Showing posts sorted by relevance for query cultural selectivity. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query cultural selectivity. Sort by date Show all posts

Friday, August 08, 2008

Cinerati Lexicon #1: Filmic Cultural Selectivity

In yesterday's discussion of the origin of the Cinerati blog, it was mentioned that the first post contained "an attack on filmic cultural selectivity" without describing what was meant by filmic cultural selectivity. One imagines that most readers can decipher the meaning of the phrase, it isn't to arcane, but one should never assume understanding. Additionally, one of my goals in rebooting the website was to share not merely my thoughts about modern films and the state of modern criticism, but to share my ideas and my personal terminology with the world in the hopes of creating meaningful dialog.

What do I mean by filmic cultural selectivity?

Filmic Cultural Selectivity


Filmic cultural selectivity, is a logical error which frequently occurs in the discussion of film where the reviewer selectively chooses high quality films from a particular culture and compares them to another culture to express the superiority of the chosen culture. Such selectivity only actually falls into the category of logical error when the critic, in mentioning the quality of one culture, intentionally and knowingly excludes the existence of any lower quality (or fun exploitation) films within the given culture.

Below are some examples, one specific and one imagined, of this error in criticism:

Example #1 (the specific example):

Thomas Hibbs piece discussed yesterday (Kurosawa Kills Bill. In the piece, Hibbs damns American films as "vulgar distortions of Japanese film culture." He then follows this assertion with a list of Akira Kurosawa films which he presents as possibly representative of Japanese film culture. Nowhere in the piece does he mention lesser works of Japanese cinema. Nor does he mention the influence of Western genre films on the work of Kurosawa. Certainly he mentions a Western influence, Shakespeare, but he leaves out Dashiell Hammett and the influence of Film Noir on Kurosawa. He elevates Kurosawa (deservedly), and Japanese cinema in general (less deservedly), to a "high art" status while attacking American cinema as vulgar. As my response points out, Japanese cinema runs the gamut of quality by the standard set forth by Hibbs.


Example #2 (a proposed example):

You and a friend, who happens to be a respected film critic, are discussing your favorite films. You make the "mistake" of mentioning a mainstream blockbuster film among your list of great films. Your friend responds and a dialog begins:

CRITIC FRIEND


That's such a typical American answer which demonstrates your lack of familiarity with Italian cinema, which are in every way superior to American films. Have you never seen LA STRADA or 8 1/2? The Italian directors have a much greater understanding of the human experience than American directors who have been corrupted by commercialism and who seek only to appeal to the lowest common denominator.

Being ready for your friend's tendency to engage in filmic cultural selectivity, you are able to respond in a mocking tone.

YOU


That's so true. Sergio Corbucci's SUPER FUZZ truly captured the underlying conflict between the personal and professional of the modern law enforcement officer. And Ruggero Deodato's CANNIBAL HOLOCUAST is a "well respected" representation of indigenous cultures.

You didn't even mention DIABOLIK or get into how anyone who defends the social commentary merits of CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST, while simultaneously excoriating HOSTEL, is not only practicing filmic cultural selectivity, they are also being highly inconsistent...unless they also defend Wes Craven's THE HILLS HAVE EYES then their opinions are a little more complicated.


My point in saying that filmic cultural selectivity is a problem isn't to assert that American film is the best film making in the world. I am willing to listen to well-informed experts on other cultures films who advance the merits of that culture's films. The understanding of film only benefits from such a dialogue. I am merely asserting that one must acknowledge the bad with the good, it can only make your argument stronger if you are correct in your comparison. Had Hibbs mentioned BATTLE ROYALE, or any Chambara films, in his essay -- or had he mentioned RED HARVEST and THE GLASS KEY as inspirational to Kurosawa's YOJIMBO -- it might have actually made his argument stronger.

As for our imaginary film critic friend (and the one above is completely imaginary), I actually do like SUPER FUZZ...mostly for childhood nostalgia reasons. And while CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST is not at all culturally sensitive to indigenous peoples, it has strong proponents both inside and outside the horror field. As for DIABOLIK, don't just watch the MSTK 3000 version. John Philip Law, my second favorite Sindbad, is quite entertaining in this film. Don't even get me started on how much I love cheesy Hercules movies.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

Cinerati Reboot

In late December of 2003, I read an article at National Review Online (Kurosawa Kills Bill) discussing the relative lack of merit of the films Kill Bill vol. 1 and The Last Samurai. After reading the article, I realized that many film critics, including most conservative film critics, and I were having very different experiences when we watched movies in the theater.

