Man, the critics get tougher each year. The review, while harsh, was written with adequate skill at sentence construction. However, it was also littered with nonsensical (though grammatically, pretty well constructed) sentences and on at least one occasion, the author grievously misused a word in ignorance of its definition. And quite often, it seemed as though the author was merely stating his or her opinion. A good review should incorporate the author's opinion, but at the same time, must judge the work not based on these opinions, but on some standards of aesthetics. Judging something on how "artsy" or "obscure" it may or may not be, rather than explaining how and why the play did or did not work, demonstrates laziness and a lack of critical thinking skills.
Let us begin at the beginning. "Witness Theater is known for having minimalist sets with few props or materials. However, after this weekend's Fall Showcase, the student theater group may soon also become known for producing plays with little plot and a lack of passion from its actors. The one-hour show consisted of four student-written and directed plays that, as a whole, largely failed to impress, causing an aftertaste of pure disappointment." This paragraph is the author's thesis, a statement of the points he or she intends to drive home. There is nothing that violently offends normal sensibilities here (not yet, anyways), but it hints at the clumsiness that will soon surface in the author's writing. In particular, I point to the phrase, "an aftertaste of pure disappointment". What is the taste of disappointment? How did the aftertaste get into the mouth of the reviewer anyway? Did the reviewer eat the Witness Fall Showcase and all its players? Did he or she lick them? It is a nonsensical phrase, put in to catch the reader's eye and stick in the reader's mind. That's fine, and one or two nonsensical phrases are not a bad thing. But if the author relies too much on them, and this is especially true if the author has a poor sense of timing when it comes to written humor, the author will only succeed in undermining his or her message by making it look like a just another joke to the reader.
Moving on, we find a decently constructed blurb introducing the writer, director and actors of the first play. There is a compliment made to the "clever lighting" supposedly used to conceal Kevin's penis. From a writing standpoint, this is all fine. From a factual standpoint, it is not. The truth is, a pair of boxer's concealed Kevin's penis throughout the play. But because the author has misinterpreted the use of the lighting and because the author could not be bothered to get the facts straight, he or she is able to dismiss the artful work of the lighting technicians as part of a throwaway gag. "It was just there to hide the man's dick," this review says, "so there is no need to describe how it affected the mood or tone of the play, no need to discuss how it may have added to the plot or humor overall."
The third paragraph, though, is where the review really begins to fall apart:
"Unfortunately, the whole play was about Kevin's problem getting it up and failing to be intimate with Haley. The play tried too hard to be something all modern couples can relate to with a supposed everyman-like Kevin and references to Viagra, but it soon became lost in pseudo-artistic obscurity. It was almost as if the play itself suffered from erectile dysfunction."
This is where the review sheds itself of credibility by succumbing to the temptation to make bad jokes and to make snappy judgements rooted in personal opinion and not by reason. "Unfortunately, the whole play was about Kevin's problem getting it up and failing to be intimate with Haley." How is that unfortunate? Is there something inherently wrong with plays about sexual problems? "Ah," one might say, "the author will justify this assertion with the following sentences of the same paragraph, certainly," but this is not so. Instead, the author accuses the play of "trying too hard", claims that Kevin is not a relatable "every-man" but neglects to say why Kevin is not an "every-man", and says the play sinks into "pseudo-artistic obscurity". (What does that mean?) And then, the author lays on us a joke: "It was almost as if the play itself suffered from erectile dysfunction." Humor is subjective, so maybe someone will find this sentence funny. Regardless, it is another joke, another non-sensical sentence, and another blow to the review's credibility. Whenever the reviewer seeks to make a point, he or she feels compelled to hammer away at his or her credentials by making another sophomoric remark. The following paragraph, which deals with the exact same thing as the paragraph before it and probably should have been combined with it to form a single paragraph, finally makes something like a reasoned argument for why the play might not have worked for the reviewer: "...the explicit terminology and kinky costumes seemed to add nothing significant to the performance." The author follows what might have been a serious critique of the play with assertions that the play "slugged along" and that the play's leading man "staggered his lines". (Whether or not the actor was portraying a character whose speech might be staggered is not said. The only things, really, that we know about Kevin from this review are that his penis was hidden, that he has problems getting it up, and that he is not an every-man. We still know next to nothing about his personality.) When it comes to judging how an actor performs, perhaps one has to resort to using an opinion. Acting, like music, has some technical elements to it, but also has a strong intangible element to it. Things like stage presence and cool and warmth are difficult to quantify. That still doesn't excuse the author of this review, however, for writing that a girl's performance was "as adequate as her black leather costume". How adequate was the costume? Was the costume not adequate? Were bits and pieces of the actress poking out of it? Was it too adequate? Did it cover the actress's face? More importantly, was the performance adequate? Who can tell? Certainly, acting is the one single thing for which the author of a play review may be allowed to rely on his or her opinion to judge and critique, on the basis of the non-technical elements to it, but if the author has an opinion, he or she had better express it clearly.
