Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Review: The Master (2012)



Hard Eight, Boogie Nights, Magnolia, Punch-Drunk Love, There Will Be Blood, and now The Master. Paul Thomas Anderson is yet to make a bad film. OK, I haven't seen Hard Eight, but I'm willing to bet it's a respectable directorial debut. The Master is arguably his most challenging film to date. It is not a film that is made to appease the masses and rake in the big bucks. It is the type of film a director crafts from his or her passion, and handles with the utmost care and affection. What I'm saying is that a film like The Master is not easy to make. It not only requires great technical knowledge, but also a heap of emotional maturity, and at age 42, many would argue that Anderson is a precocious talent. Some would dismiss this as "peaking too early," but there's nothing to suggest Anderson can't keep this up. 


The Master traces the life of Freddie Quell (Joaquin Phoenix) in a post-World War II America. Freddie is a naval veteran from the war, and is burdened with post-traumatic stress disorder, alcoholism, and an insatiable appetite for sex. He struggles to adjust to post-war life, but finds comfort in Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman), leader of 'The Cause'—a cult-like philosophical movement. Adherents of 'The Cause' spread their teachings across the East Coast of the United States, but tensions rise when Lancaster's wife, Peggy (Amy Adams), grows dissatisfied with Freddie's erratic behaviour. This puts the relationship between Freddie and Lancaster on shaky ground, and prompts a lot of introspection from Freddie. 

Several parallels have been drawn between The Cause and Scientology, including Hoffman's physical resemblance to L. Ron Hubbard and the various methods of pseudoscience that are employed. Personally, I don't give much credence to this analogy, but even if I did, that would not be my primary focus. I think The Master is about the frailty of the post-war mind and the fusion of paranoia and optimism that permeated the United States in the 1950s. The focus should not be on The Cause, but rather on its effects (pardon the pun). 

This film has so many strengths that I could not possibly list them all. The most essential element of the film is the performance from Phoenix. Here is an actor whose personal life has come under much scrutiny in recent years, and you get the sense he used Freddie as a channel for catharsis. Phoenix's performance calls to mind that of Daniel Day-Lewis in Anderson's There Will Be Blood, or Tim Robbins' in Mystic River. Freddie is a man who so desperately needs something to cling to, and he gambles on The Cause because it provides him with purpose, something that came inherently during his days of naval service. In some ways, his dilemma is similar to that of Alex DeLarge in A Clockwork Orange. Both characters are forced to live in environments that do not complement their instincts, and both are looking for a cure. Unsurprisingly, Hoffman is magnificent as Lancaster Dodd, always filling the frame with a formidable screen presence. He has now been in all of Anderson's films except for There Will Be Blood, so it is no wonder that Anderson can draw a great performance from him, not that he would need much prompting. The Master is majestically shot in 65mm film—the first fictional film to be shot this way since Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet in 1996. Mihai Malaimare Jr.'s cinematography is captivating, and every frame is crafted with immense care. Jonny Greenwood's score captures the underlying unease amongst members of The Cause and the wider community.


While The Master is a very good film, it didn't completely satisfy me. It is an emotionally-charged film, and throughout the final act, I was preparing for a climactic scene that would allow Freddie, as well as myself, to find some peace. I thought it ended abruptly, and as a result, it left a strange taste in my mouth. I liked what I had just seen, but I felt as though the final payoff could have been more spectacular, considering the intensity of the emotions that came before it. Alas, the merit of a film's ending is often very subjective. Some people like abrupt endings, and some may even think The Master does not end abruptly. This is a personal grievance, and it shouldn't stop you from going to see the film. It's been said that this is one of the hardest films of the year to sit through. There are a few moments of stagnation and the 2+ hour running time may turn some people off. I was able to forgive the slower scenes, for what they lack in fluidity, they make up for with intriguing dialogue and a visually-compelling frame. 'The Cause' is just as alien to viewers as it is to the townsfolk in the movie, so we are practically forced to pay attention at all times. We're not only watching for entertainment. We're watching to learn. If we don't know what The Cause is about, there's no way for us to empathise with Freddie. 

If I haven't made it clear already, this film is challenging and far from light, breezy viewing. Not everyone will enjoy it, and even more people will be unable to relate to it. That said, if you're a sentient human being, this film will make you feel something. The feeling may be unidentifiable, but it's there. It is a human film, about human wants, human needs and the innate human curiosity. I'm not sure what Paul Thomas Anderson has in store for us next, but based on what he's gifted us so far, I am very excited about it.   

4/5 stars.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Review: Seven Psychopaths (2012)


Director: Martin McDonagh
Writer: Martin McDonagh

The first thing you should know about Seven Psychopaths is that it is brutal. Albeit, a lot of the violence is comical, but you may find it unpalatable if you're squeamish. This isn't a criticism of the film, but just a word of warning that this will not be for everyone. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I have not seen McDonagh's acclaimed In Bruges, so I cannot make comparisons between that film and the film in question. I have seen McDonagh's Oscar-winning short, Six Shooter, and having now seen Seven Psychopaths, it's evident to me that McDonagh is fascinated with remorseless characters and blood. It would not surprise me if one of his influences is Tarantino, as this film evoked shades of Pulp Fiction (but fell short of its greatness). 