It took me almost three months to draft a response that I thought was appropriate, and on March 16th 2004, the Cinerati blog had its first post published on the internet. The post was a direct response to Thomas Hibbs NRO piece, a defense of the films mentioned, an attack on filmic cultural selectivity, and my first foray back into criticism after leaving a roughly monthly shared film review column in the Sparks Daily Tribune titled Celluloid Say-So when I left for graduate school in 2000.

At the time, I had intended Cinerati to be a film discussion blog where friends of mine and I would share our thoughts on film and on the state of film criticism. It quickly became something else. The community of posters I had always desired quickly dwindled down to me, with an occasional post by another Cinerati member. And what was originally intended to be a site which focused primarily on films, ended up a site with far more commentary about games, comics, and more games. In short, Cinerati quickly grew away from its name and its purpose. This, combined with the fact that posting has been slow of late and some new encounters with film reviews, inspired me to reboot the site.

Gone will be mentions of roleplaying games, video games, comic books, etc. Those will be reserved for the Geekerati blog. From now on, this site will be devoted to discussion of movies and television. In particular, this site will engage with other critics of film and television. There are enough "review" sites on the internet, in fact there is a glut. Too much time is being spent evaluating the "narratives" of film and not enough is spent evaluating the "art" of films. What is needed is a site that examines what is being said about film and television and examines whether what is being said is meaningful.

Over the next few days, there will be a series of columns discussing the direction of the site, the types of columns that will be written, and examining what the proper roles of criticism are when it comes to film and television. Additionally, there will be discussions of the particular terminology, or turns of a phrase, that I will use from time to time.

In fact, my very next post will be a brief post highlighting what I mean when I say or write filmic cultural selectivity.

But first, let's have a look at that first post:

In the Shadow of Kurosawa

By Christian Johnson (now Christian Lindke)

I can still remember the first time I saw Rocky Horror Picture Show. There I was, a “virgin” watching rolls of toilet paper flying and getting wet from squirting water when I realized that I was sitting surrounded by an audience that didn’t “get it.” Here they were talking, mocking, and interacting with a film that was hilarious on its own merits. Somewhere in all the chaos I managed to watch a parody of some of my favorite classic Hollywood horror films. I had a similar, though drier, experience when I watched John Waters' Cecil B. Demented in a theater full of people who didn’t know who William Castle was.

I experienced the same frustration when I read Thomas Hibbs’ recent article regarding Quentin Tarantino’s most recent film Kill Bill vol. 1 and the Tom Cruise blockbuster The Last Samurai (Kurosawa Kills Bill). In particular, I took issue with his claim that “despite their critical acclaim and their purported desire to be faithful to Japanese sources, these films are but vulgar distortions of Japanese film culture, especially the work of Akira Kurosawa.” I was surprised by my reaction because I have more respect for Professor Hibbs than I do for most of the celebrated “cinerati” who, like me, enjoyed these two films. You see, I think that the Distinguished Professor of Ethics and Culture is on to something with regards to America’s elites having a disturbing affection for nihilism, the subject of his book Shows About Nothing. So my reaction did not originate from a disagreement about the merits of these films with regard to virtue or an expression of human excellence. To be fair, I don’t know what his opinions are regarding The Last Samurai as a film about virtue, but I have a fair idea regarding Kill Bill. My frustration stemmed from his accusation that these films were “distortions” of a genre “especially” the work of Akira Kurosawa.

This led me to ask two questions. First, are these films a “distortion of Japanese film culture?” Second, are these films “especially” referencing the work of Akira Kurosawa? I refuse to address any other of the statements made in Hibbs’ article because they provide a wonderful introduction to the works of an inspirational filmmaker -- he provides a valuable list of Kurosawa must sees, though he surprisingly leaves out High and Low. I also think that Hibbs was remiss in not mentioning Chushingura by Hiroshi Inagaki as another wonderful film about feudal Japan.

