A friend of mine directed me to this informative, if discouraging, little article by New York Times Critic A.O. Scott. In it he discusses the diminishing role of the critic in the face of box office smashes that simultaneously share the tag of critical failure. I’ve often pondered this conundrum myself as I consistently guess which disaster will take top spot at the box office week after week.

Debatably a film’s success has little to do with its quality, rather the saturation of its advertising. Even a heavily exposed film that inevitably does poorly at the box still brings in a heap more than the typical art-house selection. Are people so impressionable that they merely walk into whichever film assaults them with the most ads any given week? Take an example of a recent ad blitz as implemented by the film Click – certainly not a high quality film at hand, and yet it brought in $128 million so far and just slightly missed the top ten for this weekend. What about Little Man – something so repulsive that I flinch every time I see a picture of it? Certainly no one was rushing out to see this film… right? Sure enough, there it is right there in the box office top ten this weekend.

Occasionally a fluke occurs, as with An Inconvenient Truth which is doing surprisingly well for a film with no commercial support. Although, arguably, the controversy it’s causing in the political arena is advertisement enough. But by and large, the box office successes are determined by the amount of money backing the film.

What bothers me most is that the silver bullet that normally signaled a kiss of death at the box office – that is, not allowing advanced screenings for critics – now appears useless against appalling films. Films appear to be getting away with this these days. Before, the idea was that even bad publicity was still publicity. But now the studios compensate for a lack of critical acclaim by simply flooding the media with their product.

So, if by choosing to stand in opposition to this tyranny against the art of cinema my fate is to be termed, as Mr. Scott has put it, “a crank, a malcontent, a snob,” then so be it. If it saves me from attending Lady in the Water then I accept my exile. Truth is, criticism shall thrive as long as the general public’s collective intelligence doesn’t dissuade them from finding Adam Sandler hilarious, or believing a twist ending equals genius.