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Plagiarism, criticism: what’s the difference?

Plagiarism, criticism: what’s the difference? (photo)

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You may have heard about the scandal surrounding Australian junketeer Paul Fischer, who was caught straight-up taking chunks of his Sundance reviews from the catalogue’s official synopses. My two-part reaction to this kind of news: First, “Wow, you have to be an idiot to plagiarize on the internet in this day and age.” Second, “AS A HARDWORKING FREELANCE WRITER, I AM OUTRAGED.” And then this other voice intruded — and it said: “Who cares?”

We’re not exactly talking about Jayson Blair or Stephen Glass here: we’re talking about a guy who wrote harried capsules of Sundance premieres for what the Vancouver Sun‘s Chris Parry unkindly but accurately describes as “mid-level online outlets.” The fate of film criticism — or even the forward motion of the blogosphere — isn’t at stake. And the reason people caught on, according to Parry, wasn’t anything more sinister than complaints from filmmakers that negative reviews (since pulled from their host websites) were being propped up with blatant laziness.

But Parry goes on to detail how, for years and years, Fischer was a quote-whore of the most unregenerate kind without anyone but fellow critics noticing, placing him in the same category as the infamous Earl Dittman, Pete Hammond (late of “Maxim” magazine), et al. That apparently wasn’t a problem, because plenty of readers who are totally cool with that. So why all the outrage over this indiscretion?

Film writers often think the wrong way about blurb-chasing — the argument is that especially soulless, careerist and traffic-grubbing writers are perfectly happy to churn out easily snippable adjectives of praise for the most implausible garbage in return for studio junket perks and traffic. And they blame the writers for this. But you know what? Blame the readers.

Most people don’t want to read Cinema Scope or elongated theses on the work of Tsai Ming-Liang. They don’t even want to know how, say, a blockbuster like “Sherlock Holmes” fits into the work of Guy Ritchie (a guy for whom plausible claims can be made) or doesn’t or anything of the sort. What ordinary filmgoers want are, in fact, plot synopses (to see if it sounds interesting) and bottom line blurbs — to know that something is “exciting” or “scary” or “heart-pounding” or “hilarious” or whatever.

02042010_norbit.jpgWhich is fine, and no disparagement upon people who have no reason to spend most of their waking hours overanalyzing entertainment. We’re all wired differently. When, say, “Norbit” director Brian Robbins celebrates the financial victories of his movies by claiming “The only films that get good reviews are the ones that nobody sees,” he’s correct in relative terms. Many of the movies that get “good reviews” do, in fact, get less of an audience — just take a look through the past year’s indieWIRE critics poll.

So, in an odd way, I don’t blame Fischer for swiping his material. He was just giving his audience what it wanted: simple, punchy ways to hyperbolize the entertainment value of what you’re about to see. That Fischer’s about to be drummed out of journalism wasn’t a judgment of taste, a decision that enough was enough; it was a stupid plagiarism scandal. Otherwise, he would’ve kept working and no one would’ve really noticed except his fellow journalists.

Normal people don’t complain about hacky critics; they complain about “elitist” critics and the great grey myth of the especially snobbish one who says “If you don’t like it, you don’t get it” (something I’ve never actually seen in writing). Blame Fischer? Sure. Drum him out? Absolutely. (I work hard; I don’t appreciate his transgression any more than the next guy.) But the problem isn’t this guy: it’s a system congested on every level — blog, print, TV, what-have-you — with criticism where what harried readers, studios and editors want is exactly the same: short, simple and stupid. He’s not the illness: he’s the symptom. That he prospered for so long (and he’s far from the only one of his kind) is the real scandal.

[Photos: “Shattered Glass,” Lions Gate Films, 2003; “Norbit,” Paramount, 2007]



Reminders that the ’90s were a thing

"The Place We Live" is available for a Jessie Spano-level binge on Comedy Crib.

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GIFs via Giphy

Unless you stopped paying attention to the world at large in 1989, you are of course aware that the ’90s are having their pop cultural second coming. Nobody is more acutely aware of this than Dara Katz and Betsy Kenney, two comedians who met doing improv comedy and have just made their Comedy Crib debut with the hilarious ’90s TV throwback series, The Place We Live.

IFC: How would you describe “The Place We Live” to a fancy network executive you just met in an elevator?

Dara: It’s everything you loved–or loved to hate—from Melrose Place and 90210 but condensed to five minutes, funny (on purpose) and totally absurd.

IFC: How would you describe “The Place We Live” to a drunk friend of a friend you met in a bar?

Betsy: “Hey Todd, why don’t you have a sip of water. Also, I think you’ll love The Place We Live because everyone has issues…just like you, Todd.”


IFC: When you were living through the ’90s, did you think it was television’s golden age or the pop culture apocalypse?

Betsy: I wasn’t sure I knew what it was, I just knew I loved it!

Dara: Same. Was just happy that my parents let me watch. But looking back, the ’90s honored The Teen. And for that, it’s the golden age of pop culture. 

IFC: Which ’90s shows did you mine for the series, and why?

Betsy: Melrose and 90210 for the most part. If you watch an episode of either of those shows you’ll see they’re a comedic gold mine. In one single episode, they cover serious crimes, drug problems, sex and working in a law firm and/or gallery, all while being young, hot and skinny.