Kill Bill is exactly what it purports to be, a celebration of Japan’s b-movies in the Chambara genre (and to some extent the Wuxia and Kung Fu films of Hong Kong). While Akira Kurosawa’s films (among them Sanjuro, Seven Samurai, Yojimbo, Ran) are great films about Samurai culture, they do not stand alone as the only films from Japan about the feudal era nor are they in the b-list of this genre. Tarantino’s film is closer in tone to the Lone Wolf and Cub and Zatoichi films, but he adds the bloodiness of the films of Kinji Fukasaku whose recent film Battle Royale (based on the book of the same name) is a brutal combination of Lord of the Flies and the Survivor television show. One need only watch a few Sonny Chiba (who stars in Kill Bill and is referenced in True Romance) films to understand that Japan, like America, has an appetite for graphic violence. You cannot claim that a film is a vulgar distortion of a culture based on a case study, a more random sample is needed. I think that if Professor Hibbs takes a random sample of Japanese cinema post 1970, he will find more Hanzo the Blade than Throne of Blood.

Typical of Tarantino, any celebration requires examples of a genre’s influence on Western film. So we have a perverted “Charlie's Angels,” called the DiVAs, based on the Five Deadly Venoms by the Shaw Brothers. We have the exaggerated camera use similar to Sergio Leone used in the fight scene between Uma Thurman and Lucy Liu (the snow covered ground of which directly references the final fight in Chushingura). Tarantino gives us the Tokyo of Black Rain and Godzilla visually reminiscent of the Los Angeles of Blade Runner. We hear the theme song to The Green Hornet, and Ironsides, and Uma Thurman dressed like Bruce Lee in Game of Death. Through his director’s eye the audience sees the way Western movies, largely b-movies, have influenced Japanese b-movies, which have in turn influenced Western b-movies. We are presented with a dialogue, not a distortion, between two arguably vulgar cultural representations of the action genre.

The Last Samurai is more difficult to defend from Professor Hibbs’ criticism. While the film is infinitely less vulgar than Kill Bill, Edward Zwick appears to be imitating rather than celebrating what he thinks a film about feudal Japan should look like. The palette is reminiscent of Ran as is the tragic nature of its Japanese protagonist. The Last Samurai isn’t a film about feudal Japan, rather it is a film about how an American reacts and views feudal Japan. The framing device makes it apparent that we are watching the memories of an American Civil War veteran struggling to understand Japanese culture. The director has the difficult task of combining genre and cultural messages. How do you balance the need to show both Western and Eastern concepts of military virtue? How do you do this through the eyes of a character who has forgotten Classical virtue and is a product of Machiavellian prudential virtue?

The conflicts for Cruise’s character prevent the director from fully utilizing the Japanese cultural setting and so he abbreviates it. There are moments in the film when Cruise’s character is given advice from the Book of Five Rings a classic samurai text. The advice given him to him regarding sword fighting mirror advice from the 2nd chapter of the Hagakure (published in 1716 at a time when Japan’s Samurai class had experienced 100 years of relative peace), “There is surely nothing other than the single purpose of the present moment. A man's whole life is a succession of moment after moment. If one fully understands the present moment, there will be nothing else to do, and nothing else to pursue. Live being true to the single purpose of the moment.” The Last Samurai converts the advice into a physical representation during one particular duel between Cruise and a number of ruffians. The camera’s eye captures a perfect combination of single-minded concentration and void.

In the end though, these arguments regarding the merits of Kill Bill and The Last Samurai as examples of Western art encountering Japanese art may be unconvincing to the viewer who might believe that these films represent how we have come to “prefer sorrow over pain, suffering over peace.” To that viewer I can only offer the following.

My first example is one of hope. It is the moment in The Last Samurai when Katsumoto tells Nathan Algren that one could do worse than to spend one’s life looking for the perfect blossom. In this moment, we are told that the pursuit of beauty is a better profession than the pursuit of war.

The second example is one of caution, for it shows that man’s love of pain and suffering over peace isn’t a new one. It is a quote from the 10th chapter of the Hagakure, “If you cut a face lengthwise, urinate on it, and trample on it with straw sandals, it is said that the skin will come off. This was heard by the priest Gyojaku when he was in Kyoto. It is information to be treasured.”

If the first moment is merely a pretentious effort to seem profound, maybe we truly have abandoned the pursuit of a summum bonum. I dread a world in which it is “not the natural sweetness of living but the terrors of death [that] make us cling to life.”

Monday, January 05, 2009

Best Cinerati Posts of 2008 by Month

At the beginning of each new year, we reflect upon what we have said and done in the previous year. Listed below are links to what we believe are the bests posts of 2008, organized by month of publication.

