MEDIUM MUSINGS
APR 13, 2008 – A FEW GOOD MEN LAST WEEK – and I include myself in that sweeping generalisation – ended up discussing my career, specifically the aspect of being a film critic in this age of the Internet. The second the topic came up, I made my usual whiny noises about how I hate to be called a film “critic,” and the only reason I allow myself to be called one is that it fits better on my business card than “the person who watches a movie, typically once, and puts down his thoughts, his impressions, without necessarily intending these thoughts and impressions to be a cue for the reader to go see (or not go, not see) the work under question.” But before I continue, let me explain what triggered this discussion. It was the fact that David Ansen, film critic at Newsweek, had accepted a buyout. And before that, Nathan Lee, of the Village Voice, was laid off. And before that, a whole bunch of others, for apparent “economic reasons” – but the real reason, according to the slew of analyses on the Web, is, well, the Web itself. With so many bloggers having turned into guerrilla film critics – strictly in the sense of not belonging to the establishment; quality-wise, there are as many great blogger-critics as there are terrible print-critics – the newspapers appear to be questioning the need to pay someone for a function that’s becoming increasingly irrelevant.
Anyway – or does current usage tend towards “anyways?” – that’s what got us started. By the time we ended, the only thing we took away is that we’re living in interesting times – because if you look at it, there are blogs that cover politics and food and fashion and lifestyle and sports and whatever else you’d find in a typical newspaper, so what’s stopping the paper from firing those that cover these other beats? Why have a print edition at all? Why not simply migrate to the Web and be a presence there, hiring the writers of the most popular blogs, either full-time or as free-lance contributors? Even in my case, I have little doubt that most of my readership comes through my blog, which is where my reviews and my other writings are stored. And the great thing about being a blogger – or, like me, a storer of print pieces on a blog – is that your readers talk back to you. This isn’t just about getting superlatives that say how good your review is, or snarky bile about how your views about the film couldn’t be further apart from the reader’s – though, that sort of information is always good to have.
The real advantage of being a presence on the Web, I feel, is that your story keeps evolving. When you submit something for print, you’ve just about managed to crawl under the deadline wire, and the piece, when published, instantly becomes a frozen fossil, ready to be excavated and flung in your face at any given moment. You can’t take back something you said, or rewrite something you’ve not quite written the way you wanted to, or, in the case of a movie, you can’t revisit it in your head and arrive at a different set of blogical conclusions. And all of that is possible in cyberia. Once the review goes up on my site, it’s endlessly fascinating to see how readers view it. It’s something to consider, that my subjective reading of a film (or a piece of music) is now available for my readers’ subjective reading (of my piece). They may be perfectly in sync with what I wanted to say, or they may take away something I never intended – but that’s what’s good about it. The piece I wrote is no longer a static entity. It’s evolving with everyone who cares to respond, with my responses to those responses, to their responses to my responses of their original responses…
This interactivity allows me to be blindsided by, say, something that never occurred to me, something that a reader pointed out, and in the process, you discover as much about yourself – the way you looked at the film, the way you look at things in general – as the movie in question. It’s part communication, part counselling. This isn’t possible in print, but then the argument for print – and for retaining my services; please, Ed., please – is simply that, at least in India, the Web has a lot of catching up to do. There are a great number of people still unconnected to computers, who still bury their noses in their morning papers. But a bigger case for the print medium would involve the respectability that being published brings. For all the problems of deadlines and restricted word-counts and having to toe editorial policy-lines and having to be family-friendly when you’d rather expunge the memory of a movie with a well-chosen cussword, there’s something to be said about a byline. Yes, writing for a Web portal can result in bylines too, but – call me a romantic – seeing your name on a computer monitor isn’t quite the same as having it block-printed on an extrusion of wood pulp. That’s something I’ll miss if I ever switch from print to full-time Web writing – but then, writing is writing, and as long as I have that, the world is still a wonderful place.
Copyright ©2008 The New Sunday Express. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
s
April 13, 2008
Snarky Bile!!!!!
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I find the magic quotient almost nil in your print medium reviews compared to this blog. I have never analyzed why, may be the space limit or something.
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Sagarika: Few minutes ago, I was just wondering if & when Baradwaj Rangan will release a book. The thought was immediately followed by how many volumes of books(min. 3?) you would be writing as a review for his book:) It would be full of praises but I would like it.
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DPac
April 13, 2008
what are the odds??
2 articles on the medium on the same day!!
have a look
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brangan
April 13, 2008
s: “snarky bile”? This? Oh, come on…
DPac: thanks for the link. that was a bit uncanny 🙂
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Anonymous
April 13, 2008
How Rude!
