Intro
Finding your favorite films and books and music is, at its core, a search problem, and one that I think the current "everyone's a critic and anyone can talk to anyone" landscape of the Internet lends itself to well. And Metacritic and RottenTomatoes have done more than their fair share in really cluing into critical consensus.
But there's something different between "high quality" and "favorite" and I think the current landscape, taken at face value, doesn't necessarily work to the advantage of either the discerning connoisseur or the consumer looking for consistently above-average quality. I think a lot of the problem (as I'll outline it) starts with the rating systems we use.
Problem
Okay, so reviews of books and albums and TV shows always tend to focus on a general level of quality. "Five stars", "B+", "8 out of 10" and so on. You feel me? I know you feel me, son.
The point being is that most reviews - even the most abstract and interpretive - tend to answer in the negative or the affirmative whether a cultural product is worth your time or worth your money with respect to the marketplace. In other words, the essential appeal made a review is: "Assuming you're willing to spend 20 bucks on a book, this is a pretty damn good/mediocre/poor book to spend it on if you compare it to all the new releases I've read. I feel this way because it's <list of reasons for this opinion>, which should inform whether you the read will agree with me. "
Which is quite alright. It's nice to have a consumer guide that also doubles as personal interpretation, critique, and analysis. There's nothing wrong with this.
And yet, we live in the age where occasionally something will garner (and the Internet will document) "universal acclaim by critics". You see this with shows like Breaking Bad and The Wire. I was looking over reviews for "Nothing Was the Same" after writing my own yesterday, and while there were a few "this is a defining album" reviews, most of the reviews were "What a neat album! Drake is sure doing his job!" In other words, it was adequate, it was competent, it was state-of-the-art, it was soulful, it was such and such and if you like hip-hop or R&B, you will probably at least enjoy a listen.
And my problem with "universal acclaim" and average treatments of quality is that, well, personally, I will probably never listen to "Nothing Was the Same" ever again. It's apparently a major release, it's apparently quite good (and I can see where critics are coming from), but here's the thing: At no point in listening to that album did the thought ever cross my mind: "This might be my favorite album of all time." What I'm saying is... it was a low-risk, medium-reward album. We talk about Drake taking risks, going further and all that. But the bottom line is, an established artist released a typical album that drew and deserved passable acclaim, hit all the marks, and with the exceptions for a few diehards, no one's artistic worldview is changed, no one's hitting spiritual notes they might never have without the album. Ironically, nothing was not the same for me after listening to "Nothing Was the Same". It's a good album which hinges on your alignment with its aesthetic. And that's all that it is. And that's alright. But... for me? I get almost nothing out of having listened to that album, and while that's fine, it also means that I could have switched to most other albums I've considered listening to and ended up better off. Maybe that's arrogant, but what does an inoffensive movie really buy me (or anyone) in the grand scheme of things? Two hours passed well, but two hours forgotten in a few days. I don't know. A great, ambitious, sprawling film promises a lifetime of enjoyment and is precisely the candidate for being missed by a critic that's trying to see things analytically or in the shoes of a proverbial Pete from Peoria.
For situations where a bad movie isn't going to ruin my night, ambition is its own reward because it creates the possibility of transcendence. For situations where a bad movie is (like going out to a theater)? I'd much rather have less ambition in films because it creates the possibility of awfulness.
In a sentence: Ambition is punished in some cases and wildly rewarded in others, all pretty arbitrarily, even though some people and some situations get positive or negative utility in ambition itself.
Solution
And so that's the lead-in to my (speculative) idea: Reviewers ought to consider risk (and not just reward) as part of their ratings. And review aggregation sites such as RottenTomatoes and Metacritic might just want to include polarization and variance as part of the equation. If I spend 20 dollars in a theater or getting something to watch with other people? To my mind, personally, I feel that the spent money makes me more risk-averse. If I am renting, downloading, or streaming something? I actually want risk, and I might trade above-average and low-risk for average reward on a high-risk gamble. Even if it means watching "Magnolia" one night (as Homer Simpson might say, "that's bad" [Sorry Connor! It just didn't work for me!]). Because, see, this is how risk works, it means I'll watch "In Bruges" another night ("that's good"). When you take risks you get burnt more, but you also get the unforgettable cultural products that make our lives a little more bearable. And I'll take getting burnt once awhile as part of the fun of the search (besides, it's usually a lot funnier and easier to shut off if you haven't paid a 10-spot just for the seat, heh). And I'll pay for my preference for ambition, sure, by missing out on a really decent "Nothing Was the Same" here and there. But in return, I'm gambling that I'll get more of the unforgettable gems.
Note:
If you hear what I'm saying, then maybe you want to know what I've done myself to leverage risk in (for example) films.
- With some exception, I don't ever listen to someone that says a film was merely good or bad. I much prefer critics' year-end lists and your friend or acquaintance's absolute favorite film (doesn't matter how well you know them). See, because something has to be excellent to someone to get on those rarefied lists. It can't just be good-but-forgettable - it has to really move someone. A lot of times I feel I have to dig deeper than the year-end lists and read the review itself, because critics will leave off films perceived as being inferior in general quality even if the films they left off spoke to them more.
- I largely ignore claims about cultural relevance that aren't based on empirical success. Critics often times like to make broad, sweeping generalizations (cf. this sentence) about people and taste. And here's the thing, they don't really know what is going to stick... a lot of times they're coming from misleading analogies of experience - "this is a good Western and Americans love a good Western" type things that ignore little tiny matters like "hey, this film has no soul, and soul is a big reason people like films in the first place!".
- I don't really care about a critic's expectations - the expectations a critic forms in the presence of immensely more domain knowledge than their readers is pretty much irrelevant. But it can shed light on "shallow" works that are anything but, with a little extra effort.
There you have it; part of my personal solution to the search problem. Take it or leave it. You made the decision. Live with your decision.
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