The film's premise is a bizarre one. It's relatively easy to follow, but what happens is not conventional film fare. Colin Farrell plays Marty, a [possibly alcoholic] screenwriter who lacks inspiration to finish his screenplay, aptly entitled Seven Psychopaths. Marty's best friend, Billy (Sam Rockwell), dabbles in dog-napping, with a little help from Hans (Christopher Walken). Billy and Hans kidnap a Shih Tzu belonging to Charlie (Woody Harrelson), a local gangster. This situation provides fodder for Marty's screenplay, and makes for one really twisted movie. 


I don't think the film is a complete mess, but it does feel rather disjointed at times. I really liked the opening scene, which set the tone for the macabre series of events that would follow. Once we're acquainted with all the main characters, the film plateaus until it's revitalised in the final act. I'm still tossing up whether Seven Psychopaths is a true work of meta-fiction, or if it's merely a work of self-parody. That's probably my main problem with the film. It's too damn cryptic. Ambiguity complements a film like Mulholland Dr., where it's established early in the film that fantastical elements are at play. Where it doesn't feel natural is in a film like Seven Psychopaths, which doesn't know what it wants to be. I think it wants to be a comedy first and foremost, and if that's the case, it only just gets a passing grade. I laughed out loud several times, but it was uneasy laughter. I felt like the surrounding movie-goers would judge me for laughing, because the subject matter is just so dark. It's even more awkward as a crime film, as the characters don't have the formidable presence required to be believable bad guys. All I'm saying is, don't go into this film expecting Woody Harrelson to turn out a Pesci-esque performance as Charlie the gangster. He's good, but only as good as the screenplay allows him to be. 

As for the positives, the film features some nifty action sequences and great locations (enhanced by lovely cinematography from Ben Davis). Although the film is unsure of its tone and perhaps its intentions, this unpredictability is occasionally a virtue, and the third act was surprisingly suspenseful and fun. Christopher Walken, who never turns in a bad performance, was a pleasure to watch due to his sharp comic timing.


Seven Psychopaths is not a must-see film, and from what I've heard about In Bruges, it's probably a drop in class for McDonagh. That said, the cast is charismatic, and the story, while often quite messy (not only because of the gore), is not what you'd usually see, and is therefore interesting to follow. I guarantee you will leave the cinema very confused. If I had to describe Seven Psychopaths with one word, it would be "interesting". Too distant to love. Too clever to hate. Strange enough to admire.

3.5/5 stars.

Monday, November 5, 2012

My Aversion to Television

Maybe the title of this post is a little inaccurate. 'Aversion' makes it sound like I just cannot bear to watch TV. That's not true. I like TV, but I don't feel the need to always be watching something, in the way I watch five to seven movies per week (tame compared to some film buffs), and must always have a book going. I'm just not naturally attracted to television as a medium. I have several reasons for this, which I will detail below.

1. If you get sick of a show halfway through the series, you have to keep watching

A few years ago, I watched the first four seasons of the British Skins. I watched the first episode of season five, and I just didn't like the new cast at all. So, I stopped watching. Something similar happened with Supernatural. With that program, I didn't even tune in from the beginning. I started watching the series halfway through the first season, and watched until the end of the second series (if my memory serves me correct). When you decide to watch a television show, you're taking a gamble, and because some shows stretch on for plenty of seasons, it can be a big gamble. Of course, with a show like The Simpsons, it's different. You can pick any episode (except maybe for Who Shot Mr. Burns? Part Two) and enjoy it as its own thing. The narrative arcs aren't as developed there. But with many other shows, what happens on a weekly basis could potentially change the whole outlook for the series. You have to watch every episode, in order, to fully delight in what the program has to offer. If you suddenly get bored of a show and don't want to watch it anymore, then all the viewing that went before becomes obsolete. You watched those episodes expecting the show to build to a crescendo, but the writing suddenly became stale and now you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You wasted your time. With a film, if you get bored of it 45 minutes in, you know you only have to sit through another 45 minutes before you're free (I use a 90-minute film as an example). In that time, you can play a game on your phone or do something else to pass the time.

2. Fandoms and the pressure to conform

Not a day goes by when something related to Doctor Who doesn't flash up on my Tumblr dashboard. Of course, there's nothing wrong with fans of a show expressing their devotion to the program, but it is annoying when you have to measure your worth as a fan of a TV show by comparing your devotion to other fans. With television, subcultures emerge based on particular shows. Doctor Who devotees are Whovians; Star Trek fans are notoriously known as Trekkies. There are more, but those are the first two that came to my head. Let's say you watch Doctor Who and you like it enough to keep watching, but don't love it to the point of obsession. You may feel as though you're not worthy enough to continue watching the show, as you look around you and see fans drowning themselves in merchandise and dropping the show's jargon into everyday conversation. That's one of my main criticisms of television. Liking something is not good enough. If you watch a TV show, you have to love it. If you don't love it, you may as well not call yourself a fan at all. And yes, I know fandoms exist around films as well (most notably Star Wars), but because films and their sequels exist as single entities and seldom evolve, it's easier to get away with just liking them. When a TV show undergoes changes (such as a new Doctor in Doctor Who), you're expected to grapple with these changes and have debates with other fans. With film, you have debates about the meaning of everything, or whether the actors were cast in appropriate roles. And these dialogues are more private than those related to TV shows. The pressure to conform also involves watching things that are current. Last night, I began watching The Inbetweeners (UK). I chose that out of all the shows in the world because the premise naturally resonated with me. Many television elitists would scoff at me and say "Um, you realise that show's no longer running? Why don't you watch something that's still on air like Breaking Bad?" Well, I don't want to watch Breaking Bad because the crime genre generally bores me. Is that a superficial reason? Perhaps. I don't doubt it is a great show. I can't remember the last time a show created this much buzz. It's just that my viewing sensibilities clash with what Breaking Bad is all about. On a side note, here's my general rule: If I'm going to watch a TV series, I prefer something light and comedic, with a spot of drama to spice things up. With film, I like light stuff and dark stuff, but the dark stuff makes for more absorbing viewing. 

