See, I was thinking about the whole notion of…Canadianisms. That is: things, ideas, and phrases that are distinctly Canadian. This relates to a recurring theme of mine, about Canadian movies, TV, books, etc. and how and whether they reflect the day-to-day Canadian experience and culture. Often Canadian-made entertainment deliberately pretends it isn’t Canadian, usually being set in the United States with American characters, or it will be a “soft” Canadian, nominally being set in Canada…but studiously avoiding any references or ideas that might seem too idiosyncratically Canadian, all done supposedly in the name of securing acceptance in the international market place. Or — more bizarrely — because the filmmakers find being too archly Canadian “embarrassing”.

Yet the flip side of that is what is clearly, unarguably, Canadian? What colloquial phrasings, or scenes, would immediately announce to anyone in the audience that this was a story set nowhere but in The Land God Gave to Cain? (A phrase which, itself, is specifically Canadian…supposedly being how explorer Jacques Cartier described the rugged Canadian landscape when he first espied it…and, I’m guessing, found it intimidating).

There are things that are “Canadian” that are actually shared with European cultures, or the British Commonwealth…but which aren’t shared with the United States. So it’s uniquely Canadian in that it might be a European custom, holiday, or colloquialism in the context of a North American culture and people with North American accents.

Yet sometimes people can strain too hard to identify such “Canadianisms” — not necessarily making them up out of whole cloth, but certainly inflating their ubiquitousness. In a country as geographically vast and culturally diverse as Canada, certain regions might well have unique expressions and customs…but they wouldn’t be recognized by the majority of Canadians. And sometimes people assume their experiences are intrinsically Canadian…not realizing they themselves are actually the odd man out.

A while back I was making change for a guy and he asked for a “deuce”. I hesitated and then in my erudite and articulate way queried: “huh?” To which he responded: “Two dollars.” And then, with a slightly pejorative tone to his voice, asked: “You an American or somethin’?” It was a funny exchange because though there was nothing inherently wrong with his asking for a “deuce”, which after all means “two”…I don’t think anyone would see it as a uniquely Canadian expression that only an American could possibly fail to recognize. Indeed, the more common Canadian expression for two dollars (at least in the last few decades) is “toonie” (or “twoonie” or however you choose to spell it).

I hear the word toonie multiple times in a day — I can guarantee that if you say “toonie” in Canada, pretty much everyone will know what you mean — but never before had I heard the expression “deuce”, not in real life. No doubt this guy used the expression deuce a lot, and maybe his friends did, and that’s fine…but then he made the assumption that just because he did, everyone who claimed Canadian citizenship must do so likewise. Which is why talking about “Canadianisms” can be tricky — because people aren’t always able to step outside themselves enough to really ask if this is truly part of the majority culture or not.

It can be funny to come upon message board discussions where people, in all apparent sincerity, will try to set the record straight on aspects of Canada…and you can kind of find yourself wondering what alternate reality universe do they live in? Yet they can be quite adamant that what they are saying is the unarguable truth, and any who disagrees clearly doesn’t know the country as well as they. Like one poster who insisted the R.C.M.P. was pretty much a marginalized, law enforcement joke and of no relevance to modern Canada — when (uniformed) R.C.M.P. officers still act as the provincial police in most provinces (ie: analogous to state police in the U.S.) and are in fact the sole policing body in some small towns — and (plain clothes) mounties are the federal police force (analogous to the F.B.I.). I suspect most modern “mounties”…have never even ridden a horse!

Partly it can be because these sort of posters only know two worlds — the one immediately out side their door, in their neighbourhood, among their friends…and the world described to them by American media (news, movies, books) because they don’t actually read Canadian newspapers or listen to CBC radio. And so they assume no other reality exists. So for the above poster — he had presumably never met a mountie, and never saw them referenced much in Hollywood movies (except as a joke) so failed to realize that maybe he just didn’t have a particularly wide grasp of the realities of his own country.

Sometimes the very anonymity Canada has in foreign countries can lead to people claiming things about Canadian culture abroad that would leave most Canadians scratching their heads. Like Canadian celebrities who will move to Hollywood, and claim in interviews with the U.S. press that they are “super stars” in Canada…when most Canadians couldn’t pick them out of a line up. Or I came upon a message board posting by someone (an American, I believe) praising Canadian filmmaker Atom Egoyan, and declaring that Egoyan is a star in Canada, and a mention of his name will strike any Canadian dumb with awe. Now, truth in labelling laws require I point out: I’m not a big Egoyan fan. But the truth is, most Canadians have never heard of Egoyan (and I say this having talked both to those who fancy themselves fans of the kind of arty cinema of which he’s a practitioner…and those who like mainstream movies, but have an interest and affection for Canadiana). Now sure, maybe at a film festival, with people lined up to see his movie, that crowd will react with adulation…but that’d be a bit like going to a tractor pulling contest and declaring all Canadians love tractor pulling because everyone there said they liked tractor pulling. Say “Atom Egoyan” to most man-in-the-street Canadians and odds are they’ll respond: “Fine…and yourself?” (you’ll chuckle when you think about it). Now despite my not being a fan of Egoyan…this isn’t a particular dig at him. Other than David Cronenberg, and ex-pats like Norman Jewison and James Cameron, it’s not like there are too many widely famous Canadian directors anyway. I’m not saying Egoyan is less famous than others…I’m just saying he’s well known largely among a niche demographic.

Anyway….

