“The Critic” - Film Review
The irony of a critic reviewing a film called The Critic is not lost on this writer. As defined by the opening voiceover from Jimmy Erskine (Ian McKellen), the film’s titular critic, the purpose of this acclaimed title is to be a “judge” of the arts. To be an arbiter of culture and to give an opinion to the general public. Equal parts a dissection of what it means to be a critic and a small-scale period-piece thriller, The Critic works best when it allows its two leads to verbally spar. The film originally premiered at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival, but has since been re-edited based on audience feedback. Having seen both versions, it’s clear that the 2024 version of The Critic is leaner. This works in its favor, but it’s still missing that little something extra that would allow it to be a raving success.
Jimmy Erskine has been the main theatre critic in London for decades. He made a name for himself with his often ruthless descriptions of performances, relishing in the flowery, merciless writing that flowed from his pen. Jimmy makes or breaks actors in the London theatre scene and Nina Land (Gemma Arterton) has never been one of his favorites. Throughout the years, he has critiqued every attribute of hers, but now the times are changing. With new management coming to Jimmy’s newspaper, the old guard is on its way out. Even with the legacy Jimmy has cultivated, the newspaper is going in a new direction, and it’s one that doesn’t agree with Jimmy’s sexuality. 1934 is proving to be a new world that Jimmy doesn’t fit into anymore, but he sees Nina as a means to an end to secure his future.
One of the reasons for The Critic’s lukewarm reception at TIFF might be because audiences aren’t used to seeing McKellen in such a vicious role. Jimmy is a character who delights in the notoriety that his job provides to him. It appears as though he cares less about the theatre and more about status and the title he has. This is partially true, but The Critic is also careful to show that Jimmy, too, once loved being on the stage. It’s one of the few scenes where McKellen is softer. More often than not, he’s spending his time conniving with reckless abandon. All that matters to him is his life and the fame that comes with it. Jimmy approaches everything malicious with a sense of glee. He’s enjoying ruining the lives of others because that means his way of life remains intact.
Nina is the subject of much of Jimmy’s ire. She has also been working in the London theatre scene for decades, but hasn’t found much traction. That’s partially due to her tendency to overact, but also because Jimmy grants her no grace in his reviews. Arterton, as always, has a commanding presence in this film. She goes toe-to-toe with McKellen on quite a few occasions, and those make for the film’s most sizzling conversations. They both live for notoriety and will make questionable choices in order to have a taste of success. To be known to a greater audience. The question at the heart of The Critic is what parts of ourselves will we throw away for fame? For immortality? For the mere chance of being remembered? Jimmy and Nina answer those questions in different ways as the film progresses, which provides a large portion of the film’s conflict.
Jimmy sees Nina as the key to keeping his job at the newspaper because the new owner, David Brooke (Mark Strong), has had a longtime crush on Nina. On every opening night, David would anonymously send a bouquet of white roses to Nina. Little did he know that Nina’s affections lay elsewhere, in the arms of a painter (Ben Barnes). In exchange for gaining information about his new boss, Jimmy would write Nina glowing reviews and call her the future of the London theatre scene. It’s this blackmail plot where The Critic could have raised the stakes further. Yes, the endings for some of the characters involved are life and death, but these emotions progress too quickly in the film. A deeper tension could have been allowed to develop within this tangled web.
“There is art in you, Ms. Land. My disappointment is in your inability to access it.” It’s a particularly biting statement from Jimmy to Nina, and it hurts more than any of the publicized comments that have torn down her voice or her looks. What Jimmy says to Nina in that moment is the heart of criticism. Critique does not exist to punch down or rip a piece of art apart for the fun of it, but that is what gets the engagement and the clicks. The purest form of criticism of any artform comes from the genuine sadness of experiencing a piece of art, feeling its potential, and not seeing that artistic vision fully realized. Every single piece of art is a labor of love, and those who critique shouldn’t lose sight of that. Criticism comes from a place of appreciation and its purpose is to elevate the art that they love.
The Critic suffers from a multitude of compelling factors that beg to be explored in a more extended fashion. A film can’t completely paint the picture of 1930s London on the precipice of World War II and show how that impacted the theatrical world. Beyond that, Jimmy’s unabashed openness for his sexuality in that era is another compelling piece of the puzzle. The same can be said for Nina and her desperate, hungry desire to do the thing she loves. The Critic is filled to the brim with sparkling performances, and it’s difficult to overlook the fact that more time with these characters would have suited them and the story a little better.
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