3. The amount of time required

One of my favourite TV shows of all time is Fawlty Towers. Some of the funniest stuff I've ever seen or heard. But I don't only like it because of its humour. I like it because there were only 12 episodes produced. Each episode runs for approximately half an hour, which means the entire series runs for about six hours. You could easily watch them all in a day (although I suggest savouring them over a week). Let's face it. It's daunting to start watching a new show when you know how long it will take you. Some people may juggle their time between TV shows. They may watch an episode of The Office in the morning, and an episode of Homeland at night. Personally, I can't do that. I can only devote myself to one TV series at a time. It's the same with books—I like to emotionally invest in one at a time. That's why I would never watch something like The West Wing. Yes, Aaron Sorkin is supposedly a god of writing, but I have practically zero interest in political dramas, and it would take me two and a half months to get through if I were to watch two episodes per day (there are 156 episodes in total). And I realise people can watch five or more episodes in a row. Many people enjoy TV marathons. I don't. Watching two consecutive episodes of The Simpsons is enough to make me get restless. I have the same issue with film. I can only watch two movies per day, and they must be hours apart. There are two reasons behind this: 1. I get sore if I sit for too long, and 2. I need time to reflect on what I have just seen. I can't just finish watching something and go straight onto something else. I like to think about what happened, and what the writer's intentions were. So, you see, I can get through five culturally important films in a week, while it would take me just over a week on average to get through one season of a TV series. 

Now you know my main reasons for shying away from television. There are some more, like how I find cliffhangers annoying, or how you can feel the full emotional impact of a film in the time it takes to watch it, but must wait till the end of a season to feel some catharsis from a TV show. I won't go into those. The three I explained above are the main ones. I should note that 'TV' as it is used in this post refers to works of fiction. I am far more lenient when it comes to game shows, documentary programs (Louis Theroux, for example) or comedic non-fiction (excuse the vague label; think The Chaser and Lawrence Leung). I can consume them far more rapidly, and I find them oddly immersive. I can assure you that I am loving The Inbetweeners so far. Sure, I'm only two episodes in, but this is right down my alley. As for the next show I'll watch, I can't guarantee what it will be. I'm thinking Parks and Recreation because of the amount of people who rave about it. It's a comedic series, so I'll probably like it. I'll end with a TV series recommendation of my own. The show is Black Mirror. This British series only contains three episodes (although a second season has been announced). Each episode deals with a different cast, setting and reality. It is absolutely remarkable and like nothing I've seen before. It's best to know as little about it as possible when you watch it, so this is where I stop.    

Thursday, November 1, 2012

October 2012 Film Wrap-Up

From now on, I will end each month with a blog post of all the films I saw in that month, accompanied by my rating out of five for each film. The films will be ordered by the date I saw them on.

OCTOBER 1
Elephant (Gus Van Sant, 2003) = 4

OCTOBER 3
Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958) = 4.5

Rear Window (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954) = 5

OCTOBER 5
Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman, 1972) = 3.5

OCTOBER 6
Zelig (Woody Allen, 1983) = 3.5

And Your Mother Too! (Alfonso Cuarón, 2001) = 5

OCTOBER 8
Some Kind of Wonderful movie poster
Some Kind of Wonderful (Howard Deutch, 1987) = 4

File:Tomboy2011.jpg
Tomboy (Céline Sciamma, 2011) = 4

OCTOBER 11
Three Colours: Blue (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1993) = 4.5

OCTOBER 12
Woody Allen: A Documentary (Robert B. Weide, 2012) = 4

OCTOBER 13
Everything Must Go (Dan Rush, 2010) = 3

Three Colours: White (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1994) = 3.5

OCTOBER 14
File:Urban Legend film.jpg
Urban Legend (Jamie Blanks, 1998) = 2.5

OCTOBER 16
Apt Pupil (Bryan Singer, 1998) = 3

OCTOBER 17
Three Colours: Red (Krzysztof Kieslowski, 1994) = 4

OCTOBER 18
To Rome with Love (Woody Allen, 2012) = 2.5

OCTOBER 19
Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (Lorene Scafaria, 2012) = 3.5

Paranormal Activity 4 (Henry Joost & Ariel Schulman, 2012) = 2.5

OCTOBER 21
Stuck on You (Peter Farrelly & Robert Farrelly, 2003) = 3

OCTOBER 22
Vincent Wants to Sea (Ralf Huettner, 2010) = 3.5

OCTOBER 25
File:Urban Legends Final Cut film.jpg
Urban Legends: Final Cut (John Ottman, 2000) = 1.5

OCTOBER 26
Goodfellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990) = 4

OCTOBER 27
File:Good Bye Lenin.jpg
Goodbye Lenin! (Wolfgang Becker, 2003) = 4.5

OCTOBER 28
The 'Burbs (Joe Dante, 1989) = 3.5

OCTOBER 29
Dogville (Lars von Trier, 2003) = 4.5

OCTOBER 30
File:CitwTeaserSmall.jpg
The Cabin in the Woods (Drew Goddard, 2011) = 3.5

THE BEST = Excluding my third-favourite film of all time, Rear Window (because I've seen it before), the best film I saw in October was And Your Mother Too! (Y tu mamá también). I bought a second-hand DVD copy from eBay on impulse, and I'm so glad I did. One of the best films about sex I have ever seen. Perhaps the best.
THE WORST = Urban Legends: Final Cut, hands down. 

