I'm sitting in John Allemang's office on
October 20, 2000, his last day as The Globe and
Mail's television critic. It's a spacious office
containing a TV and VCR for Allemang to watch tapes of the
programs he reviews. The tapes, sent by the networks for Allemang
to study, are piled hip-deep in two of the office's four corners,
occupying entire cabinets, stacked on just about any flat surface
available. They spread across the room like soapsuds in an
episode of I Love Lucy where Lucy floods the
house while trying to do the laundry. They consume the office so
completely that it's easy to imagine Allemang wading through them
to get to his desk each day. "Take whatever you want," he offers
with a dismissive wave of his hand. Deciding I probably don't
need a 1998 episode of the fifth estate, I
politely decline. But how is he going to clear all these tapes
out of here by 5 p.m.? "There's a Dumpster waiting somewhere," he
jokes.
The sea of tapes makes for a fitting scene:
Allemang navigating the morass of mediocre programming to find
something worth watching. That's what a good TV critic is meant
to do-slosh through the mess for the reader who's too busy to get
his feet wet. But being a good TV critic, writing intelligently
about television, isn't easy. It's a thankless job. Viewers don't
believe television matters and, unlike Allemang, most TV critics
aren't inclined to try to change their minds. It is easy, after
all, to cop a condescending attitude toward the boob tube, the
idiot box, the medium charged with the dumbing down of society.
Toronto Life media columnist Robert
Fulford says people, TV critics included, like to feel superior,
"and television is something they feel they can be superior to."
A quick glance across the dial reveals that Who Wants to
Marry a Multi-Millionaire and Temptation
Island aren't exactly raising the intellectual bar.
It's junk food TV, and it's leaving us all with a bad case of gut
rot. But Canadian TV critics aren't, as Fulford suggests,
"professional scoffers" who believe themselves to be superior to
the medium they're meant to review. A look at dailies across
Canada shows that most TV writing in the country is smart and
well written. It's competent. It's good. But it's not great.
In his book On Writing Well, William
Zinsser says that good critics, true critics, do more than just
review programs (using the term "reviewer" a bit derisively), but
actually provide a cultural context for what they are reviewing,
in addition to their own opinions and thoughts. So, outlining
what happens in a given episode of Will &
Grace and then weighing in on whether it was funny or
not gets the job done, but it does little else. As renowned
former New Yorker TV critic Michael Arlen
writes in his book The View from Highway 1, a
good critic should "speak of television as if it mattered."
In every other school of criticism-film, music, literary
and theatre-there are Great Critics, critics whose writings are
required reading for anyone even peripherally involved in that
business. Movie critic Pauline Kael's columns in The New
Yorker in the '70s and '80s were must-sees in
Hollywood. "You had to read it," Fulford says of Kael's column.
"You just weren't in the business if you didn't." Today, Kael is
considered one of the most influential film critics in the
history of the medium. But television, particularly Canadian
television, has never really had that one important critic. If
television is the most truly vital and culturally significant of
all media, why is it so hard to find truly vital and significant
writing about it?
Television is a complex medium. It's
relatively cheap, it's nonelitist and it's widely available. As
such, it's arguably the most significant medium?more people are
watching television any night of the week than attending a play
or going to the movies. TV permeates our culture, yet critics
can't decide how much it matters (or whether at all), and viewers
are left wondering the same thing.
***
John Allemang, from his tape-flooded
office at The Globe and Mail's Toronto
headquarters, had the potential to be a Great Critic. He enjoyed
television and cast an educated eye on the medium, seasoning his
columns with references to Dylan Thomas and James Joyce's
Ulysses, but the paper seemed unsure what to
do with him. Apparently, the juxtaposition of a TV column in the
highbrow pages of the Globe arts section
wasn't lost on the Globe's arts section
editors (there were two in the three years Allemang had the
column). Allemang was booted around the arts section, sometimes
appearing on the second page, sometimes the seventh; one day he'd
get a whole column, another day a couple of inches. It could make
following him a bit difficult. Nonetheless, Allemang produced
sharp, clever columns, drawing on his own knowledge of television
to give his observations context within the medium. He called the
atmosphere of Bette Midler's recent sitcom "deliberately out of
date-I Love Lucy crossed with Burns
and Allen" and said the show's portrayal of Midler's
character, based closely on the star herself, "perfectly exploits
Midler's awkward relationship with fame." The piece wasn't
entirely positive, but it was refreshing to read a review that
didn't dismiss Midler's show just because, well, it starred Bette
Midler. The lack of stability within the
Globe's pages hurt Allemang's writing at
times, and his eventual decision to move on to longer features
came before he really hit his stride. Although he didn't become a
legendary TV writer, he was still pretty damn good. And while
Roger Ebert and the late Gene Siskel may be forgiven for
introducing popular culture to the notorious thumb school of
criticism, Allemang was a refreshing alternative to the
sound-bite-heavy, thumbs-up, thumbs-down reviews in other
dailies.
Sometimes the reviews in other dailies aren't
even reviews. One of the biggest problems with TV criticism
today, according to Robert Fulford, is that too much ink is
devoted to what goes on behind the scenes. "There's an awful lot
of writing about the industry-I think an awful lot more than the
public needs," says Fulford. "Many critics would much rather be
covering or criticizing a CRTC hearing than actually watching
television trying to figure out what it says or what it means."