January 2008


February 2008


March 2008


April 2008


May 2008


June 2008


July 2008


August 2008


September 2008


October 2008


November 2008


December 2008



Wow! You can really tell when the crunch times in my life were over the past year. Some months (May, June, and October) didn't have a lot of offerings to select from. In 2008, it was a struggle to get new blog posts up. Hopefully, 2009 won't suffer the same fate.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Anne Thompson, Toy Movies, District 9, and the Indie/Popular Divide

I am a great admirer of Anne Thompson and find the majority of her coverage of Hollywood to be insightful, and to be honest "must reading." But there are times when I just have to cross her name off of the Holiday card list, and her recent post discussing the merits of District 9 while excoriating Hollywood for making films like GI Joe is one of those times.

Certainly, Thompson is right to praise a film like District 9 which manages to bring to the big screen quality science fiction at a budget price. Geekerati plans to do a show this weekend begging the question, "is there an inverse relationship between budget and the quality of an SF film?" Where Anne wanders off into the hinterlands of privilege, snobbery, killjoydom, and filmic cultural selectivity is when she writes, "That’s why I want G.I. Joe to take a dive this weekend (sorry Lorenzo Di Bonaventura), not because I want Paramount to lose money but because I want the Transformers-blinded studios to see that derivative toy movies are not the only way to go." Even worse, she goes on to claim that Hollywood executives, "In their search for franchises and tentpoles... ignore the obvious: most of them were once originals, from Star Wars and Lethal Weapon to The Matrix and Raiders of the Lost Ark."

One find's it hard to believe that a journalist covering Hollywood could write such passages, that is unless the same journalist happens to be wearing her Blinders of Public Disdain +5. Apparently, Anne owns a pair of those not so rare magic items -- or maybe she has the powerful artifact Schiller's Monocle of Aesthetic Disdain. Whatever the case may be, her statements are not only disrespectful of a particular audience demographic (Gen X and younger males), but are just plain incorrect at one level -- she is correct in stating "studios often forget what their customers really want: something new that they’ve never seen before". She just forgets that they equally want something that they are nostalgic for.

It's one thing to assert Anne's wrongheadedness, but one must address the individual statements and analyze them as well.

First, why should Anne want GI JOE to fail because she "want[s] the Transformers-blinded studios to see that derivative toy movies are not the only way to go?" Is it necessary for studios to fail for them to see that movies inspired by nostalgia for a particular intellectual property aren't the only way to go?

Not a chance.

If the films should be required to fail, it should be because they fail to inspire the same level of awe that was created by the intellectual property audiences feel nostalgia for in the first place. Hollywood should make hundreds of "derivative toy movies" if they manage to capture the mystique of the original IP -- especially if they are profitable. Transformers has failed to do this twice, largely because they have erred to much on the side of making adolescents laugh and not enough on telling a good story. This is the opposite error that many childrens movies make today, the modern kid flick spends to much time making sure to wink at the adults in the audience and not enough time telling a compelling story. If Transformers 2 had fewer "ball" jokes, and a more coherent narrative, the film would have been amazing. Sadly, that was not the case. It's hard to say that Transformers had a derivative narrative, since it's hard to say what the narrative of the film even was -- other than giant robots blowing stuff up.

This isn't true of GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra. The Joe film managed to have an underlying narrative that was fairly original.

[Spoiler Alert that contains information that even those who saw the movie may not have understood] Cobra's plan was to replace the President of the United States with a Cobra agent so that when a major terrorist attack took place the world would turn to the US for leadership, only to end up under the direct control of the terrorist group behind the attack.[End Spoiler Alert]

That's a pretty cool underlying premise. The execution of the film is flawed, as the film tries to do to much in some areas and not enough in others, but that's not a particularly derivative story. In fact, in structure and execution one could argue that the GI JOE film is the true heir to the 007 films of Connery and Moore -- as the Craig movies are more a return to the tone and feel of the novels. One can argue that Joe wasted money on cast, money it didn't need to spend, since it is the IP and not the cast that brings one to a nostalgia fest, but one shouldn't argue that it was derivative. "Original?" No. "Awe Inspiring?" No. But if one imagines what the collective mind of 12 year old boys in 1984 want out of a Joe film, one gets a film pretty close to what ended up on the screen. That was the point, to fuel and feed off of nostalgia.