Notes: I watched Vertigo and Rear Window as a double feature at the Randwick Ritz. Great night! They are the only two films I rewatched in October. To Rome with Love will go down as the first Woody Allen film I saw at a cinema, and I was disappointed by how flat and uninspired it was. It was nice to finally check out the Three Colours trilogy. Blue is my favourite. The other two were good, but didn't affect me in the same way. Dogville is an extremely challenging film, and I would put it in the must-see category. Goodfellas was a great movie, but it didn't wow me in the way it has wowed others. Elephant is an excellent high school film, but not in the traditional sense. It will shock you, and in some ways, it works as a horror film. Everything feels too real.

On Borrowed Time: The Future of Video Rental Stores

Video stores may not be the institutions of suburbia they once were, but is this a comment on how consumers feel about the contemporary state of cinema? Or, are film enthusiasts becoming slaves to modern technology that is conducive to convenience? As a resident of Smithfield in Sydney’s south-west, I have had very little luck with signing up to video stores in the past. N C Video Library at Smithfield and Boulevarde Video Library at Fairfield Heights are two independent, family-owned video stores that have been closed for at least three years. Network Video had a store at Smithfield that didn’t see out 2005, so I signed up to the new Blockbuster Video at Wetherill Park. Its tenure was about as long as Network Video—just over a year. Video Ezy and Civic Video both had stores located at Wetherill Park which are now closed. As of October 2012, there are only two big chain video stores located in the City of Fairfield: Civic Video at Fairfield and Edensor Park. I have not become a member of either store, fearing the disappointment of yet another video/DVD library sinking into obsolescence.   

In the United States, legitimate digital consumption of home entertainment accounts for less than 5 per cent of the total rental market. Digital delivery methods are not yet as pervasive in Australia, but the American data suggests that digital consumption is not the preferred viewing method among film enthusiasts. One of the reasons for this is that Australian digital movie players are not as rich in titles as the average video store. In the period from June to July 2012, there were 161 new DVD titles released into the Australian market. 55 per cent of these titles were available on services such as BigPond Movies, Quickflix and Foxtel On Demand. A common view is that, in the digital age, a trip to the video store is not worth the time or the money when movies can be downloaded illegally. However, the Australian Video Rental Retailers Association found that almost 30 per cent of the August 2012 new releases could not be located online. Hence, illegal downloads are not an infallible method of procuring films, due to a limited range and inferior audiovisual quality. Another reason video stores may be seen as the most desirable channel to rent new release movies from is that it can take at least six weeks and up to three months before a movie is available via legal download or pay TV. The film distribution hierarchy prioritises cinemas before video stores, with download portals at the tail end.

DVD vending machines are now commonplace in shopping centres around the country. The three main players in this growing industry are Hoyts Kiosk (formerly Oovie), RedRoom and MovieMate. These machines are located near places most people frequent, such as supermarkets, shopping centres and service stations. No membership fees are required, and you can collect the movies instantly, unlike mail-order services such as Quickflix. Hoyts Kiosks have a ‘rent-anywhere/return-anywhere’ policy, edging out brick-and-mortar video stores on the convenience front. On the downside, these machines just do not offer the same range available at video stores. Each Hoyts Kiosk contains between 300 and 400 titles, but all of the films are new releases. Good luck on finding a rare Krzysztof Kieslowski film from the 1980s. Also, the luxury of weekly hire associated with video stores cannot be savoured with these machines, which offer overnight hire only. Unlike snack and drink vending machines, DVD dispensers only accept credit cards, which is an indication of what demographic they are aimed towards. There are currently over 400 Hoyts Kiosks around Australia, and it is expected that another 100 will be deployed by July 2013. These machines are evidently on the rise, but whether they are preferred over traditional video stores is up to the individual, who must choose between convenience and range.

With big chain video stores closing all around the City of Fairfield, owners of independent video stores are not feeling confident that their stores will last much longer. Nineveh Video Shop at Fairfield has seen a 75 per cent drop in patrons since downloads have risen in popularity. The store exclusively stocks Arabic-language DVDs and CDs, and also operates an Internet cafe service. Rany, an employee at Nineveh Video, does not hold much hope for the survival of the humble video store. “People prefer to download because it’s easier. We convert wedding videos to DVD, and that’s almost becoming our main function,” he said. Ly Ly’s Video in Cabramatta, which trades in Cambodian DVDs and CDs, is also suffering the consequences of illegal downloads. Employee Kim has noticed a change in the customers who frequent the store. “Most of our customers belong to the older generation who don’t know how to use the new technology,” she said. She observed that people use video stores as a back-up option to downloading, and not vice versa. “When a television series is taking a while to be released online, people will come and look for the physical DVD,” she said. Like Rany at Nineveh Video, Kim thinks the days of the traditional video store are numbered. “I’ve lost a lot of young customers, and when that happens, you know the influence of digital technology is too strong,” she said. “They [video stores] will be gone very soon.”