Toronto Star television columnist
Antonia Zerbisias would rather be covering a CRTC hearing than
reviewing the new fall season-she writes reviews only because her
job calls for it. "I think of myself as a reporter on
television," she explains. "I never refer to myself as a TV
critic-it's so pretentious." Pretentious or not, it's a bit
unsettling that Canada's largest daily has a TV critic who
dislikes writing reviews.
Fortunately, a disdainful view
of criticism is not a problem at most Canadian papers. Indeed,
most TV critics at Canadian dailies do their jobs well: they
watch the programs, and pass the verdict on to the reader,
occasionally making reference to other shows and movies to
provide context. The typical formula is to review one show per
column, spending the majority of the column describing the show,
and at the end deliver the verdict. Critics like Brad Oswald at
the Winnipeg Free Press and the
Globe's Allemang all reviewed the fall 2000
retread of The Fugitive in the context of the
movie as well as the original series. (They also resisted the
temptation to slam it just because it was a remake.) Again, while
not glowing, reviews were fair. It was solid TV reviewing.
(Explaining how the show's premise does not hold up to
21st-century DNA and forensic testing, Oswald called for "a
little bit of '60s-style suspension of disbelief...but the payoff
is worthwhile.")
Oswald's treatment of The
Fugitive is indicative of Canadian television critics
today; it's actually harder than you'd think to find an example
of anti-bias from TV critics anymore. Indeed, just about every
critic claims to greatly enjoy television, and a look at their
writing proves it. The fact is, it's hard to do good work (let
alone vital work) if you hate what you do. Dan Brown, who reviews
television for the National Post (even though
the paper has no official TV critic), believes it's natural.
"People who do the best TV work are the people who are generally
enthusiastic about it," he says. "That's not just limited to TV,
though. If you want somebody who writes well about American
politics, you've got to find somebody who loves American
politics." And this, of course, is true. Canadian TV criticism is
good. Good, but not great. But someone's working on it.
*** I'm sitting in John
Allemang's office once again, only now it belongs to another
John-Doyle, the Globe's new TV critic, who is
still in the process of moving in. All that remains are the
basics: the TV and VCR, the desk, and, oh yeah, the tapes. While
Allemang said a few weeks before that the tapes were destined for
a Dumpster, Doyle found them here when he arrived to claim his
new office. Like Allemang before him, Doyle must now battle
through the deluge of little black rectangles to tell loyal
readers not only what's good and bad on TV, but what's good and
bad about TV. Doyle's been writing the daily column for only a
few weeks when I visit him, but he's already hit his groove,
turning out smart, thoughtful columns about the so-called idiot
box. Doyle, who previously wrote for the
Globe's listings magazine, Globe
Television (formerly Broadcast
Week), took over the daily television column
immediately after Allemang's departure.
If Allemang was
an above-average critic, then Doyle is well on his way to being
one of the most important TV columnists Canada has ever produced.
Doyle, like Allemang before him, clearly believes in the
importance of television as a medium and is well aware of its
cultural importance. "So much of what we know about the world,
what we know about our own society and culture, comes from
television," says Doyle. "We form our impressions through
distilled images from television."
Much of Doyle's
writing is about those images, rather than the programs
themselves. During the Canadian federal election last November,
Doyle regularly devoted segments of his columns to the election
and its coverage, often discussing how politicians manipulate
television for their benefit. For example, in October, Canadian
Alliance leader Stockwell Day used giant prop markers to circle
blown-up newspaper headlines about the auditor general's report.
"It was dimwittedly simple," Doyle wrote of the tactic in his
October 26 column, "and anyone who thinks this kind of unalloyed
electioneering is too corny for a modern electorate is in for a
surprise." The mere fact Doyle wrote about the election in his
television column at all is remarkable?even more so is the fact
that his columns were sharper than those of many political
reporters. "Sure, some of Stockwell Day's antics look like cheap
ads for an insurance company," Doyle continues, "but they have a
visceral impact, sticking in the minds of viewers."
Because Doyle is the only TV critic at a Canadian daily
today who writes about matters as complex as how an election
plays out on television, sometimes he seems like the only critic
who truly understands the power of television. And while there's
nothing necessarily wrong with the one-show-per-column formula,
Doyle prefers to cover two or three shows each time. This format,
in addition to allowing him to discuss several shows each day,
gives him the opportunity to write about a TV-related issue (like
the election) and still have space to squeeze in a proper review.
Reviews aside, the thing that makes John Doyle the most
likely candidate to become a Great Critic is the fact that he
doesn't write about what's on television; he writes about
television itself. He, like Michael Arlen before him, uses the TV
column to write about issues, something that has gone out of
style with other TV critics. For Doyle, television is more than
the idiot box, where the lowest common denominator can gawk at
hokey reality programs or insipid sitcoms. Doyle believes that
television is worthy of respect. "That doesn't mean it's the
best," says Doyle, "but it is the most important and
influential."
That John Doyle understands this is
certainly a good sign. It means that someone is looking at
television as a cultural force, that someone is looking deeper at
the medium that most closely mirrors our society. It means that
someone is finally producing truly important work about TV. John
Doyle doesn't just write about television as if it mattered; he
knows it does.