Even more to the point of it not being "necessary for studios to fail for them to see that movies inspired by nostalgia for a particular intellectual property aren't the only way to go?" Let's look at some very successful films from the past decade that break from the "tent pole" assumptions. My Big Fat Greek Wedding and Mama Mia! by themselves provide ample proof that lower budget movies aimed at a "non-tent pole" audience (read: not 18-35 males) can make an amazing amount of profit. It is necessary that non-extravaganzas be made and be successful for studios to see these films have value. The more that are made, the more that will be made...by the studios. Studios will go where the money is. It is easy to do a Net Present Value analysis of an existing IP, with an established fan base. It is much more difficult to do one on an unknown idea. You have to be willing to take a risk and lose money, and that's something that business people don't like to do. They don't like to spend good money after bad.

Want to watch your investment money disappear faster than an addiction to crystal meth? Invest in an independent movie that you believe in. Risky films are risky. That's why Hollywood, which is risk averse because it likes profits, doesn't make a lot of these films. Show them that the risk isn't as big as they believe, and you can and will see more films like Juno.

Never mind the logical fallacy that "toy movies" need to fail for studios to learn there are other options, even more egregious is Thompson's assertion that "most of them [tentpoles] were once originals, from Star Wars and Lethal Weapon to The Matrix and Raiders of the Lost Ark." Originals? Really? Are you serious? I'll give you The Matrix (just), but the others?

Can Thompson actually believe that Star Wars, a masterful combination of the narratives of Hidden Fortress and the Flash Gordon serials -- which includes frames lifted straight out of Flash Gordon, is original? Shoot me now. Star Wars is amazing, but it is highly derivative. It is homage.

The same is true for the Allan Quartermain inspired Raiders of the Lost Ark. Could this movie exist without King Solomon's Mines? Not a chance. Raiders is phenomenal because it captures the essence of the old serials and combines it with the raw fun of H. Rider Haggard's tales. As an aside, King Kong is a combination of Haggard's tales with Conan Doyle's The Lost World. Raiders appealed to a nostalgia in a particular generation and did it so well it created nostalgia in a new one.

If Thompson is even trying to hint at the fact that Hollywood's great movies were "original," I can already feel the milk bubbling through my nose from the laughter.

Gone with the Wind? Based on a novel.
Wizard of Oz? Based on a novel.
West Side Story? Based on a Broadway musical, based on Romeo and Juliet.
The Maltese Falcon (1941)? Based on a Dashiell Hammett novel and had three theatrical versions between 1931 and 1941. Three in a decade before they made a great version?!
Yojimbo? Based on Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest with a touch of The Glass Key thrown in for good measure.
Rashomon? Based on a short story.

I could go on and on and on. Hollywood isn't in the business of making "original" stories. Heck, film makers aren't in the business of making "original" stories. Hollywood is in the business of making money. Film makers are in the business of entertaining. Sometimes they entertain us with original ideas, and some times they entertain us with familiar ones. I put no preference on either category. I just want to be entertained...and sometimes educated when I'm feeling Aristotelian.

As for District 9? I'm excited about this combination of Alien Nation, V, and Cry Freedom. Though I do share some of Science Fiction author Steven Barnes' concerns.

Truth is, there is a lot of truth in Anne's article. Hollywood should remember that there is a relationship between risk and reward. The higher the risk, the greater the potential reward. Films like GI JOE may have a predictable NPV, but they aren't going to provide the high levels of profitability that something like My Big Fat Greek Wedding are going to bring.

Hollywood should take some risks.

But Anne...you need to stop hating the male Gen X and younger audience. We just want to be reminded of those afternoons when we and our friends made up stories while playing with our GI JOE and TRANSFORMERS action figures.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Cinerati Lexicon #2: Gothtentious

Last August we presented our first Cinerati Lexicon entry. That entry focused on what we like to call filmic cultural selectivity. It has come time once again for the Cinerati blog to share another definition with you based on our movie going/appreciating experience.

Like most film fans, we have a flixter account and are fond of examining how closely our "friends" and our tastes match up. In the past, this has led to some pleasant surprises. Not the least of which is that Anne Thompson's opinions match Cinerati's so well that we are considered "Soul Mates." This is true even with our vast disagreement on Pretty Woman. She likes it a lot and we think that it overly debases the Eliza character from My Fair Lady and is thus only worthy of scorn. We must admit though that the recent episode of Flight of the Conchords had a compelling review/interpretation of Pretty Woman. Suffice it to say, that the close proximity of our film tastes will make Cinerati more likely to trust Thompson as someone who likes the films we like.