It seems as though convenience is the main priority for the contemporary movie viewer. Downloading a film, either legally or illegally, negates the hassle of a trip to the video store. DVD vending machines are bridging the gap between video stores and downloads, but one must wonder if they too will become a relic of days gone by once digital technology tightens its stranglehold on the market. Despite the heavy influence of digital delivery platforms, there are two things that video stores cannot be faulted for: personal service and an expansive range of titles. Whether the industry can hang their hopes for longevity on these two things is something only time will tell. 

Passing Away into Obscurity: An Exploration of Death and Euphemism

A popular adage is that the only things inevitable in life are death and taxes. It is the former that will be the focus of this essay. Death is one of the few constants that has pervaded human existence since civilisation on Earth began. This is probably why there are so many linguistic variants of to die in the English language. People have always been dying, be it through natural causes, terminal illnesses, freak accidents or executions. Through this essay, I will contend that different causes of death have given rise to synonyms for to die. I will also explore the way that religion and spirituality influences the way people speak of death. Examining the use of to die as an intransitive verb is unfeasible without devoting attention to the transitive verb to kill, and I will elucidate how euphemisms for to kill reflect a broader societal treatment of death.  

Before deconstructing the socially-conditioned ways we use variations of to die, it is worth tracing the origins of these variations. Louise Pound (1936) highlights six categories that euphemistic expressions for death and dying can belong to. For the purpose of this essay, only four will be explored. The first of these is “sentimental and poetic expressions.” (Pound, 1936, p. 196). Examples include is out of his misery, laid to rest and passed away. Many expressions of this kind are derived from high literature, but some can be traced to funeral celebrants or newspaper biographers (Pound, 1936, p. 196). These expressions evoke peaceful, dignified deaths, so it can be gauged that we would use them when referring to a loved one’s death, and would rarely use it when making reference to a criminal who had been executed. A metaphor of “departure, setting out, return” (Pound, 1936, p. 197) such as gone out of the darkness into the light connotes the idea of an afterlife and generally indicates that the speaker of the utterance wants the deceased to ‘live on’ in some capacity. The second category of expressions denoted by Pound (1936, p. 198) is “flippant and slang expressions.” According to Pound (1936, p. 198), many of these phrases originated as jargon amongst groups such as college students, pioneer farmers, gangsters and playwrights. The idiomatic expression kick the bucket has unknown origins, although there are two commonly-attested theories as to how the usage came about (Ammer, 1997, p. 359). One is connected to execution by hanging, in that a bucket is kicked out from underneath a person to let them hang. The other is linked to the slaughter of pigs, as an alternative meaning of bucket is “a beam from which something may be suspended.” (Ammer, 1997, p. 359). Both of these theories involve physical suffering, so it can be deduced that most people would use the phrase kick the bucket only when speaking about people they dislike, or when a specific register caters for informality. Many of the expressions synonymous with to die are derived from fields of work and recreation (Pound, 1936, p. 199). For example, cashed his cheques refers to the work of a bank teller, while his race is run is a term commonly used in sports commentary (Pound, 1936 p. 199). The fact that such expressions have been lifted from certain registers and applied to wider society is a testament to the ubiquity of death. It could also be that people use such euphemisms because work and recreation are so instrumental in the lives of humans, who want to think of death as a process rather than as a sudden stop. A multitude of terms have been sourced from methods of capital punishment, including hanging, lynching and electrocution (Pound, 1936, p. 200). Examples such as go up a tree and fry are “grim in their playfulness and often only too pictorial.” (Pound, 1936, p. 200). Hence, these expressions would be used to describe violent, visceral deaths, and could not be used figuratively in reference to the death of someone with a terminal illness, for instance.

Many euphemisms for to die are used exclusively in religious registers, as death is intrinsically associated with the notion of an afterlife. Just as faith alleviates the fear of death harboured by some people, death euphemisms “kill death by robbing it of its direct and threatening name.” (Neaman & Silver, as cited in Corr, Nabe & Corr, 2012, p. 96). When explaining death to a child, a religious explanation can help elucidate the biological process of dying (Talwar, Harris & Schleifer, 2011, p. 107). The death of a grandparent can be described biologically: “Grandpa’s heart stopped beating,” and this can be cushioned by “Grandpa’s spirit is in heaven, now.” Doing this establishes the finality of death, while offering a way for the child to assign meaning to the loved one’s death. The influence of religious thought on language about death is highly evident when we consider the amount of euphemisms for to die that imply the passing of the soul into another place. As previously mentioned, Louise Pound (1936, pp. 197-198) highlights several metaphors of “departure, setting out, return”. Many of these presuppose the existence of a higher deity or an afterlife. The phrase gone to meet their Maker connotes that the soul of the deceased is conscious. Gone to the Great Beyond calls to mind an idyllic paradise—a place that is perhaps greater than Earth. Expressions such as these must be used with discretion. If a Christian attempted to console an atheist about a deceased relative by saying “Don’t be sad. He has gone to meet his Maker,” the atheist is likely to be offended.  Faith-based euphemisms for to die are most appropriate when uttered by a person who personally knows the deceased. An obituary is one such context where religious euphemisms for to die are common. Vicki Oliver examined 100 obituaries from The Times and the Daily Telegraph in an effort to discover how people depict death, linguistically (Stockwell, 2002, pp. 30-31). She discovered that only 25 of the 100 obituaries featured the word ‘died’. The only conceptual metaphor used was life is a battle, referring to a baby who had “sadly lost her battle”. Thus, talking about death is a “critical discourse moment”, or a “taboo area that needs to be linguistically negotiated.” (Stockwell, 2002, p. 31). By using a religious euphemism, some of death’s potency is relieved. Rather than ceasing to exist, a person is said to “pass” into another realm.