The rest of the review does not get any better. Occasionally, a judgement is backed by the author's reasoning or logic, but not often. The author would rather use snide and baseless criticism to make his or her points. The author also shows an unreasonable hatred of all things that strike the author as being "artsy" and "obscure", and a love for "the every-man". Why? Perhaps the author is a communist. Perhaps the author is a redneck. Who knows? Finally, the author needs to learn the difference between a spinster and a spin doctor-- a spinster is an elderly woman or maid, a spin doctor is a public relations expert hired by a politician or business to improve their standing in the media.
The review is a breezy read, and except for the frequent tries at humor and the occasional unclear sentence, it is not terribly written, but it fails to engage and respond to the plays of the Witness Fall Showcase in a thoughtful and articulate manner.
Haha, apparently you were involved with the play? Don't worry, not all plays can be good. Don't take it out on the review. Maybe your next showcase will be better. Better luck next time buddy!
And so ejango retaliates with a classic use of argumentum ad hominem, attacking the man speaking rather than his words. Perhaps he does so in the hopes that the failure of such counterarguments to be in any way valid over the last two thousand years will be miraculously remedied in time for his comment to come across as sardonically witty, yet aptly derisive of Django's efforts. Alas, like many before him who have screamed "Yeah, well, you're stupid!" he must learn to live with disappointment.
But more than this, I am left to wonder who the enigmatic ejango was? Django's identity is of some interest, yes, but as ejango has rightly noted any number of people associated with the showcase might have a vested interest in discrediting such a scathing review. But who would be so defensive of such an attempt to lampoon the review? After exhaustive research, I have only two possibilities.
One, the author, in a blatant display of insecurity over the quality of his own work. It is an unprofessional and gutless critic who jumps at the first sign of objection to his opinion. If I may anticipate the rebuttal to this possibility, note that Django did not attempt to defend the showcase, but merely to respond to the questionable choices made by the reviewer in condemning it, both technically and from an overall standpoint.
Secondly, I feel it may be his mother. Mothers are often very protective of their children, and seeing her young boy be critiqued so thoroughly may have been too much for her to bear. As a result, she chooses to don the costume of the mysterious ejango, defender of the right of critics everywhere to express opinion howsoever they want without having to answer to principles of justification, reason, or sensible communication.
As for me, no I am not Django. I do not know who is, though I have my suspicions. I just think the reviewer, like many, many others who write for the Newsletter, has been extremely lazy and sloppy with this effort. A negative review is one thing; a bad review is quite another, and one that cannot be solved by personal attacks on those who think its quality was poor.
And so ejango retaliates with a classic use of argumentum ad hominem, attacking the man speaking rather than his words. Perhaps he does so in the hopes that the failure of such counterarguments to be in any way valid over the last two thousand years will be miraculously remedied in time for his comment to come across as sardonically witty, yet aptly derisive of Django's efforts. Alas, like many before him who have screamed "Yeah, well, you're stupid!" he must learn to live with disappointment.
But more than this, I am left to wonder who the enigmatic ejango was? Django's identity is of some interest, yes, but as ejango has rightly noted any number of people associated with the showcase might have a vested interest in discrediting such a scathing review. But who would be so defensive of such an attempt to lampoon the review? After exhaustive research, I have only two possibilities.
One, the author, in a blatant display of insecurity over the quality of his own work. It is a gutless critic who jumps at the first sign of objection to his opinion. If I may anticipate the rebuttal to this possibility, note that Django did not attempt to defend the showcase, but merely to respond to the questionable choices made by the reviewer in condemning it, both technically and from an overall standpoint.
