ReportWire

Tag: critics

  • Some Other Critics Didn’t Love Taylor Swift’s New Album Either – Here’s Why! – Perez Hilton

    Some Other Critics Didn’t Love Taylor Swift’s New Album Either – Here’s Why! – Perez Hilton

    Over the past few days we’ve seen some of the ugliest side effects of fans’ devotion to Taylor SwiftPaste magazine literally kept its music critic’s name secret because they were afraid of the danger the poor person might be in for trashing her new album. They didn’t think The Tortured Poets Department was good, now they have to be protected like a juror from Trump’s scary followers? That’s awful.

    The truth is, not everyone is always going to agree on art — and that’s OK! In fact, plenty of reviewers weren’t just gushing about TTPD. Several gave it mixed or even mixed-negative reviews overall.

    Related: Taylor Shouts Out The Most Positive Reviews

    We thought maybe in light of the theoretical response to that one harsh review, we’d take a look at some of the others to prove that point. So what did some critics take issue with? Let’s take a look:

    NME

    NME gave the album 3 out of 5 stars, calling it “a rare misstep” for Tay. Ouch, right?

    Reviewer Laura Molloy calls TTPD “a knottier, if inferior, sequel to Midnights” which is “mostly devoid of any noticeable stylistic shift or evolution.” She writes:

    “It mostly descends into a monochromatic palette, existing in the same Jack Antonoff-branded synth pop as Midnights, yet struggling to capture any of its brightness.”

    Molloy makes a point of praising Taylor’s lyrics generally before says this album bucks the trend and “delivers some of her most cringe-inducing lines yet.” She calls out the title track’s already infamous:

    “You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate / We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist / I scratch your head, you fall asleep / Like a tattooed golden retriever.”

    She didn’t even like what Taylor was doing with But Daddy I Love Him, singling out the lines:

    “These people only raise you to cage you… God save the most judgemental creeps/Who say they want what’s best for me”

    We imagine those are plenty of fans’ favorites on the whole damn album! Like we said, people are going to disagree on art! As it ever was. And again, that’s OK!

    Pitchfork

    Pitchfork is always hard to please, so 6.6 out of 10 may feel like condemning Taylor as mediocre — but it’s not shocking either. Writer Olivia Horn blames the “burden of expectation” — speculating Tay went ham to fill the “widening gap between Taylor Swift the artist and Taylor Swift the phenomenon” with “a firehose of material.”

    Horn’s evaluation seems to be that Taylor wasn’t precious enough and should have adhered to that old writing rule, kill your darlings. She says TTPD is “conspicuously wanting for an editor”:

    “She piles the metaphors on thick, throws stuff at the wall even after something has stuck, picks up the things that didn’t stick and uses them anyway.”

    Horn seems to feel the album is more miss than hit as a result. She mostly is unimpressed with everything that’s so familiar, especially musically — though she calls out But Daddy I Love Him as fresh and exciting and “reaching flights of fantasy unlike anything else on this album.”

    The New Yorker

    The New Yorker‘s review calls the album “too long and too familiar.” We’re sensing the pattern here.

    Writer Amanda Petrusich calls out the lyrics like NME did, also singling out the Charlie Puth line, calling it “one of the weirdest verses of Swift’s career.” She goes on to say:

    “Even the greatest poets whiff a phrase now and then, but a lot of the language on the record is either incoherent (“I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic”) or just generally bewildering (“Florida is one hell of a drug”).”

    Petrusich does point out lyrics she loves though, like:

    “Now I’m down bad, crying at the gym / Everything comes out teen-age petulance / F**k it if I can’t have him.”

    That was a line Molloy couldn’t get her head around, either! Like we said, it’s all subjective! Again, THAT IS OK! Honestly, it’s even great! You can’t expect something to 100% hit home with one person without getting a little bit further away from a listener with very different life experiences.

    The New York Times

    The New York Times‘ Lindsay Zoladz says some of TTPD is “a return to form” but as it goes on “Swift’s lyricism starts to feel unrestrained, imprecise and unnecessarily verbose.” She references the art form Taylor has embraced as evidence of why it doesn’t work very well — poetry. She explains:

    Sylvia Plath once called poetry ‘a tyrannical discipline,’ because the poet must ‘go so far and so fast in such a small space; you’ve got to burn away all the peripherals.’ Great poets know how to condense, or at least how to edit. The sharpest moments of The Tortured Poets Department would be even more piercing in the absence of excess, but instead the clutter lingers, while Swift holds an unlit match.”

