No Thrones. No Crowns. No Kings. →
On October 18, millions of us are rising again to show the world: America has no kings, and the power belongs to the people.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
Rules: no fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
On October 18, millions of us are rising again to show the world: America has no kings, and the power belongs to the people.
Delia Cai highlights some Kathryn VanArendonk thoughts about criticism in which the latter posits two kinds of questions to ask. The work at hand is You, which I don’t watch, but I’ve stripped out the show-specific things to keep the observation general.
The first kind: Is it well-made? Does it deliver on the story the season had been building toward? Does it feel like a fitting conclusion for the previous nine episodes, are the performances good […] ? The second: Is [it] good? Beyond the storytelling and structural ideas, is it good for the world and for its viewers […] ?
This is almost verbatim how I used to describe what I thought good criticism was about. For whatever flaws Roger Ebert had, he used to do something similar on his show with Gene Siskel: he’d often explain if the thing was well-made and/or at least succeeded in what it sought to do (since even poorly-made movies technically can succeed in their goals), and he’d make a judgment on whether or not it was worth making.
I guess in a sense that’s three things—success on the work’s own terms and goals, quality of the work, and value of the work. Still, I wish more critics would function this way. Maybe they do, now, and I just don’t really read critics anymore.