brain-eaters from the Night of the Living Dead,” and described Henry’s hometown as “a murky piece of post-nuclear guignol.”[2]

Hoberman’s critical voice is almost immediately evident in these quotations. Reading a Hoberman review feels like having a chat with a down-to earth, distinguished film professor over a beer. His prose is scholarly, there is no doubt about that. His succinct description of There Will Be Blood was, “an Old Testament story of cosmic comeuppance and filicidal madness-American history glimpsed through the smoke and fire that the lightning left behind.” But for every unpronounceable adjective that leaves the reader scratching their head, he also exudes a personality that is both intriguing and easily relatable. This relatability is often manifested through his quirky sense of humor, “Eraserhead’s not a movie I’d drop acid for, although I would consider it a revolutionary act if someone dropped a reel of it into the middle of Star Wars.”

Hoberman’s diction is original in a variety of ways. Although some words he may use could be classified as overly academic, they are not superfluous. Every word and sentence he writes advances his critique remarkably, without any fluff. His description of one of his favorite movies of 2003 reads, “Lost in Translation is a comedy of dislocation set in a metropolis that is itself spectacularly decentered. Bob more than once confronts his own disembodied image in the semiotic jungle of Japanese pop culture.” Hoberman’s sentences are concise and purposeful. Moreover, his adjectives are scholarly, but in context they are fairly easy to comprehend. More importantly, his work is simultaneously informative and analytical. From these two sentences, we are able to ascertain the essence of the narrative and gain insight into his interpretation of the film.

Reading his work is so enjoyable because of his impalpable ability to make language beautiful. The more he enjoys a film, the more elegant his writing becomes. In a review of one of his all-time favorites, Vertigo, he wrote, “A mystery that only improves with knowledge of its ‘solution,’ Vertigo is the ultimate movie—a movie that is, after all, concerned with being hopelessly, obsessively, fetishistically in love with an image.” Unlike many critics, Hoberman will boldly show his excitement about a particular film. He comments on his ability to consistently provide enthusiastic prose, “Some weeks, it’s an effort to have an opinion. I always look for some angle to cover a film. Once in a while, I’ll get angry at something and want to attack it. It’s more fun for me to write about something I like, but you don’t get that every week.”[3]

A Hoberman critique does not feel robotic; his writing is personal and emotional. Many critics’ professionalism prevents them from bluntly talking about how much they truly enjoy a movie. Hoberman is able relate to his readers because he is able to convey the raw, genuine thrill he gets from a good film. Movies are made to manipulate the emotions of the audience, and it is an unexpected relief to read a critic that has the same impassioned reaction as the average viewer.

Additionally, Hoberman shows a unique appreciation for history in his reviews. About three-quarters of his review of the documentary Fog of War was devoted to historical background about the films’ protagonist, former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara. He often describes the historical facets of the film he finds interesting and pertinent. His thorough research and keen insight adds to the audience’s depth of knowledge of the film’s background before they walk into the theater[4] He also is able to put movies that are not overtly historical in nature in their respective historical moments. For example, in his review of Terminator III, Rise of the Machines, he discusses how the Terminator character in the first two movies reflected the politics and policies of the Presidents in office when the film was released. The first film presents “a dystopian alternative to the Reaganite new morning,” while T2 was the first action movie advocating for world peace-a nod to George H.W. Bush’s New World Order.[5] These riffs are fascinating, but can be a bit exclusionary to less historically inclined readers. Nevertheless, Hoberman’s goal is to capture the time of a movie, regardless of if he enjoys the film or not. He describes the importance historical context in his work, “Well, I hope that it’s possible to tell which ones I think are better movies, but it’s more like looking at a continuum, and these movies take on an interest that’s not necessarily aesthetic.”[6]

In addition to Hoberman’s tendency to historicize, he is inclined to include explicit political commentary in his analysis. As one of his fellow critics, Graham Fuller, claims, “He has no peer in contextualizing movies socially, politically, and in terms of cinema history, or in analyzing news events.”[7]  This was especially evident in his writing during the Iraq War years. Hoberman frequently interwove his political opinions on American military intervention in the region into his critiques. One example is in his review of the docudrama DC 9/11, “If the Iraq war is integral to America’s transformation from republic to empire, then DC 9/11 is part of the process, described by Mark Crispin Miller as Bush’s ‘incarnation as America’s Augustus.’”[8] While many critics aim to write apolitically, he does not shy away from expressing his political views. The effects of this are twofold. First, if Hoberman wants to write honestly, with a distinct voice, he should write about his sincere interpretation of the film regardless of if it is political or not. Secondly, if film is inherently political, as Hoberman believes, why should he not be entitled to express his own political opinions? Hoberman strives to use movies to explain his outlook on our social and political condition as a society, so it only makes sense he would consider his political standpoint as an indispensable part of his writing.