    It seems overwhelmingly those who didn’t love the album are of a similar way of thinking — in releasing so many tracks, Taylor seemingly didn’t narrow it down to the best she was capable of. It sounds like they think we got something like the assembly cut — the unedited version of a movie with all the footage before it gets tightened up and made to work as a real piece of solid entertainment. They all feel like it’s hit and miss, maybe at too low a quotient. Like a mediocre SNL episode.

    These are all painstakingly well-considered reviews by good writers. But importantly they don’t consistently agree on what the hits and misses are. So again, there’s no need to read these reviews as attacks. Everyone is just giving you their take! So take away what you can from the reviews, let it help solidify your opinion whether in agreement or disagreement. It’s all part of the experience of a new piece of art, y’all! Enjoy!

    [Image via Taylor Swift/YouTube.]

    Perez Hilton

    Source link

  • gruesome elderly dispensable

    gruesome elderly dispensable

    gruesome elderly dispensable. I'm very drunk and decided to rewatch Avatar after watching nostalgia critics review of the shamaylan movie I had sucj a crush on

    gruesome elderly dispensable. I'm very drunk and decided to rewatch Avatar after watching nostalgia critics review of the shamaylan movie I had sucj a crush on

    gruesome elderly dispensable. I'm very drunk and decided to rewatch Avatar after watching nostalgia critics review of the shamaylan movie I had sucj a crush on

    gruesome elderly dispensable. I'm very drunk and decided to rewatch Avatar after watching nostalgia critics review of the shamaylan movie I had sucj a crush on

    gruesome elderly dispensable. I'm very drunk and decided to rewatch Avatar after watching nostalgia critics review of the shamaylan movie I had sucj a crush on

    I’m very drunk and decided to rewatch Avatar after watching nostalgia critics review of the shamaylan movie I had sucj a crush on Katara as a kid imagine ypr a 12 year old boy stuck in a ball of ice for 100 years and the first thing you see after waking up is a cute brown skin girl staring you practically nose to nose in the face boner

    Source link

  • Reservation Dogs Star Devery Jacobs Wasn’t a Fan of ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’

    Reservation Dogs Star Devery Jacobs Wasn’t a Fan of ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’

    Not everyone is a fan of Martin Scorsese‘s latest film. In a long thread on X (the site formerly known as Twitter), Reservation Dogs star Devery Jacobs wrote about her “strong feelings” about Killers of the Flower Moon, calling the film “painful, grueling, unrelenting and unnecessarily graphic.”

    X content

    This content can also be viewed on the site it originates from.

    Jacobs, an Indigenous Canadian actress, starred in FX’s critically acclaimed, recently wrapped comedy, which follows four Indigenous teenagers on a reservation in Oklahoma. Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon is about members of the Osage Nation that were murdered in 1920s Oklahoma, and stars Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert DeNiro, and Lily Gladstone. The film opened on Friday October 20 and won the weekend box office, earning $44 million and cementing its status as a serious Oscar contender

    “Being Native, watching this movie was fucking hellfire,” wrote Jacobs. “Imagine the worst atrocities committed against yr ancestors, then having to sit thru a movie explicitly filled w/ them, w/ the only respite being 30min long scenes of murderous white guys talking about/planning the killings.”

    Jacobs also showered praise on fellow Indigenous actress Gladstone, calling her “an absolute legend” and saying that she played the role of Mollie Burkhart, DiCaprio’s Native wife, with “tremendous grace.” “All the incredible Indigenous actors were the only redeeming factors of this film,” she wrote. “Give Lily her goddamn Oscar.”

    But while she celebrated Gladstone’s performance, Jacobs said that the other Indigenous characters “felt painfully underwritten, while the white men were given way more courtesy and depth.” She went on to criticize Scorsese’s use of violence in the film against Native characters. “I don’t feel that these very real people were shown honor or dignity in the horrific portrayal of their deaths,” she wrote. “Contrarily, I believe that by showing more murdered Native women on screen, it normalizes the violence committed against us and further dehumanizes our people.”