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Ravi
April 14, 2008
Well said Rangan bhai. I, for one, would never have come across your writings but for your blog. I would think a lot of people from my generation are being to exposed to a lot more quality writing thanks to blogs, but print can never go out of vogue. As u rightly said, seeing ur name in print gives u such a super feeling!
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brangan
April 14, 2008
Anon: Er, uh, what?
Ravi: “being to exposed to a lot more quality writing thanks to blogs, but print can never go out of vogue” That’s a bit contradictory, no? Because once the generations that grew up with newspapers go away, it’s just going to be the Web, right?
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Ravi
April 15, 2008
“Because once the generations that grew up with newspapers go away”, u think the end is that near :-(.
Anyways, the sheer pleasure of a morning cuppa and the newspaper will keep some of us romantics going for a while atleast 😉
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Deepauk M
April 17, 2008
Newspapers are turning into glorified laxatives because commenting is so much easier than writing a letter to the editor. But I guess rigorous fact-checking is difficult to impose on blogs or any such p2p information sharing. I understand the tangibility you associate with having your name in print though. (I dont know why though – last time my name was printed anywhere was on a college notice board saying I didnt have enough attendance).
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Sagarika
April 17, 2008
s: In case you’re losing sleep over why your “wondering a few minutes ago” took more than a few days to elicit a response from me, no, it’s not because I pounced on your fabulous idea and lost no time in getting started on simultaneous first drafts of the 3 books already (hey cart before the horse? But that’s my style, haven’t you figured that out by now? :-)). It’s because this week I’m one of the “great number of people still unconnected to computers, who still bury their noses in their morning papers.” USA Today in an Orlando, FL, resort hotel (where, under the guise of Spring break, I get to go on cool rides like Spiderman all week) is the “glorified laxative” of choice (although I much prefer the [San Jose] Mercury News back home).
Btw, I had to lurk in the lobby and hijack a computer dedicated to printing boarding passes to post this comment, phew. So much to say but so little time…I wish I could write it all down, stamp it and set it on its way to the snail-mail address of this blog…yes, I too am a sucker for the simple delights of the printed paper. More from me next week, everyone…
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brangan
April 18, 2008
Deepauk M: “glorified laxatives”? Was that a diss? Never underestimate that function, dude, especially of the crossword section 🙂
Sagarika: Isn’t USA Today a bit of a rag? The few times I read it, it seemed like a slightly more newsy version of People magazine.
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Deepauk M
April 18, 2008
Definitely not a diss, though in hindsight it sounds like one. It was more of a prediction. But I realise there is a long way to go before that eventuality is reached. I do see a time well into the future (if a global warming induced pralayam hasnt engulfed everyone by then) where Adwaita philosophy or some such will denote the Web as the all pervasive brahman and people like me will be autodownloading only the sports and cinema section of the Express directly onto our headsets.
Speaking of the express and the crossword, I preferred the jumbles in the Sunday express personally. 🙂
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Sagarika
April 22, 2008
Deepauk M: Your “..last time my name was printed anywhere was on a college notice board” triggered a melange of memories. Here’s the scariest: Second year of college, a bunch of friends dragged me-the-notorious-scribbler to the not-so-well-known Linguistics dept (ours was a predominantly engineering school) where an impromptu (seemingly innocuous) Valentine’s Day Poetry Contest was in progress. How my 2-page-long-cheesy-poem-that-took-20-minutes-to-compose wormed its way into every notice board on campus a week later, announcing “Man of My Dreams Wins the Rs.100 Poetry Prize” continues to confound me. The cartload of compliments that came my way couldn’t counter the (imagined) catcalls let alone coax me out of the closet for a really long time! Yeah, that’s how “un-romantic” a first-time-name-in-print thingie can wind up being, Man of My Dreams notwithstanding. 🙂
And “Speaking of the express and the crossword, I preferred the jumbles in the Sunday express personally.” Hey, didn’t jumbles come in the Express every day but Sunday? (I was raised in a household that was — thanks to its rabid Express readership/loyalty — much criticized by the extended family, neighbors, etc., every one of whom swore by the highfalutin Hindu. My sister and I (both jumble junkies) sparred ceremoniously over the morning paper on all days except Sunday when my dad gleefully walked off with his crossword — entirely uncontested!).
brangan: “Isn’t USA Today a bit of a rag?” Abso-bloody-lutely (as an ex-boss of mine used to say). Instead of crosswords, the paper takes potshots at celebrities to provide the called-for catharsis (“Alicia Keys, depressed enough to want to blow her brains out?” blares a byline when I’d rather read about the million talents of someone still in her 20s). Oh well. And why the heck do US Hotels force-feed *this* paper to room guests (i.e. those of us who go for the freebie vs. put a $5 NYT on the room tab)? God only knows.
