Recently, some disputes (i.e. comments from people with nothing better to do) have arisen regarding some of my designations at Rotten Tomatoes. How dare I change my "fresh" status of Up to "rotten" - the nerve! I won't deny the satisfaction that comes from a much-commented upon post (34 and counting), and surely, being only one of five green splotches out of 200 does make one stand out. But whereas I left the screening of Up feeling a bit let down (deflated?), it wasn't until a few days later that the overall distaste became more apparent. It was at this point that I decided to let my less-than-pleased voice be heard. Admittedly, I prefer to leave reviews untouched once they've been published, but when so very little is required to tip the scales, methinks a short amount of hindsight should be allowed to creep its way in. (I hope to see Up again, and soon. It is not lightly I say the film disappointed me, and what was good was so good that I sincerely hope the rest of it goes down smoother next time.)

Which leads me to the thought of how ridiculously silly the whole fresh/rotten concept is when taken to the extreme, however necessary it may be to the marketability of criticism (even Roger Ebert, who patented the thumbs up/thumbs down system, has lamented the constrictions it imposes). Anyone to have even somewhat frequently visited this site beyond the recent past will surely have noticed the complete visual overhaul (thank you, Ryan), part of which includes the removal of assigned ratings on individual reviews. This has undoubtedly been the greatest of several anxiety-reducing reliefs I've enjoyed as a result of this process (for the record, though, I've retained high and low ratings on RT for the sake of my best- and worst-reviewed film pages, which I consider excellent resources). What better way to kill a discussion of the arts than to flatten a numeric or alphabetical key and call it a day?

Recently I met a girl who told me their boyfriend only saw those films with an 85% or higher Tomatometer score (best pronounced tohm-muh-tom-me-ter); it took every ounce of sociability in my being to not rag on that hideous bit of flawed logic. Sure, something that appeals to almost everybody stands a chance at actually being good, but even though I enjoy The King, the cliche is true: 50 million Elvis fans can be wrong. Such attitudes speak volumes about the diminished role of opinion diversity in today's culture, both for movies and at large. They also ignore the fact that a movie that everyone only kind of likes will easily score higher than a movie that divides audiences into categories of equal love and hate; so much for challenging ourselves or that adventurous virtue of trying new things. More often than not, I'd rather see what's sparked conflicting discussions than mere praise, and it's no surprise that some of my favorite films from recent years are all of rotten status, or nearly so.

Anymore, it means more to simply like or dislike something than to express why one feels the way they do - a surface-bound approach that is superficial at best, aggressively regressive at worst (as Medfly Quarantine's Ryan Kelly aptly puts it, "this ADD wave of film criticism"). Just look at what pigeonhole-obsessed modes of thought have done to our political health: if you're not with us, you're against us, red state/blue state, rightwing nutjob or baby-killing liberal. It's a form of logic I can't stand because it forgoes progress for pride and perpetuates the notion that it's better to "be right" in the moment than to work together in order to approach a long-term solution. Quotes Roger Ebert, "It is not enough to like a film. One must like it for the right reasons." The same applies to all aspects and walks of life. Of course, I will still use Rotten Tomatoes, as both a critic and user; the problem here is not the tool, but how it has been wielded. Some might be happy with the red and green offered by that titular fruit. I want the whole god damn rainbow.