To the Editors,
Noah Tsika's review of "Monster" (The Dartmouth, Jan. 5), if you can call it that, exhibits all the qualities of what's wrong with film criticism today. Not that it wasn't always like this, but with the onset of the internet, which allowed anyone and everyone to be the movie critic, editorial blathering has come to replace true artistic criticism. And Tsika's article is no exception. I'm not saying movie reviews should be stuffy and pretentious, not at all, but critics should at least resist the urge to write for themselves -- or rather, for the self-gratification they get from readers' praises -- instead of writing for the good of the readers. In fact, if you peer just beneath the surface of Tsika's writing, one can almost glimpse him masturbating to his own overwrought quips and insipid wisecracks. His review of Monster does not resemble a review in any way, shape or form. It is a personal tirade, plain and simple (much like this one) that belongs on the op-ed page perhaps, but not in a negative film review that could have been far more effective had Tsika utilized fair and level-headed arguments. Instead, he seems to have mistaken film criticism for amateur night at the Improv.