Other comparisons have been less rewarding. During our most recent foray into the flixterverse, we encountered something we thought impossible. One of my flixter friends, who shall remain nameless in order to protect their life, rated The Incredibles a meager 1/2 star out of five. We had believed that such a rating was only possible when the reviewer lacked this little thing we call a soul. Alas, it appears that this misguided individual does in fact have a soul -- and is a pretty good reviewer to boot -- so their must be some other explanation. Cinerati has yet to discover what affliction this individual suffers from that makes them hate The Incredibles, and makes them believe that Tom Cruise's War of the Worlds is better than The Matrix, while simultaneously having a proper love for YouTube videos featuring Bettie Page photographs and music by The Cramps.

Our initial suspicion was that this individual was extremely Gothtentious.

What do I mean by Gothtentious?

Gothtentious


Gothtentious is a neologism combining the words Gothic and pretentious.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary (in a March 2008 Draft Addition), Gothic can be defined as: "Of or designating a genre of fiction characterized by suspenseful, sensational plots involving supernatural or macabre elements and often (esp. in early use) having a medieval theme or setting."

Additionally, Gothic may be defined as (OED Additions Series 1993): "A style of rock music, and the youth culture associated with this, deriving originally from punk, and characterized by the dramatically stark appearance of its performers and followers, reminiscent of the protagonists of (esp. cinematic) gothic fantasy, and by mystical or apocalyptic lyrics."

The most common definition of pretentious, according to the OED, is: "Attempting to impress by affecting greater importance or merit than is actually possessed; making an exaggerated outward display; ostentatious, showy."

Thus gothtentious would be when someone is "attempting to impress by affecting a demeanor which disdains all that is not suspenseful and macabre. Especially, the gothtentious person reserves particular disdain for lighthearted and bourgeois entertainments. The individual will also praise material that is otherwise lacking in merit for the mere fact that it contains an appropriate amount of macabre or suspenseful content."

The gothtentious person would often be willing to take a position of disdain for a particular entertainment vehicle merely to distinguish themselves from the crowd. Such opinions may be driven by a narcissistic desire for attention, even negative attention, from others, or from an underlying sense that one is held in similar disdain by society at large. In these cases, the gothtentious person is acting out against society either for attention or as revenge.

An example of this kind of gothtentious would be the following:

Films like The Incredibles are a perfect example of Hollywood, and America's, obsession with bourgeois morality tales. In it, the dichotomy between hero and villain is clear and even the "children" of the tale can act without fear of any real consequences. We all know how the story is going to end...happily. It is time to move beyond these stories and grapple with the underlying sense of despair intrinsic in the human condition. It would be much better to devote storytelling resources to narratives like insert Neil Gaiman, China Mieville, or Poe reference here.


Another example might be found within Michael Moorcock's excellent Wizardry and Wild Romance:

I think my own dislike of J.R.R. Tolkien lies primarily in the fact that in all those hundreds of pages, full of high ideals, sinister evil and noble deeds, there is scarcely a hint of irony anywhere. its tone is one of relentless nursery room sobriety: "Once upon a time," began nanny gravely, for the telling of stories was a serious matter, "there were a lot of furry little people who lived happily in the most beautiful, gentlest countryside you could possibly imagine, and then one day they learned that Wicked Outsiders were threatening this peace...." ...That such nostalgic pre-pubescent yearnings should find a large audience in England is bad enough, but that they should have international appeal is positively terrifying.


As Moorcock demonstrates, the gothtentious person could also be described as a kind of social provocateur who -- when in possession of a serious intellect -- forces other individuals in society to examine what it is about a particular entertainment vehicle they find so rewarding. Gothtentiousness need not be a character flaw but it can certainly be irritating when it is done without the wit and sophistication of a writer like Moorcock. One should also point out that when Moorcock was writing Wizardry and Wild Romance he was drafting a polemic which argued for a new form of fantasy fiction. Specifically, it was arguing for the style of fantasy that Moorcock himself was writing. This is no small coincidence and is evidence of the gothtentious nature of the work.