    In the thread, Jacobs admitted that Scorsese’s “technical direction is compelling,” and said that seeing a big-budget drama about Native people “a sight to behold.” Still, Jacobs was firm in her belief that Killers of the Flower Moon contributed to the relentless persecution of Indigenous people on screen. “I can’t believe it needs to be said, but Indig ppl exist beyond our grief, trauma & atrocities,” she wrote. “Our pride for being Native, our languages, cultures, joy & love are way more interesting & humanizing than showing the horrors white men inflicted on us.” 

    Chris Murphy

    Source link

  • What’s the One Book That Explains American Politics Today?

    What’s the One Book That Explains American Politics Today?

    On November 8, as in any election season, voters will be asked to weigh in on issues such as inflation, crime, and gas prices. Battling for their attention are loaded cultural debates over the end of Roe v. Wade and what children should learn in school. But this is no normal midterm cycle: Few American elections in recent memory have been as threatened by the specter of political violence and democratic dissolution as this one. Last week, a man attacked Nancy Pelosi’s husband with a hammer in the couple’s San Francisco home; Donald Trump’s false claim that he was the rightful victor of the 2020 presidential election continues to cast a long shadow over the integrity of the democratic process; hundreds of candidates who deny the legitimacy of Joe Biden’s election will appear on ballots.

    Ahead of the midterms, Atlantic staff and contributors are offering reading suggestions for what feel like unprecedented times. Some of their choices are works of history; others lie more in the realm of theory; some deal with other countries’ systems. But each contains wisdom or insight on a central question: How do we understand the state of American politics today?


    Princeton University Press

    Spin Dictators, by Sergei Guriev and Daniel Treisman

    At first glance, Spin Dictators might not seem relevant to U.S. elections. The book describes new forms of dictatorship based not on fear or terror, but on manipulating media and undermining democratic institutions. To create a mass following, these new dictators set one part of society against another, exacerbating polarization and mutual distrust. Instead of establishing an old-fashioned, top-down cult of personality, they borrow from the entertainment world to build their popularity, relying on their followers to create memes and merchandise celebrating them. Guriev and Treisman’s examples are drawn from places such as Russia, Venezuela, Singapore, and Kazakhstan, but they could be writing about some American politicians too. U.S. voters will find it useful to read this book and then ask themselves whether any of the candidates in their local senatorial or gubernatorial race have explicitly adopted the language and tactics originally created by modern autocrats. Anne Applebaum


    The cover of The Age of Reform
    Anchor

    The Age of Reform, by Richard Hofstadter

    History can’t fully explain the present or predict the future, but it can help us understand the patterns of contemporary politics and the likely paths ahead. In 1955, Hofstadter, one of the great American historians of the 20th century, published The Age of Reform—a political and social history of the years 1890 to 1940, the period of populism, progressivism, and the New Deal. Rapid technological change, monopoly power, deep inequality, endemic corruption, mass immigration, nativist demagogues, the transformation of both political parties, repeated efforts at reform, recurring spasms of reaction: Perhaps no other age so resembles our own. Hofstadter is brilliant at analyzing types that feel quite familiar to us today—the crusading urban progressive, the small-town conspiracy theorist. He was a liberal who sympathized with the passion for progress while unsentimentally diagnosing its illiberal ideas and motives. The fevered moralism of that age seems a long way from the paralyzing cynicism of ours. But reading Hofstadter will remind you that reform and reaction not only follow each other, but also often coexist in the same moment; neither ever has the last word. Americans are always dreaming of a better country, and some have actually made it so. — George Packer


    The cover of One Mighty and Irresistible Tide
    W. W. Norton & Co.

    One Mighty and Irresistible Tide, by Jia Lynn Yang

    Our broken immigration system has been a favorite topic of Republicans on the stump during this midterm-election cycle. But many voters are struggling to understand how Congress has failed for decades to fix it, particularly when the fate of Dreamers—people who were brought to the United States illegally as children—has been unresolved for more than 10 years, and there is nothing to prevent a future president from reviving the use of family separation as an enforcement tactic. One Mighty and Irresistible Tide provides some helpful explanations by tracing another fraught period in history. Yang, who heads The New York Times’ national desk, vividly profiles key figures, such as the New York Representative Emanuel Celler, in the 40-year battle to repeal the ethnic quotas signed into law in 1924. Celler’s steady fight finally ended in 1965, during the civil-rights movement. It makes an implicit case that the moment some in Congress today seem to be waiting for—one where a universal consensus can be established, and reforming the system carries no political risk—will never come, and that challenging fearmongering rhetoric about immigrants remains as important as ever. — Caitlin Dickerson