Secondly, I feel it may be his mother. Mothers are often very protective of their children, and seeing her young boy be critiqued so thoroughly may have been too much for her to bear. As a result, she chooses to don the costume of the mysterious ejango, defender of the right of critics everywhere to express opinion howsoever they want without having to answer to principles of justification, reason, or sensible communication.
As for me, no I am not Django. I do not know who is, though I have my suspicions. I just think the reviewer, like many, many others who write for the Newsletter, has been extremely lazy and sloppy with this effort. A negative review is one thing; a bad review is quite another, and one that cannot be solved by personal attacks on those who think its quality was poor.
Even I feel some of that "aftertaste" of disappointment, and I don't really want to go to a Witness show ever again. The author made his point clear in the sand. Now, what you -- Fjango and Django -- have been doing is rustling up the dust and throwing it up into the air. You're not paying attention to what should be the focus of this discussion, the play; rather, you go about insulting all News-Letter writers and putting down the author in a typically snobby fashion. Now, you can keep it up here and throw the sand around all you want, but I assure you that the other jangos and the author will be moving on to write and read the next article. Let's see if you can see that clearly with all that sand already in your eyes...
First of all, I'd like to congratulate you on accomplishing the rare botched idiom/mixed metaphor combo! Combining "made his point" with "drew a line in the sand" is, so far as I know, a heretofore unprecedented conflation of two unrelated phrases. But when you moved on to us throwing DUST in the air, I admit to being confused. It was sand but a moment ago! But when, by the end, it's sand again that we have in our eyes I saw it in perfect clarity, and let me say that the inclusion of transubstantiation in your comment is sheer poetry. Of course it's awful poetry, but then most poetry is.
And yes! Congratulations, you've found us out! We're not defending the Witness showcase! You could have saved yourself the effort of this discovery by perhaps reading the line in my post which read something to the effect of "Django was not defending the witness show," but it's so much more fun to derail arguments I haven't made. If you are uninterested in discussing the review itself, I suggest you make the radical choice to refrain from doing so. Though on reflection it may very well break my heart to miss out on another metaphor... analogy... idiom? I don't know, whatever the dust thing was. Priceless.
As to the point about my post being snobby, maybe. That last paragraph is certainly an argument in your favor. I also used the phrase "argumentum ad hominem" which sounds pretty snobby even to me, and the word "transubstantiation," which is obscure at best. But, it turns out I don't care - my point, unlike so many others, came across clear in spite of this. As for the show itself, I thought it was mediocre. It certainly had its problems, but it had moments I really enjoyed as well. I just think everything the original reviewer said was poorly parsed bullshit is all.
Gjango and Manimala, I hope I did not offend you too much. It was not my intent. I criticized the review because it was not well written and because I do not like it when I see a poorly written article in the JHU Newsletter. I wish the author of the article luck on his or her next assignment, and I look forward to reading it.
You should all calm down with your posts. I admit that my review had some minor problems; it was my first review. However, I stand by all my points, and I wish Witness Theater better luck next time. That's that.
And those who have a beef with my review should refrain from sending methreats over email and facebook. Focus your anger into creative energy instead. Thanks.
Spring Break
Django
posted 10/10/08 @ 12:27 AM EST
Let us begin at the beginning. "Witness Theater is known for having minimalist sets with few props or materials. However, after this weekend's Fall Showcase, the student theater group may soon also become known for producing plays with little plot and a lack of passion from its actors. The one-hour show consisted of four student-written and directed plays that, as a whole, largely failed to impress, causing an aftertaste of pure disappointment." This paragraph is the author's thesis, a statement of the points he or she intends to drive home. There is nothing that violently offends normal sensibilities here (not yet, anyways), but it hints at the clumsiness that will soon surface in the author's writing. In particular, I point to the phrase, "an aftertaste of pure disappointment". What is the taste of disappointment? How did the aftertaste get into the mouth of the reviewer anyway? Did the reviewer eat the Witness Fall Showcase and all its players? Did he or she lick them? It is a nonsensical phrase, put in to catch the reader's eye and stick in the reader's mind. That's fine, and one or two nonsensical phrases are not a bad thing. But if the author relies too much on them, and this is especially true if the author has a poor sense of timing when it comes to written humor, the author will only succeed in undermining his or her message by making it look like a just another joke to the reader.