Having examined the multitude of words and phrases synonymous with to die, it is worth exploring the sociolinguistic variations associated with the transitive verb to kill. The deliberate ending of a life is, by nature, more horrific and shameful than a natural death, which is why euphemisms are abundant when speaking of killing. Gerry Abbott (2010) writes that the gangster films of his youth were laden with euphemistic terms for killing, such as wasting, putting away, snuffing out, bumping off and taking for a ride. These expressions would have assisted the dramatisation of the films, while dehumanising the characters who were being killed. By utilising these terms, the screenwriters position the viewer to side with the murderers. Euphemisms for to kill do not only pervade the world of fiction. They are especially common in masking the harsh realities of warfare. During the Cold War, prisoners were silenced, sidelined and liquidated (Abbott, 2010). A defining aspect of the Cold War is that it never featured any direct military action, and was characterised by prolonged tension. Thus, such euphemisms were consistent with the non-violence associated with the war. In wars where armed conflict is at the fore, the euphemisms become more purposeful and more widespread. The neologism Nukespeak was coined by Paul Chilton, and is used to “promote the goals and objectives of those who support the development and deployment of nuclear arms.” (Elliot & Reginald, 2007, p. 205). Nukespeak attempts to familiarise the realities of nuclear warfare, and is complete with grammatical rules and specialised metaphors. Abbott (2010) takes exception to the use of this language, as he believes it “attempts to obfuscate military actions, to hide their mistakes and to excuse the perpetrators.” The euphemism ethnic cleansing is controversial because the verb cleanse has pleasant connotations which contradict the gruesome act of slaughtering civilians (Abbott, 2010). It is a deliberate, calculated action, and thus the term has no place outside the context of persecution. A euphemism that has crept into conventional use is weapons of mass destruction, used to describe bombs and missiles which have the power to obliterate large populations and structures at once. Once again, Abbott (2010) decries the proliferation of Nukespeak, arguing that destruction is generally associated with inanimate objects, which positions us to disregard the numerous civilian deaths involved in warfare. In a similar way, we seldom mention the ‘killing’ of pets. They are either put down or destroyed (Abbott, 2010). An interesting consideration is that, upon a cursory glance, destroy seems almost dysphemistic, as opposed to euphemistically comforting. Further examination prompts the realisation that the destruction of a pet, or of any living creature, creates a psychological disconnect between the killer and the animal or person being killed. By destroying a living entity, the entity is dehumanised (and not necessarily deprived of life), constricting the potential for empathy. While the connotations of individual expressions may differ, it stands that most euphemisms related to death reflexively imply a foundation that was taken away. That is, we cannot lose someone if they were never living to begin with (Corr et al., 2012).   

Fundamentally, death is still a taboo in our society. Despite the fact that people die each day, it is a human trait to avoid unpleasant matters by talking about them figuratively. Hence, euphemisms are utilised to strip death of its gravity. Many of the terms analogous with to die were sourced from professions and execution methods, and have been recontextualised for common use by wider society. Faith and religion have greatly influenced the way we talk about dying, and have inspired many of the poetic and sentimental expressions synonymous with to die. Just as we use euphemisms to talk about dying, the act of killing is also softened, and this reflects a human anxiety over mortality. 

References
Abbott, G. (2010). Dying and killing: Euphemisms in current English. English Today. 26(4),
51-52.
Ammer, C. (1997). The American heritage dictionary of idioms. Boston, Massachusetts:
Houghton Mifflin.              
Corr, C. A., Nabe, C. M., & Corr, D. M. (2012). Death and dying, life and living. Belmont,
California: Wadsworth. 
Elliot, J. M., & Reginald, R. (2007). The arms control, disarmament, and military security
dictionary. Santa Barbara, California: ABC-Clio.
Pound, L. (1936). American euphemisms for dying, death, and burial: An anthology.
American Speech. 11(3), 195-202.
Stockwell, P. (2002). Sociolinguistics: A resource book for students. London: Routledge.
Talwar, V., Harris, P. L., & Schleifer, M. (2011). Children’s understanding of death: From
biological to religious conceptions. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Leeching Off the Critics: The Diagnosis for Film Criticism in the Digital Age

Ever since the formation of the motion picture industry in the early 20th century, there has been a role for film critics. Early critics were in charge of setting the precedent for the profession, or, in the words of Alistair Cooke (as cited in Miller, 2012), could “define the movies with no more misgivings than Aristotle defined tragedy.” Over time, film criticism emerged as a respected journalistic pursuit and became entrenched in popular culture through the work of critics such as Pauline Kael, Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert. The advent of the Internet has signalled a shift in the traditional model of film criticism. Now, films can be downloaded illegally on peer-to-peer file sharing protocols such as BitTorrent. This means that anyone with an Internet connection can download a film before a qualified critic attends a screening of it. The immediacy of this technology places film critics at risk of becoming redundant, as people may be less inclined to read a review if they are not being charged to watch a film. The rise of online film criticism has created much conjecture over the validity of published content, considering plenty of it is unpaid and independently-produced. It is worth considering if a tweet is as informative as a review, and if top 10 lists are as newsworthy as thorough analysis. This golden age of citizen journalism could spell the death of print critics, as those looking for an opinion of a film can wade through a morass of online content without having to peruse the Sunday paper.