    The cover of Devil's Bargain
    Penguin Press

    Devil’s Bargain, by Joshua Green

    How did extremism move from the outer edge of our discourse to the very center of our politics? In the final days before yet another existential election, I’m revisiting Devil’s Bargain. Green, a former senior editor at The Atlantic, was among the first journalists to recognize the unique threat that Steve Bannon posed to the future of the American experiment. Devil’s Bargain chronicles Bannon’s journey from Goldman Sachs to the inner workings of then-candidate Donald Trump’s head. It also illustrates the many ways in which influential money moves around right-wing circles and shapes our democracy. Some critics have accused Green of overstating Bannon’s influence, but five years after the book’s publication, Bannon is neither gone nor forgotten. Although he ultimately served less than a year in Trump’s White House, he was the eventual recipient of a presidential pardon. Last month, he was sentenced to four months in prison for a different offense—defying a subpoena from the January 6 committee. His old boss, meanwhile, appears to be preparing to retake the White House. — John Hendrickson


    The cover of Public Opinion
    Free Press

    Public Opinion, by Walter Lippmann

    One of the best things you can say about Lippmann’s 1922 classic is also one of the worst things you can say about this moment: Public Opinion, at 100, has never been more relevant. Lippmann’s study of the human mind and the body politic, produced in the aftermath of World War I, analyzes the impact of a new mass-media system—on government, on news, on “the pictures in our heads.” It applies the lessons of psychology, then a nascent field, to electoral politics. It warns of how easily propaganda, that evasive weapon of war, can become banal. The book created a lasting lexicon: Lippmann coined stereotype as a category of thought; he discussed mediums and “pseudo-environments” long before other thinkers would expand the concepts; he observed the totalizing power of narrative decades before postmodernists would simulate that idea. Public Opinion saturates political discourse so completely that its insights, today, might seem obvious. In truth, they are ominous. Democracy is the work of minds made manifest; how will it proceed when “the pictures in our heads” are blurred by lies? — Megan Garber


    The cover of Crabgrass Frontier
    Credit

    Crabgrass Frontier, by Kenneth T. Jackson

    Jackson’s 1985 work, Crabgrass Frontier, is beloved by urban historians, and it underscores how novel America’s urban geography really is. Prior to 1815, Jackson writes, the suburbs were exactly that—the outlying area of the city, “in every way inferior to the core.” Over the next two centuries, a reversal of fortunes would make single-family homes in peripheral communities crucial to the American Dream. This change reflected and reinforced a new way of life—one where work, home, and play were cleaved from one another; where privacy and the nuclear family became fundamental; and where races and classes were physically separated. The political ramifications remain, visible in the stark differences in the quality of public services in cities and suburbs. Entrenched low-density homeownership has been a primary driver in the segregation that continues to define American life. Ahead of momentous elections, Crabgrass Frontier is a potent reminder that what’s built in one era shapes the next. We are living in a present constructed by people who could never have imagined our lives. As the nation faces an inflection point—a startling shortage of housing, and a dearth of renewable-energy and mass-transit infrastructure, all in the face of climate emergency—what policy makers build today will determine the fate of our descendants.  — Jerusalem Demsas


    The cover of The Man Who Ran Washington
    Vintage

    The Man Who Ran Washington, by Peter Baker and Susan Glasser

    James Baker is no longer a power player in Washington. The former secretary of state’s  influence peaked during the presidencies of Ronald Reagan and George H. W. Bush, two leaders whom the Trump wing of the Republican Party has all but renounced. Yet the journalists Baker (unrelated) and Glasser show that Baker, despite thinking himself above the fray, is not so out of place in Donald Trump’s GOP after all. Baker, now 92, wants to be remembered as a statesman, not as a campaign operative. But his most durable legacy might be his contributions to a party whose zeal for winning and holding power at nearly any cost has overtaken its commitment to ideology and principle. The authors smartly frame Baker’s story around his late-in-life struggle over whether to vote for Trump, a man he plainly can’t stand personally or politically. But Baker, clinging to the hope that even in his late 80s he might stay relevant in Washington, ultimately chose party loyalty. He appears now as more of a precursor to our fraught political moment than a throwback to a more genteel one. — Russell Berman


    ​​When you buy a book using a link on this page, we receive a commission. Thank you for supporting The Atlantic.

    Emma Sarappo

    Source link