My Ten Commandments of Film Reviewing
The Dillon Empire’s sacred tenets for aspiring film critics.
A few people recently asked me for advice on writing film reviews. I decided to respond with this article, offering suggestions that will hopefully prove useful to aspiring critics. I should add that I don’t consider myself the best person to ask. For one thing, I’ve never been a full-time professional film critic. For another, there are other reviewers on Medium more knowledgeable, thoughtful, and erudite than yours truly. However, it is true that I’ve been writing film reviews for about twenty years, occasionally in a professional capacity. So for what it is worth, here are the Dillon Empire’s Ten Commandments of Film Reviewing.
1. Thou Shalt Not Be an Ignoramus
If you claim to be serious about reviewing, but refuse to watch black and white films, silent films, non-English language films, films by artists who have been “cancelled”, or anything from the 20th Century, that needs to change immediately. Read this, and if that doesn’t convince you, stop pretending to be a film buff and go back to TikTok.
2. Thou Shalt Immerse Thyself in Film Lore
Cinematic knowledge takes years to build, so a serious investment of time is required. I spent my teenage years inhaling cinema history as though it were oxygen, at the expense of many other activities. I have no regrets.
3. Thou Shalt Develop an Appreciation for All Genres
It is no good giving acknowledged classics like The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance or The Wild Bunch bad reviews simply because you don’t like westerns. That isn’t to say you can’t criticise them, but you must do so in a legitimate manner. For example, you could contest that The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance works less well than The Searchers, because some of the obvious studio sets jar in contrast with the location work. Or you could argue that despite undoubtedly groundbreaking and influential techniques in depicting violence onscreen, The Wild Bunch contains the same misogynist undercurrent inherent in much of Sam Peckinpah’s work.
Be careful, however, because…
4. Thou Shalt Learn the Difference Between Review and Polemic
A film review is not the place to grind an axe about your pet peeves concerning politics, religion, or social justice causes. That’s a polemic, and has no place in a film review. The concept of objective journalism may be considered an oxymoron these days, but nonetheless, a film reviewer must set aside such biases as best they can. It is no good reviewing, say, a faith-themed film like The Passion of the Christ or Silence with: “I’m an atheist, therefore this film is rubbish”. Also, be careful when addressing elements of the film that might be considered racist, sexist, homophobic, and so forth. Don’t degenerate into a whiny rant. If you find something problematic in the film, address it by all means, but do so logically and factually, not emotionally. Which brings me to…
5. Thou Shalt Remain Objective and Go Easy on the Hyperbole
Do not merely consider whether you like the film. Think critically about your own biases and genre preferences. Serenity was wildly overpraised by science fiction fans in certain quarters claiming it to be as groundbreaking as Star Wars, which clearly it isn’t. When viewed objectively, it is more akin to an above-average Star Trek film.
Conversely, just because you hate a film doesn’t necessarily make it bad. I’ve seen many brilliantly acted, written, and directed films that I hated. Amour, Cries and Whispers, Son of Saul, Requiem for a Dream, Foxcatcher… I’m very glad I saw these, but nothing could ever induce me to watch them again. The best response is to consider your reader, and where a film doesn’t necessarily have universal appeal, point that out.
6. Thou Shalt Learn the Difference Between “Favourite” and “Greatest”
Be very careful throwing around terms like “Greatest” and “Classic”. I put it to you that a film must be at least ten years old to be considered a classic or the greatest anything. The best films are like fine wines or single malt whisky. They mature with age and speak to every successive generation. Carelessly attributing greatness to a film that may prove a mere blip in the cultural zeitgeist is a rookie error for many an aspiring film critic. Conversely, it is acceptable to say something is a favourite, because that makes the matter entirely personal to the critic.
One additional related point: Your review isn’t a blood oath. You don’t have to cling to that opinion for the rest of your life. Don’t be ashamed to change your mind about a film. For instance, I viewed No Time to Die much more kindly at first. Then, once I realised I had serious misgivings, I wrote this piece (with appropriate spoiler warnings, of course).