Dara: And almost any series we were watching in the ’90s, Full House, Saved By the Bell, My So Called Life has very similar themes, archetypes and really stupid-intense drama. We took from a lot of places. 


IFC: How would you describe each of the show’s characters in terms of their ’90s TV stereotype?

Dara: Autumn (Sunita Mani) is the femme fatale. Robin (Dara Katz) is the book worm (because she wears glasses). Candace (Betsy Kenney) is Corey’s twin and gives great advice and has really great hair. Corey (Casey Jost) is the boy next door/popular guy. Candace and Corey’s parents decided to live in a car so the gang can live in their house. 
Lee (Jonathan Braylock) is the jock.

IFC: Why do you think the world is ready for this series?

Dara: Because everyone’s feeling major ’90s nostalgia right now, and this is that, on steroids while also being a totally new, silly thing.

Delight in the whole season of The Place We Live right now on IFC’s Comedy Crib. It’ll take you back in all the right ways.


New Nasty

Whips, Chains and Hand Sanitizer

Turn On The Full Season Of Neurotica At IFC's Comedy Crib

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Jenny Jaffe has a lot going on: She’s writing for Disney’s upcoming Big Hero 6: The Series, developing comedy projects with pals at Devastator Press, and she’s straddling the line between S&M and OCD as the creator and star of the sexyish new series Neurotica, which has just made its debut on IFC’s Comedy Crib. Jenny gave us some extremely intimate insight into what makes Neurotica (safely) sizzle…


IFC: How would you describe Neurotica to a fancy network executive you met in an elevator?

Jenny: Neurotica is about a plucky Dominatrix with OCD trying to save her small-town dungeon.

IFC: How would you describe Neurotica to a drunk friend of a friend you met in a bar?

Jenny: Neurotica is about a plucky Dominatrix with OCD trying to save her small-town dungeon. You’re great. We should get coffee sometime. I’m not just saying that. I know other people just say that sometimes but I really feel like we’re going to be friends, you know? Here, what’s your number, I’ll call you so you can have my number!

IFC: What’s your comedy origin story?

Jenny: Since I was a kid I’ve dealt with severe OCD and anxiety. Comedy has always been one of the ways I’ve dealt with that. I honestly just want to help make people feel happy for a few minutes at a time.

IFC: What was the genesis of Neurotica?

Jenny: I’m pretty sure it was a title-first situation. I was coming up with ideas to pitch to a production company a million years ago (this isn’t hyperbole; I am VERY old) and just wrote down “Neurotica”; then it just sort of appeared fully formed. “Neurotica? Oh it’s an over-the-top romantic comedy about a Dominatrix with OCD, of course.” And that just happened to hit the buttons of everything I’m fascinated by.


IFC: How would you describe Ivy?

Jenny: Ivy is everything I love in a comedy character – she’s tenacious, she’s confident, she’s sweet, she’s a big wonderful weirdo.

IFC: How would Ivy’s clientele describe her?

Jenny:  Open-minded, caring, excellent aim.

IFC: Why don’t more small towns have local dungeons?

Jenny: How do you know they don’t?

IFC: What are the pros and cons of joining a chain mega dungeon?

Jenny: You can use any of their locations but you’ll always forget you have a membership and in a year you’ll be like “jeez why won’t they let me just cancel?”

IFC: Mouths are gross! Why is that?

Jenny: If you had never seen a mouth before and I was like “it’s a wet flesh cave with sharp parts that lives in your face”, it would sound like Cronenberg-ian body horror. All body parts are horrifying. I’m kind of rooting for the singularity, I’d feel way better if I was just a consciousness in a cloud.

See the whole season of Neurotica right now on IFC’s Comedy Crib.


The ’90s Are Back

The '90s live again during IFC's weekend marathon.

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Photo Credit: Everett Digital, Columbia Pictures

We know what you’re thinking: “Why on Earth would anyone want to reanimate the decade that gave us Haddaway, Los Del Rio, and Smash Mouth, not to mention Crystal Pepsi?”


Thoughts like those are normal. After all, we tend to remember lasting psychological trauma more vividly than fleeting joy. But if you dig deep, you’ll rediscover that the ’90s gave us so much to fondly revisit. Consider the four pillars of true ’90s culture.

Boy Bands

We all pretended to hate them, but watch us come alive at a karaoke bar when “I Want It That Way” comes on. Arguably more influential than Brit Pop and Grunge put together, because hello – Justin Timberlake. He’s a legitimate cultural gem.

Man-Child Movies

Adam Sandler is just behind The Simpsons in terms of his influence on humor. Somehow his man-child schtick didn’t get old until the aughts, and his success in that arena ushered in a wave of other man-child movies from fellow ’90s comedians. RIP Chris Farley (and WTF Rob Schneider).



Teen Angst

In horror, dramas, comedies, and everything in between: Troubled teens! Getting into trouble! Who couldn’t relate to their First World problems, plaid flannels, and lose grasp of the internet?

Mainstream Nihilism

From the Coen Bros to Fincher to Tarantino, filmmakers on the verge of explosive popularity seemed interested in one thing: mind f*cking their audiences by putting characters in situations (and plot lines) beyond anyone’s control.

Feeling better about that walk down memory lane? Good. Enjoy the revival.


And revisit some important ’90s classics all this weekend during IFC’s ’90s Marathon. Check out the full schedule here.