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Deepauk M
April 22, 2008
Sagarika: If I remember correctly the Sunday express magazine, the additional segment that carried movie and sports news, had an extra long 7 word jumble which was slightly tougher than the regular weekday ones. We were an Express friendly household too (something to do with my uncle’s dislike of the way the Hindu handled Mrs.Gandhi’s emergency tactics), until I discovered I was losing my Art Buchwald and Cricket columns for the political affiliations in a household that hadn’t voted since Mountbatten was Viceroy. (I know no one voted then, but I’ve always wanted to use that phrase, so there.)
Your poem story reminds me; I wrote a poem for our engg. college newsletter (probably the only “Phoenix” that never rose from the ashes) only to watch aghast as it was quite unceremoniously handed to a rather cute senior girl. Thankfully it was pseudo-philosophical and not romantic (you earn more “embarassments-possible” points for your title and situation). The comments were complimentary, but the laughter hiding in their eye’s certainly wasn’t.
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Deepauk M
April 22, 2008
oops “hiding in their *eyes certainly wasn’t.”
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Sagarika
April 23, 2008
Deepauk M: “…the additional segment that carried movie and sports news, had an extra long 7 word jumble…” What?? I swear I never knew about it. The movie and sports news supplement wasn’t my reading-material-of-choice back then so I hadn’t a clue the Sunday jumbles was buried in there. Hmmm…but dad was a die-hard sports-movie-newspaper buff…Looks like I have a score to settle in the afterlife! My blood’s beginning to boil thinking how much better my vocabulary and propensity for anagram deciphering would be had I plowed thru those *tough* Sunday jumbles that were so slickly hijhacked — nice job, dad. 🙂 I mean given I’m someone who looks at the word “writing” and automatically goes “wring it,” thanks wholly to the years of jumble jujitsu and all that… 🙂
Speaking of newspapers, I think those of us who grew up in Chennai (and I’m sure it’s the case with other metros as well) have our very own family stories on the favorite newspaper — arguments every household held on to (and held up), sometimes for generations (speaking of course of the time when there were only two to choose from vs. the 20-something paper choices today…Deccan Chronicle, Adyar Times, Mylapore Times, and many more “mini” papers that I see doing the rounds during yearly visits back home. Maybe brangan could poll this blog audience for their growing-up-with-the-newspaper stories and summarize interesting anecdotes for this column? It could be a sort of tribute to the potency of the print medium or perhaps a prayer to prolong its halflife (as prophesied by some comments here). Besides, it’d be oh-so-interesting to read those anecdotes after they’ve passed thru the prism of perception that’s uniquely brangan’s!
And hey, I quite enjoyed the awesomeness in the turn of phrase “..a household that hadn’t voted since Mountbatten was Viceroy.” Now, your “Phoenix” poetry episode reminds me of all those poems, limericks, what not (in my secret stash meant for posthumous publication) that I was coerced to compose for “cute senior girls” during “freshie” ragging in the girls hostel (“describe her eyes” “verbalize her vibrant voluptuousness” (ok, it wasn’t this alliteratively stated, but you get the drift)…and on went the nightlong demands on my only “artistic” talent — but hey, isn’t a captive audience a dream-come-true for anyone with even the slightest of skills to showcase? So yeah, I did enjoy my fifteen friggin’ hours of fame, figuratively speaking!).
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Voldemort
August 4, 2022
What a lovely piece this is. These kind of general posts should make a comeback. And wow, all the way back in 2008 itself you’ve discussed print going out of vogue.
Also this –
seeing your name on a computer monitor isn’t quite the same as having it block-printed on an extrusion of wood pulp. That’s something I’ll miss if I ever switch from print to full-time Web writing – but then, writing is writing, and as long as I have that, the world is still a wonderful place.
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Madan
August 4, 2022
Wow, Deepauk was talking about fact checking in 2008. Talk about prescient!
Loved the banter /reminiscing between him and Sagarika. Chortled at “a household that hadn’t voted since Mountbatten was Viceroy”. But also makes me sad to think that India is gone for good. Why, for all I know, maybe I wouldn’t be able to see eye to eye with Deepauk today and rather would be thankful for the matter to end cordially there.
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