Moving on, we find a decently constructed blurb introducing the writer, director and actors of the first play. There is a compliment made to the "clever lighting" supposedly used to conceal Kevin's penis. From a writing standpoint, this is all fine. From a factual standpoint, it is not. The truth is, a pair of boxer's concealed Kevin's penis throughout the play. But because the author has misinterpreted the use of the lighting and because the author could not be bothered to get the facts straight, he or she is able to dismiss the artful work of the lighting technicians as part of a throwaway gag. "It was just there to hide the man's dick," this review says, "so there is no need to describe how it affected the mood or tone of the play, no need to discuss how it may have added to the plot or humor overall."
The third paragraph, though, is where the review really begins to fall apart:
"Unfortunately, the whole play was about Kevin's problem getting it up and failing to be intimate with Haley. The play tried too hard to be something all modern couples can relate to with a supposed everyman-like Kevin and references to Viagra, but it soon became lost in pseudo-artistic obscurity. It was almost as if the play itself suffered from erectile dysfunction."
This is where the review sheds itself of credibility by succumbing to the temptation to make bad jokes and to make snappy judgements rooted in personal opinion and not by reason. "Unfortunately, the whole play was about Kevin's problem getting it up and failing to be intimate with Haley." How is that unfortunate? Is there something inherently wrong with plays about sexual problems? "Ah," one might say, "the author will justify this assertion with the following sentences of the same paragraph, certainly," but this is not so. Instead, the author accuses the play of "trying too hard", claims that Kevin is not a relatable "every-man" but neglects to say why Kevin is not an "every-man", and says the play sinks into "pseudo-artistic obscurity". (What does that mean?) And then, the author lays on us a joke: "It was almost as if the play itself suffered from erectile dysfunction." Humor is subjective, so maybe someone will find this sentence funny. Regardless, it is another joke, another non-sensical sentence, and another blow to the review's credibility. Whenever the reviewer seeks to make a point, he or she feels compelled to hammer away at his or her credentials by making another sophomoric remark. The following paragraph, which deals with the exact same thing as the paragraph before it and probably should have been combined with it to form a single paragraph, finally makes something like a reasoned argument for why the play might not have worked for the reviewer: "...the explicit terminology and kinky costumes seemed to add nothing significant to the performance." The author follows what might have been a serious critique of the play with assertions that the play "slugged along" and that the play's leading man "staggered his lines". (Whether or not the actor was portraying a character whose speech might be staggered is not said. The only things, really, that we know about Kevin from this review are that his penis was hidden, that he has problems getting it up, and that he is not an every-man. We still know next to nothing about his personality.) When it comes to judging how an actor performs, perhaps one has to resort to using an opinion. Acting, like music, has some technical elements to it, but also has a strong intangible element to it. Things like stage presence and cool and warmth are difficult to quantify. That still doesn't excuse the author of this review, however, for writing that a girl's performance was "as adequate as her black leather costume". How adequate was the costume? Was the costume not adequate? Were bits and pieces of the actress poking out of it? Was it too adequate? Did it cover the actress's face? More importantly, was the performance adequate? Who can tell? Certainly, acting is the one single thing for which the author of a play review may be allowed to rely on his or her opinion to judge and critique, on the basis of the non-technical elements to it, but if the author has an opinion, he or she had better express it clearly.
The rest of the review does not get any better. Occasionally, a judgement is backed by the author's reasoning or logic, but not often. The author would rather use snide and baseless criticism to make his or her points. The author also shows an unreasonable hatred of all things that strike the author as being "artsy" and "obscure", and a love for "the every-man". Why? Perhaps the author is a communist. Perhaps the author is a redneck. Who knows? Finally, the author needs to learn the difference between a spinster and a spin doctor-- a spinster is an elderly woman or maid, a spin doctor is a public relations expert hired by a politician or business to improve their standing in the media.
The review is a breezy read, and except for the frequent tries at humor and the occasional unclear sentence, it is not terribly written, but it fails to engage and respond to the plays of the Witness Fall Showcase in a thoughtful and articulate manner.