Last week, Vulture ran a piece that I’ve been waiting for years to drop. The article is titled “The Decomposition of Rotten Tomatoes: The most overrated metric in movies is erratic, reductive, and easily hacked — and yet has Hollywood in its grip.”
(I don’t expect any of you to actually read the article, but thankfully the title is obnoxiously descriptive)
Finally. FINALLY.
I’ve hated Rotten Tomatoes for years. I can’t pinpoint exactly when that hatred first began, but it certainly wasn’t helped by their unwavering support for the spandex-clad mediocrity that’s been shoveled in our faces for the last 17 years—superhero movies.
30/32 Marvel movies between the years 2008 and 2023 are “Certified Fresh.”
30…out of 32…is this a joke?
Let me be clear, I like many of the movies on that list. In fact, some of them I’d say I genuinely loved. But if you’re really trying to tell me that 93% of the superhero films produced over the last 2 decades are quality movies…I don’t know what to tell you.
I mean just look at the names of these movies. Age of Ultron? Multiverse of Madness? Quantumania? QUANTUMANIA?!?
Good grief. We used to be a serious nation. We used to believe in something. (lol)
Sorry sorry, I’m off topic, this wasn’t supposed to be about Marvel.
The reason I bring up R-Tom in the first place is to acknowledge the tradeoff humanity has made with compressed and decontextualized information.
When was the last time you read an actual movie review by an actual film critic? I would imagine “never” is the most common answer here. And honestly, that’s fine! It’s not even something I do very often, and I’m kinda obsessed with movies.
But people used to actually do that ya know? Read reviews.
Sit down with a newspaper in their lap and see what good ol’ Rogert E. had to say about things. Maybe your taste wasn’t the same as his, but at least you knew that. Maybe he hated the movies you love, but at least you understood why.
Contextualized disagreements are infinitely more valuable vessels of information than a flattened statistic.
But if you build a game, people will play it. If you only ask for a number, that’s all you’ll get.
Sigh.
There’s something I need to admit. Something I haven’t said publicly until now.
I didn’t really like the Barbie movie.
Ya. I know.
Up until now, when people asked me what I thought of Barbie, I’d intentionally make vague (but true) statements to shift the conversations in another direction. Statements like “I had so much fun going” or “it was really cute, definitely some good laughs” buuuuuut no, I didn’t actually like the movie. For me, most of the jokes didn’t really land, and it all felt a bit dorky.
(Yes, I know I myself am a massive dork, but I’m still entitled to my opinions!)
Why tell you all this? Because whether or not I LIKED the movie should hardly matter. Did I like it? Who cares. Let’s try some better questions.
Was it well made? Yes
Was it well acted? Yes
Did I have fun? Yes
Was I glad I went? Yes
Was it original? Yes
Did it feel important? Yes
Now I’m a lifelong movie lover, so pure entertainment is probably lower on my list than it is for most people, but still. I hope you take my point.
Compress my opinions and you’d think I hated Barbie.
Count my steps and you’d think I wasn’t healthy.
Check my Duolingo scores and you’ll think I’m fluent in Spanish.
Numbers lie all the time. Talk to people.