Taking swipes at a film called THE CRITIC, about a theatre writer taking down the stage’s brightest stars with his cruel pen, feels like the lowest hanging fruit. Unfortunately, Anand Tucker’s film is a mean-spirited, uninspired look at London’s vibrant 1930s arts scene and the era’s correspondingly volatile times.
Jimmy Erskine (Ian McKellen) is the most feared critic in 1936 London, capable of making and, more often, breaking productions and performers with his reviews. While his personal life is ahead of its time – he lives semi-openly with his secretary-turned-partner Tom Tunner (Alfred Enoch) – he justifies writing for the right-wing The Daily Chronicle by saying its readers pay well (a justification and thorny issue familiar in 2024). But when David Brooke (Mark Strong) takes over the paper, Erskine sees his job on the chopping block – not least because of the vitriol he reserves for Nina Land (Gemma Arterton), one of Brooke’s favourite actresses.
Erskine seems a victim of a vendetta from this set-up, but THE CRITIC evolves into the bitterest possible version of itself. As Land reels off Erskine’s inconsistent criticisms of her person and performance, Erskine appears less a powerful truth-teller and arbiter of quality than a vindictive, pugilistic hack. A key plot development seems primed to discredit the entire #MeToo movement – a baffling, possibly even irresponsible, choice that feels artificially contrived to move the plot forward rather than comment on the sometimes-desperate ways artists cosy up to the moneyed and influential for vital patronage.
“THE CRITIC…never meaningfully engages with censorship or destruction of the expressive arts and journalism. This misstep leaves a bad taste in a film about the theatre and the press.”
Encroaching fascism is an undercurrent of this pre-World War II drama, and Erskine’s and Tunner’s relationship puts them both in the crosshairs of racists and homophobes. THE CRITIC, however, only superficially explores that physical violence and never meaningfully engages with censorship or destruction of the expressive arts and journalism. This misstep leaves a bad taste in a film about the theatre and the press.
Historical or literary accuracy is not required in fiction, an art form often enhanced by creative flights of fancy. But THE CRITIC purports to be a film about and for a theatrical crowd and makes little effort to match its stage excerpts with historical performance practice or even use the correct play. Early in the film, Erskine scolds Annabel (Lyndsay Duncan) for lumping the plays of Christopher Marlowe (Elizabethan) and John Webster (Jacobean) together. However, midway through the film, Land performs Phoebe’s monologue from Shakespeare’s As You Like It out of context, in a modern dress romance. It could be a bold and thematically questionable reimagining of As You Like It, recasting the rustic shepherdess as a society woman. Still, it feels like a lazy choice that undercuts any sense of expertise and confidence on the creative team’s part.
“McKellen and Duncan make the most of emotional beats, but dialogue often leadenly passes from person to person in a pastiche of British propriety.”
Another failing of THE CRITIC is the lack of joy it takes in archaic, “old-fashioned” modes of theatre. These might seem stuffy to today’s audiences, but they were adored and adulated by audiences of their time. STAGE BEAUTY, Richard Eyre’s 2004 look at the transition to women actors on stage in Restoration England, is a fantastic example of a film that explores the changing theatrical mores of its time in an approachable, digestible, loving way for contemporary audiences. THE CRITIC can only manage smugness.
McKellen, Strong, Arterton, Ben Barnes, Duncan, and Enoch have proved their acting talents in varied and versatile careers on stage and screen. But here, they are painfully wooden. McKellen and Duncan make the most of emotional beats, but dialogue often leadenly passes from person to person in a pastiche of British propriety.
In 2024, the threat of fascism to the arts and the press is omnipresent. THE CRITIC approaches a dynamic historical era whose high stakes parallel today’s with a dearth of imagination and humanity. It looks handsome, but its heart is hollow.