7. Thou Shalt Not Feign a Knowledge Not Yet Attained
If you’ve not seen that obscure Polish film referenced in Sight and Sound, don’t use it as a point of comparison in your review. It will come off as phoney and pretentious, and if you don’t mention it, no one will think any less of you. There are still many key films I have yet to see, and I have no shame in admitting it.
As an aside to this point, it is vitally important to bear in mind the publication for which you are writing. Sight and Sound is fairly intellectual and academic, so yes, comparisons with obscure Polish films are appropriate (assuming you have actually seen them). Such comparisons are unlikely to endear you if you’re writing for less highbrow publications. For example, Kim Newman has written for Empire and Sight and Sound, but there’s a marked tonal difference in his pieces for both magazines.
This applies to all film writing, not just reviews. I had a significantly different editorial remit from Fanfare’s editor Eric Pierce, who wanted something highly personal for this piece on E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, compared with what Frame Rated’s editor Dan Owen wanted for this more academic piece on westerns. Similarly, when writing for The Guardian, I had to bear in mind their parameters when penning this piece on UK film classification.
8. Thou Shalt Not Spoil
This one ought to be obvious, particularly for reviewing new releases. However, I would apply it to retrospective reviews and articles about older films as well, since younger generations deserve not to have big surprises spoiled just because they have been absorbed into the public consciousness by cultural osmosis. If you must discuss spoilers, preface them or the article with a clear warning.
When outlining the plot, my rule of thumb is to stick to act one only, and only hint at complications to follow in vague terms. For example, one might describe the plot of The Wicker Man thus: A devout Christian policeman visits a remote pagan island community off the west coast of Scotland in a search for a missing girl, leading to unsettling and horrifying discoveries. Since the film in question is a horror film, one would expect horrifying discoveries, but spelling them out would ruin the story.
When describing plot, apply common sense, since sometimes even act one turns revealed in trailers can spoil enjoyment. Spider-Man: No Way Home is a good recent example. Occasionally, it isn’t necessary to describe the plot at all. The aforementioned No Time to Die is another film I felt benefited from being seen with no prior plot knowledge.
Sometimes a mere mention of genre will suffice. Occasionally even that isn’t needed. When I came to review Parasite, I felt it was a film best approached with as little knowledge of the plot as possible, and also of the genre, since it blended so many. I confined myself to discussion of the themes, performances, direction, and other technical aspects, as well as urging readers that it was an intensely gripping, unique must-see that worked on multiple levels.
9. Thou Shalt Be Entertaining
Barry Norman was my favourite critic when I was growing up. I didn’t always agree with him, but he was unfailingly witty and engaging, with a kindly demeanour that shone through despite his frequently scathing cynicism. For this reason he had mass appeal outside of film buff circles, just as Mark Kermode has similar mass appeal today. The goal for any film reviewer should be to entertain as well as inform. In doing so, personality traits become inherent in the writing. People end up wanting to read your reviews not because they are necessarily interested in the film, but because you wrote them.
10. Thou Shalt Go to the Cinema
This may also seem obvious, but it needs to be said in this dark and terrible era of streaming: The best place to see a film is in the cinema. Go at least two or three times a week, unless the film you are reviewing is not being shown in cinemas (typically, I don’t review anything unavailable in cinemas, though I made a few exceptions during the recent Covid lockdowns).
Also, as an aside to this last commandment, attend press screenings if possible. They are ideal if geographically doable, and if you can get yourself on a press list. It is essential if writing for mainstream media publications (which I’ve only done very occasionally). I managed to blag my way onto a press list as a student, which I’d also recommend if you’re an up-and-coming reviewer and can swing it. But these days I’m in the wrong part of the country to attend, so I review films after seeing them on general release.
I hope that is useful to all budding film reviewers.
Author’s note: I hope you enjoyed this article. For more about me and my writing on Medium, please click here. For information on my writing outside Medium, please click here. For a list of my published novels and other works, please click here.