So what the hell was the Village Voice thinking when they fired J. Hoberman? It seems inconceivable to part ways with a talented critic with such a significant following. One aspect of the Village Voice’s decision is the current state of criticism. Rotten Tomatoes has elevated a type of film critique that has existed in film since the days of Siskel and Ebert: thumbs up/ thumbs down criticism. Hoberman strove to present a sense of context and perspective, as opposed to merely expressing judgement. We live in an era of film suggestion, where lengthily criticism is becoming less and less valued. While some would like to know how Terminator III relates to conservatism in America during the 80’s and early 90’s, many more young people would rather just know if it worth seeing. The current moment values collective consensus, whether it be Yelp, Rotten, or Waze. Why would the long opinion of one intelligent critic hold more weight than the consensus of several critics? With short attention spans becoming so prominent in the technology age, Hoberman’s analysis does not seem to fit the mold.

Another reality that deemphasizes the role of a critic like Hoberman is the presence of conglomerates in the contemporary era of Hollywood. He wrote about the current state of film, “If the sixties and seventies brought a film culture of unprecedented plurality, the last twenty years have been characterized by increasing self-absorption… and a corresponding disinterest in other people’s movies.”[9] Gone are the days where the most expensive, profitable movies were made by auteurs that studied European art cinema like Francis Ford Coppola. Not to say that there are not talented directors in cinema today. Hoberman is more concerned with how the major studios spend their money, and it is not on movies like The Godfather and Apocalypse Now. Conglomerates like Time Warner and Disney are not just trying to sell movies, they want to sell stuff. This means toys, video games, and other products. A success for Time Warner and Disney does not mean they make the most critically acclaimed movie or even the most financially successful film, as long as the net sum of the stuff they sell for the movie results in a significant profit. This past year, Warner spent $410 million on Batman vs. Superman and $175 million on Suicide Squad. When Americans spend hundreds of millions of dollars to go see these films, it becomes more evident why a newspaper that is cutting costs may fire an expensive film critic that sees Terminator and David Cronenberg’s 2002 film Spider (he loved Spider), which grossed $5 million, as equally important commentaries on our times. Hoberman becomes an unnecessary expense if he is writing about a film that does not cares immensely more about selling stuff than about its critical reception. The 60’s and 70’s films used the opinions of criticis to tout the quality of their movies, but those days are no more. At a certain point, even distinguished arts papers need to turn a profit and acknowledge the films that are making money.

Additionally, the conglomeration of newspapers has threatened their artistic integrity. The New Times and dozens of other papers are owned by Voice Media group conglomerate. There is no doubt that big business bought out the Voice. Hoberman commented on the corporate takeover of the Village Voice, “The quality suffered and there were some atrocious firings, but things became immeasurably worse once New Times took over in 2006—that was like living under occupation, replete with periodic bloodbaths.”[10] The decline of printed news has threatened the voice of the journalist. When one of the premier film reviewers of the century claims that the corporate entity that bought a well-regarded newspaper made the work environment “like living under occupation,” it speaks volumes to the suffocation of the critic in the current state of printed journalism. The critic, like the artist, needs freedom in order to work more efficiently and creatively, and the sharp decline of independent newspapers has threatened their voice.

Hoberman passes the Mendelsohn test of meaningful judgement. He has developed a distinctive style of prose that expresses his unique taste, and uses his extensive knowledge of history and film history to contextualize each movie. The economic factors that drove one of America’s best critics to become a blogger are not subsiding. When an observer looks at the creeping presence of entertainment and fiction into what used to be informative, the critic seems doomed. It sounds cliche, but it is clear that our entertainment and news have become increasingly sensationalized in the last decade (fake news, Trump’s twitter, glitzy superhero films). I fear that the hatchet job film critic, Mendelsohn’s “monomaniacal controversialist,” will only increase in popularity. In a world that values shiny objects over substance, the hatchet job has a place at the table of criticism. Will our great social critics, the people that can use our art to teach us about our society, ever get back their platform to comment on our society? Or has America stopped listening?

 

[1] Hoberman, J. and Jonathon Rosenbaum. Midnight Movies. NY: Harper and Row, 1991.

[2] Winter, Jessica. “In Praise of Film Critic J. Hoberman.” Time. Time, n.d. Web. 09 Dec. 2016.

[3] Erickson, Steve. “Interview with J. Hoberman.” Senses of Cinema. N.p., 08 June 2011. Web. 08 Dec. 2016.

[4] Hoberman, J. Film after Film: Or, What Became of 21st Century Cinema? N.p.: Verso, 2013.

[5] Ibid

[6] Goldsmith, Leo. “An Interview with J. Hoberman.” An Interview with J. Hoberman. Not Coming to a Theater Near Year, 22 Apr. 2016. Web. 08 Dec. 2016.

[7] Fuller, Graham. “Why Would the Village Voice Fire J. Hoberman, New York’s Most Revered Film Critic?” Blouin Artinfo. N.p., n.d. Web.

[8] Hoberman, J. Film after Film: Or, What Became of 21st Century Cinema? N.p.: Verso, 2013.

[9] Hoberman, J. The Magic Hour: Film at Fin De Siecle. Philadelphia: Temple UP, 2003. Print.

[10] Peranson, Mike. “Film Criticism After Film Criticism: The J. Hoberman Affair – Cinema Scope.” Cinema Scope. N.p., 13 May 2012. Web. 09 Dec. 2016.