A film critic turned filmmaker seems intent on confirming negative stereotypes about critics… and that’s before his movie gets truly unpleasantly smug.
I’m “biast” (con): not a huge fan of rom-coms
(what is this about? see my critic’s minifesto)
Former film critic Hernán Guerschuny makes his debut as screenwriter and director with The Film Critic, a movie that appears intent on confirming all the negative stereotypes about film critics, up to and including the one that we are all wannabe filmmakers. Víctor Tellez (Rafael Spregelburd) is a grumpy, elitist critic for a Buenos Aires newspaper — the Internet doesn’t seem to exist in this world — who holds popular movies in disdain, reserving the worst of his ire for the risible clichés and utter predictability of the romantic comedy. I can’t say I entirely disagree with his stance on the rom-com as a genre, but The Film Critic then plants Víctor squarely in the middle of one, clichés intact, when he meets off-the-shelf manic pixie dream girl Sofía (Dolores Fonzi). How rom-com is this? How MPDG is she? She quirkily shoplifts during their freespirited trying-on-hats falling-in-love montage. Really. She deems him “interesting and repulsive,” which is true, except for the interesting part; actually, he’s not even repulsive enough to compensate — he’s just a familiar sort of tedious sad sack. (You know what might have made him slightly interesting? If this all turned out to be a nightmare of his while he fell asleep at a screening, maybe, or perhaps while he was having the heart attack the movie seems to threaten is in the offing for him. But no such luck.) Merely underscoring the tropes of the genre as they are happening onscreen isn’t clever, nor does it suddenly make them cute or amusing. But the film veers into truly unpleasant smugness when it suggests that Guerschuny might be akin to Capra, and that any negative criticism of The Film Critic is probably due to the offending reviewer simply not getting laid enough. But hey! The Film Critic also suggests that stupid rom-coms don’t need eggheads like me on their side anyway.