Traditionally, film critics who work in print are paid to see and critique a movie just before it is released to the general public. These reviews are published in newspapers, magazines and even academic journals, just in time for film enthusiasts to weigh up the pros and cons of an upcoming attraction. Peer-to-peer file sharing protocols, while completely legal as a technology, are frequently used for illegal purposes. One of these purposes is the distribution of copyrighted films. It is common for a film to be released on a different date in several countries, and this has a major implication for the discipline of film criticism. A film may be released on DVD in the United States two months before it is given a theatrical release in Australia. Anyone in the United States with the adequate technology can rip this DVD and upload it to a BitTorrent index such as isoHunt. A person in Australia can perform a search for this film on isoHunt, and can download it once they find it. They may be too impatient to wait for its theatrical release, forgoing the insight of a seasoned critic in order to be immediately sated. Once this person has watched the film they have downloaded, they have the opportunity to share their thoughts on it through a personal blog site or even something as minuscule as a tweet. In this scenario, the established Australian print critic is not the first person to present the verdict on the film. The professional has been usurped by the everyday citizen who has obtained the film via illegal means. This should not deter that citizen from checking his or her facts, as "speed comes at a price and quality; clarity and creativity are oftentimes the currency." (Brannon, 2008, p. 109). The eagerness of a reviewer to get their opinion out into the blogosphere first may jeopardise how insightful their review is. Not only are people resorting to illegal downloads for purposes of immediacy, but consumers of filmic information are turning to the Internet for this same quick fix. Nick James (2009) does not believe that amateur bloggers are to blame for the downgraded importance of the commercially-influential print critic. Rather, he champions the view that saturation marketing is responsible for this shift in authority. It is the countless viral marketing campaigns, fan sites and extensive festival reportage that “makes much professional consumer guidance seem dispensable.” (James, 2009). The contemporary film buff is attuned to a culture where information is readily available as the result of a quick Google search.  Considering the vast amount of films being made and released each year, and the numerous platforms they can be viewed on, it is hardly surprising that newspapers and magazines are no longer the first port of call for film enthusiasts. It is simply a case of print critics not adjusting to the rapidity and reach of the digital age.

It is not only the channels of dissemination that have changed over the years, but also the type of content being produced. Print critics write to fill a designated space in a newspaper or magazine, whereas online critics are given more lenience. In the case of independent bloggers, the individual has complete creative control. With more autonomy over what is written, a critic can lose sight of what a film review should accomplish. Critic Giles Hardie (2012) believes the two key qualities of a good film critic are perspective and explanation. Thus, a person who shares their opinion of a film via a tweet is not providing the same thoroughness as critics who judge the worth of a film by arguing a particular viewpoint. In the digital age, opinion is not enough. It is informed opinion that will stand out amongst the swath of pithy judgements. According to Taylor (2011), a dichotomy exists between film critics. The traditional print critics view online adherents as “amateurs, fanboys, and obscurantists,” while those who have made the transition herald our time as the golden age of film criticism, and label print critics as guilty of “jealousy, resentment, and Ludditism.” Taylor (2011) observes that many young (and often male) web critics write for each other instead of informing an uneducated public. These novice critics write “articles that analyze sequences in terms of lighting and editing and even shot length,” and present them with the “deadly seriousness of a doctoral dissertation.” Hence, they are straying from the traditional convention of writing as though the reader is unfamiliar with the facts. The duties of a film critic have long been debated, and while each individual critic may bring their subjective goals to the profession, there are several features of film criticism that are championed by both traditional and contemporary critics. Nick James (2009) contends that a film critic has eight distinct roles: 

(1) saying if a film is worth seeing, (2) championing good unknown work, (3) giving a wider historical perspective, (4) offering the insights of technical knowledge, (5) conferring useful prestige and kudos upon producers of good cinema, (6) earmarking the best works for future historians, (7) counteracting marketing untruths, and (8) opposing the retrograde.

This illustrates that the function of the film critic is no longer merely arbiter of good cinema. Critics are becoming more journalistic by not only critiquing films, but writing about the industry in general. Online critics need to distinguish themselves in a space where the amount of content is overwhelming. They are more likely to be successful if they discover obscure works, or, as Harris (2012) writes, if they are “truffle pigs, unearthing the undiscovered delights buried among the mass of mediocrity and rubbish.” Hence, we are moving towards an era of film criticism marked by acute analysis. Minute observations go unnoticed in an age where virtually anyone can voice an opinion.

While many of the journalists who work in online platforms are professionally qualified and paid for their work, film piracy can encourage web-based citizen journalists to emerge. While their reach may not be as profound as print critics or paid online critics, they can still be influential within certain circles on the Internet. Rosen (2006) describes citizen journalists as “the people formerly known as the audience,” which implies an evolving news dissemination model. A member of the public can write a letter to the editor in response to a print critic’s review, but if this letter is published in the following edition of the paper, readers may experience a sense of disconnect. They will see the response but not the review it is in reference to. Whereas, in an online setting, a user comment underneath a review can constitute citizen journalism (Lasica, 2003), with an added element of reciprocity that is lacking in print criticism. While print critics may exude a greater air of professionalism than their online counterparts, Doherty (2010) argues that unpaid online critics are “more independent, more honest, and more in sync with the mass audience than the jaded sexagenarians,” as they are free of distractions such as press junkets. It is interesting that independence is listed as a virtue of online critics, as the nature of the medium suggests opinion that is informed by a wide range of other sources. In her Master’s thesis, Online Journalism: The Transformation of the Film Review, Holopirek (2007) deduces that online citizen reviewers often fail to substantiate their views with any rationale, resulting in purely subjective reviews. Their goal is simply to tell the reader whether a film is worth seeing. For example, a review of Martin Campbell’s Casino Royale from the website Everyone’s a Critic (http://www.everyonesacritic.net/) illustrates the way subjective, declarative statements supplant thorough analysis. The reviewer writes “His [Daniel Craig’s] performance is the best we’ve seen since Sean Connery,” (trevor22, as cited in Holopirek, 2007) without making reference to a single scene in the film. Thus, while citizen critics can take advantage of the opportunities afforded by the Internet and cater to a niche audience, their expertise and knowledge of film history may not be as vast as critics who are paid for their work.   

