The Critic Speaks

It was 1986 and the movie version of Pink Floyd’s concept album The Wall was playing at the Avon Cinema in Providence. The movie had come out in 82, and I’d seen it the weekend it was released. I was a huge Floyd fan in the early 80’s, buying all the albums I could get my paws on and memorizing every lyric. I didn’t really know at the time whether I liked the movie, I just knew I was happy to have that music conveyed to me through another medium. If someone had made a ballet of The Wall, I’d have gone to see that too.

Four years later, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d listened to Floyd, but I had nothing to do that night, and I thought it would be fun to revisit this piece of my teen years. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with fond Floyd memories because the place was packed. Sitting through the first fifteen minutes, I realized I’d forgotten how it was really an extended music video more than a traditional narrative. Also, the protagonist, a British rock star named Pink, did spend a lot of time feeling sorry for himself. Still, the music still held up for me, and so I settled in for the ride.

That’s when The Critic spoke up. He was seated somewhere in the first few rows, in a seat you only take when the theater is this full. We’d just been shown a particularly self-indulgent plot point, when a single voice rang through the theater: “Oh, Please!”

He was not talking to himself. He had not merely muttered a little too loud. He spoke as clearly as the happy hecklers at the Rocky Horror Picture Show. For a moment, a unique silence settled over the crowd, who all, like me, were no longer really watching the movie but weighing what to do next.

My problem was that I sort of agreed with The Critic. Not his actions. Speaking out in movie theaters was, in my mind, a greater sin than sloppy storytelling. Fortunately, the film ran on, and more music played, and I settled back into why I was here. But The Critic was not done. When the school kids were turned into ground meat, he cried, “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Shut up!” someone yelled. I sensed this would only encourage him. Ten minutes later, as the improbable story spun on, The Critic spoke again. “Give me a break!”

“Shut up,” someone yelled again. “Yeah, shut up!” barked someone audience member.

Something remarkable happened next. The Critic got up, left his seat, and, marching up the aisle, declared, “This is a terrible movie. You are all watching a bad, bad film.”

And then he was gone. We were all glad to be rid of him, but I sensed he had sucked the life out of that theater. He had certainly ruined the movie for me, though I sat through the rest of it. One of the problems the movie had was it turned the whole world into a villain, everyone hurting poor Pink. Best, usually, just to have one villain, one person who believes he knows what is best for everyone else – especially when that one person is sure he is the hero speaking the truth that no one wants to hear.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write With Confidence.
You can find William at: williamkenower.com