Screengrab editor emeritus Bilge Ebiri reports from the frontlines of Park City.



I guess I should say something about this whole dust-up that occurred yesterday between Variety critic John Anderson and sales rep Jeff “The Dude” Dowd. For those unfamiliar with the event, a full account can be found here, but basically, Anderson wound up punching Dowd after the latter wouldn’t let go of Anderson after learning that he was not a fan of Dirt! The Movie, a film which Dowd is representing at the festival. Apparently, Dowd was trying to convince Anderson to re-consider a statement he had made that the film wouldn’t be popular with the public. Somehow, Jackie Martling was involved. Some have claimed that Dowd was telling Anderson to go easy on the doc because of its worthy subject matter; Dowd disputes this. Part of the problem seems to be that, as a critic for Variety, Anderson holds an unnatural degree of power over whether the film will get picked up or not. Then again, Dowd, who was the inspiration for Jeff Bridges’s character in The Big Lebowski, is no slouch himself.

I don’t really know either of them – I have met Anderson once, and I may have gotten an email blast or two from Dowd at some point -- and I wasn’t there, so I have nothing to offer about the event, but the ostensible subject of the argument itself is one I have given some thought to. Does a documentary with a worthy and important subject deserve some kind of bonus points even if it just plain sucks? (Mind you, I haven’t seen Dirt! yet, so this has nothing to do with that film.) Or, perhaps more pertinent, what if said documentary is not terrible but merely serviceable?

Others have tackled this question before, and I’m not sure there’s an easy answer. The serious-minded critic obviously owes it to him or herself to judge a film on its artistic merits – and said merits can also include the justice it does to its subject, btw. I have often been in a position where a documentary didn’t float my boat artistically but still seemed to be doing something vaguely important, such as shedding light on an important subject. (Holocaust docs often suffer from this problem.) What did I do in this case? Well, when I had the space, I often went ahead and noted that others may find it more worthwhile.

But isn’t it also true that a filmmaker often owes it to his/her subject to find a strong and unique way to present it? That is, unless they simply want to preach to the choir. As a fan of punk, I may get just as excited by a simple, artlessly-done PBS special on the Sex Pistols as I might by Julien Temple’s The Filth and the Fury, a film full of strong artistic choices. However, someone who isn’t interested in the Sex Pistols may not be too taken by the PBS special, but they may very well be drawn in by The Filth and the Fury. In other words, strong aesthetic choices may very well help a film do justice to its subject; the two concepts are not mutually exclusive. This seems like an obvious point, but I’m always amazed when people forget it.

At the same time, it’s also a fact that Sundance and many other lesser film festivals are choc-a-bloc with documentaries that seem to be asking for pats on the back more than anything else. I don’t like to question the motives of anyone who spends a year or two making a film, but sometimes it’s hard not to feel like the filmmakers think they’ve got a better shot at popularity if they treat a worthy subject. Again, I have no idea if Dirt! is one of these films, but it seems to me that Anderson was sticking up for an important critical principle: The right to call bullshit on even the most sacred of cows when the situation demands it.

That is, until he went and punched the guy, I mean jesus.