The democratisation made possible by the Internet is undoubtedly posing a threat to the profession that is film criticism, and it is worth examining the consequences of the online shift and whether film criticism will eventually descend into a hobby instead of an occupation. Nick James (2009) notes that much of the discussion about the future of film criticism was sparked by the fact that, over a two-year period, American newspapers had culled over 30 film critics without replacing them. Between 2006 and 2009, Salt Lake Tribune critic Sean P. Means compiled a list of film critics who had lost their jobs at American print outlets. By the time of his last entry in May 2009, the list had amounted to 55 names (Matossian, 2011). The dwindling number of print critics does not necessarily signal the death of film criticism if quality work is being produced online. Roger Ebert (2010) believes we are in a golden age of film criticism, and that Means’ list does not account for the number of talented critics who are currently working online. He concedes that film criticism is no longer an occupation, but that it still functions as a profession (Ebert, 2010). If the lure of making money is not attached to the profession, it follows that those who write about film without being paid for it do so out of passion and enthusiasm. The distinction between ‘occupation’ and ‘profession’ is not the only one that needs to be made. The function of a critic is seen as different from that of a reviewer. Reviewers generally work for a weekly or monthly publication and offer their thoughts on a film so it is edifying for both acquainted and unacquainted readers (Bywater & Sobchack, 1989, p. 5). Critics, on the other hand, are more informed about the industry and critique films with greater perspective (Bywater & Sobchack, 1989, p. 5). Cardullo (as cited in Holopirek, 2007) views criticism as a “branch of scholarship” and reviewing as a “form of journalism.” Hence, new modes of film criticism have prompted reconsiderations of the profession’s requirements.

In conclusion, peer-to-peer file sharing platforms and the Internet in general are not forcing film critics into redundancy. Print media does not have a monopoly on the profession, and many online critics, both paid and unpaid, are producing quality content. Nevertheless, it is more difficult for this content to be noticed if so many people are contributing, which is why immediacy has become paramount in the digital age. The duties of the contemporary film critic (or reviewer) are as basic as recommending a film and as thorough as intensive, shot-by-shot analysis of one. Citizen journalists will naturally take advantage of the ease involved in setting up a blog and voicing an opinion. While some of these everyday film enthusiasts will reject objective critique procedures, their opinions are not attached to a company and they are not paid, resulting in more honest, passionate criticism. Print critics whose jobs are terminated do not signify a decline in criticism, despite sensationalistic reports. Many of these critics will resume work in the online field, and their opinions will still matter. 

References
Brannon, J. (2008). Maximize the medium: Assessing obstacles to performing multimedia
journalism in three US newsrooms. In C. Paterson & D. Domingo (Eds.), Making online news: The ethnography of new media production (pp. 99-111). New York: Peter Lang.
Bywater, T., & Sobchack, T. (1989). Introduction to film criticism: Major critical approaches to
narrative film. New York: Longman.
Doherty, T. (2010, February 28). The death of film criticism. The Chronicle. Retrieved from
http://chronicle.com/article/The-Death-of-Film-Criticism/64352/
Ebert, R. (2010, April 30). The golden age of movie critics. Chicago Sun-Times. Retrieved from
http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2010/04/the_golden_age_of_movie_critic.html
Hardie, G. (2012, August 1). Endangered species: Film critics. The Sydney Morning Herald.
Retrieved from http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/movies/endangered-species-film-critics-20120801-23e5p.html
Harris, S. J. (2012, June 13). Let’s drag film criticism out of the snark ages. The Telegraph.
Retrieved from http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/culture/scottharris/100064232/lets-drag-film-criticism-out-of-the-snark-ages-2/
Holopirek, J. A. (2007). Online journalism: The transformation of the film review. Masters of
Science thesis. University of Kansas. Retrieved from http://search.proquest.com. ezproxy.uws.edu.au/docview/304860009
James, N. (2009). Rip it up: Revitalizing film criticism. Film Quarterly. 62(3), 14-15.
Lasica, J. D. (2003, August 7). What is participatory journalism? Online Journalism Review.
Retrieved from http://www.ojr.org/ojr/workplace/1060217106.php
Matossian, J. (2011, May 14). Reflections on the past, present and future of traditional film
criticism. NYCity Culture Blog. Retrieved from http://nyccultureblog.journalism.cuny. edu/2011/05/14/reflections-on-the-past-present-and-future-of-traditional-film-criticism/
Miller, H. K. (2012, January 17). The birth of film criticism – 100 years ago today. The Guardian.
Retrieved from http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/filmblog/2012/jan/17/birth-film-criticism-100-years
Rosen, J. (2006, June 27). The people formerly known as the audience. PressThink. Retrieved from
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Taylor, C. (2011). The problem with film criticism. Dissent. 58(4), 81-83.