Rob Gilroy: Reviewing The Reviewers
Following on from last week’s Fringe-themed column, I thought I would talk about comedy reviews.
To be clear, I’m not writing this as someone who has only received negative-to-impartial responses from critics, I am writing this as a neutral party. Objectively discussing the merits and pitfalls (of which there are many) of comedy reviews.
(My two-star review from a certain, un-named website, did not affect my approach to this piece in any way. Despite the fact it was clearly written by somebody who has only a passing acquaintance with their brain cells.)
I’m not going up to the Fringe this year yet I’ve been reading reviews as they come in. Partly to see which shows are doing well, partly to see who the up-and-comers are and partly to see people I know and care for, fail dramatically. It’s a heady mixture of intrigue, support and blatant schadenfreude – and I’m OK with that.
The other day I was on Twitter, championing this site’s quality of reviews. Now before you think I’m only doing that because they pay me, let’s be clear about this – they don’t pay me. At all. Not a sodding penny. Therefore my allegiances don’t lie with any website – although for the right fee I’ll lie down with anyone.
That said, I’ve read quite a few of the Giggle Beats reviews and while I don’t always agree with them, I do feel they strike the right balance between criticism and support.
Other popular review sites are a lot vaguer in their approach – I often find myself reading a one-star review that seems as though the performer can do no wrong or five-star reviews that pick the show apart. It’s like some sort of schizophrenic riddle; “My first is in ‘hack’ but also in ‘comic genius’…”
I often pity the comics looking for the perfect quote for their flyer. Come on, we all do it – leaving the ‘un’ off ‘very unfunny’, crossing out the negative words in printed reviews and making it look like the magazine’s house style, or reordering a review to create a ransom note of celebration.
Yet, I often read reviews that offer no quotable lines whatsoever. While I’m not saying they should – after all; who relies on the quotes of a slapdash institution that publishes online reviews? – I do think it’s symptomatic of evaluations that are written in such a way that you can’t decipher the intention behind them.
I also don’t know what to think about comparisons to other comics. In some ways they offer shorthand for audiences but other times it just reads as a lazy simile – like when authors use examples that are obvious and don’t serve to enhance the writing but do go on for an inordinate amount of time.
The downside of comparisons is that, when an act is bad or still finding their feet, these links just serve to denigrate someone for sharing a similar style to Johnny-Big-TV-Show.
Most people share stylistic traits with each other. Like any art form, it constantly influences itself and recycles these techniques – no one ever criticised the Renaissance artists for being a bit too God-heavy with their work. Everyone wears their influences on their sleeve, especially when they’re starting out but you can’t hold that against them.
Unless of course, the reviewer doesn’t even understand what it is they’re watching. That leaves them open to interpreting a show in any number of ways that can’t be controlled, no matter how many letters you write to the editor.
Another problem is overly descriptive reviews – less a critique, more a blow-by-blow account of what happens in the show. While I understand the need to reveal certain elements, it’s another thing entirely to regale the entire show like some shitty commentary for the blind. It spoils elements that acts have worked hard to make surprising, as well as offering little to no insight into how competent they are. If I want someone to describe my actions in boring detail and give no helpful advice then I’ll call EE about my broken phone.
And then we get to student reviewers – the bane of any number of comics at the Fringe. Not me though, I rise above it. I have the good grace to see the downfalls without feeling the need to comment on them. Not least in bite-sized chunks of 944 characters, all of which are mindless and inept guff. Not me, I’m better than that.
I can see the benefit of student reviewers – they’re cheap and desperate for work; the open spots of the reviewing world, if you will. But – as has been clear on a couple of high profile occasions already this year – if their lack of experience is reflected in the accuracy of their critiques, then you’ve got a problem.
While everybody’s opinion is valid (except Fringe-going morons who only want to crush someone in prose!), if people who aren’t used to seeing comedy are left to write professional reviews for high-profile sites, then what chance does anyone have? It would be like a no-armed man offering golfers tips on their swing. I understand everyone needs a chance to gain experience in their line of work, but if that has the possibility of directly influencing the success of somebody else, then you need to be more careful.
There are definite plus sides to reviews – it’s nice for acts to get recognition and if that recognition results in more paying customers then it’s no bad thing. Reviews can be incredibly useful for finding other acts you may like – if you have a trusted source then there’s a good chance you can gamble on seeing someone you otherwise might not have bothered with. There are clear benefits, but when audiences and comedians are overrun with multiple opinions, it wouldn’t hurt for there to be more quality control.
I have a lot of respect for reviewers because it isn’t an easy job. The best reviewers inform and entertain, whilst keeping respect for the art form they’re judging. The worst ones come to my shows.