Doing a quick google on the topic of Canadianisms, I came upon some sites devoted to Canadianisms here and here (and I’m sure there are more, feel free to google it). And what was funny about them was some terms I heartily recognized, some were enlightening because I was unfamiliar with them, but only because that particular topic doesn’t necessarily come up for me a lot — but others struck me as parochially regional (as opposed to “Canadian”), and still more seemed a little odd, unlikely, or highly debateable.

Heck, two of the most familiar Canadianisms out there are the put down “hoser” and its sister phrase “take off” — both popularized by the comedy characters Bob & Doug McKenzie that became an international phenomenon back in the 1980s. Except — I’m pretty sure those expressions were just made up for the characters (partly to provide “swear” expressions that could be uttered on primetime TV). Or, at best, they took pretty regional expressions and made them seem more widespread. The only time I’ve ever heard Canadians actually use either of those terms is either when they are specifically referring to Bob & Doug…or are trying to be deliberately, self-consciously, Canadian. I’ve never heard either expression used in a truly organic, un-selfconscious context. Now — that doesn’t mean they aren’t common in, say, North Ontario mining towns or something. But I can only go by my experiences — and my experience is that if, say, a foreign spy were to try to go undercover as a Canadian and say, “Take off, you hoser!” he’d be unmasked in seconds.

With that said, other Canadianisms popularized by Bob & Doug are, in fact, not uncommon to the culture — from the toques on their heads to the use of the term, “eh?” (though even these apply to specific groups: not too many Canadian university professors finish their sentences with, “eh?”).

And because Canada is a culture constantly in flux, growing evolving, and receiving new immigrants, Canadianisms can change over time. As well, I think Canadians can latch onto things (say, from Europe) precisely to distinguish themselves from the United States.

When the Austin Powers movies were big, the term “shag” started to crop up in Canadian circles a few times, though I had never previously come across it (but maybe it enjoyed a similar popularity in the United States). The term “fag” currently is seen as an offensive slur in North America (though a hundred years ago it had far more innocuous definitions, being both an abbreviation of “fatigue”, as in “I ran up the hill and now I’m fagged” or a short form for a stick of wood, also know as faggot, a word also with a negative meaning today) yet most people know that in the UK, a fag is a slang term for a cigarette (perhaps relating to that earlier stick of wood origin). I don’t associate it with Canada much, but in the Canadian series Slings & Arrows, about the behind the scenes of a theatre troupe, they used the term fag to mean cigarettes. And I wasn’t sure if they just did that as an affectation to distinguish the setting from the United States, or whether among Canadian theatre types it is a common use of the term (given Canada’s theatrical traditional was heavily influenced by the influx of British performers over the years, it wouldn’t be unusual for theatre slang in Canada to have deeper British roots than the mainstream culture).

Funnily, glancing at some of those other web pages about Canadianisms, I was surprised — not by things they said were common in Canada — but by the fact they apparently aren’t known in the U.S. I mean, I was recently amazed to discover that in the States they don’t have…Boxing Day! I mean, how could I have watched all those Hollywood Christmas themed movies over the years and not noticed there was no Boxing Day? (I suppose Christmas movies usually end on Christmas Day!) Other occasions I knew — like what we call Remembrance Day Americans call something else, and that Canadian Thanksgiving occurs earlier than the American one (though was influenced by it, one assumes). Or apparently homogenized milk isn’t called homogenized milk in the U.S. (and certainly isn’t abbreviated to “homo”).

But just as I say I sometimes question whether certain expressions are as Canadian as others claim…I also wonder if other expressions are as uniquely Canadian as is suggested. I’ve heard in a few places (including from an American) that the slang term “bum” (referring to the human posterior) is not used in the United States (though it is a U.K. expression, I believe)…but I’ve never know if that was really true or not, or whether it’s just not as widespread, but would still be recognized by many Americans. (Bum also refers to a hobo in both countries, as well as to mooch something — or is it not used that way in the States either?) Is it true that Americans say “soda” when referring to “soda pop”? (Canadians generally say “pop”). In Canada, french fries are generally known as “fries”…yet those little trucks in parking lots that sell hot dogs, french fries, etc., are generally referred to as “chip trucks” (from the U.K. use of the term “chip” meaning french fries) — yet I’ve heard from some places that an American would not understand the phrase “chip truck” (or would assume it meant something that collected tree mulch).

I was surprised a few years ago when I wrote a Twilight Zone-ish short story (Pvt. Parker, Missing in Action) and in it referred to a mickey of booze and the American editor to whom I submitted it said the term gave him pause…because he only associated the word with an illicitly drugged drink (as in a mickey finn). He willingly accepted my use of the term for the story (since the narrator was Canadian) but I was surprised…because it hadn’t occurred to me it wasn’t an American term (a mickey being analogous to, I guess, a flask…you know, the kind of thing that has saved many a cowboy’s life from a bullet in old westerns). Given I’m not much of a drinker, I would’ve assumed I had picked up the term reading American novels…but I guess not.

Of course, because a lot of Canadian terms owe their origin to Europe and the U.K. specifically…the irony is, a lot of these terms were also used in America, but for some reason fell out of usage, so they are not so much foreign to them…but old fashioned. In much the same way that you can sometimes read American novels published a hundred years ago…and they’ll use the British spelling of words rather than the modern, American spelling.

Even pronunciation can be debated. There’s often the cliche that Canadians say “shedule” rather than “schedule” — and I assume this is the “proper” way given it seems to be the house style on the CBC (all announcers pronouncing the word “SHedule”)…yet the brutal truth is, in common, man in the street usage, most people I’ve heard seem to say “Skedule”). Indeed, I’ve alternated back and forth myself (since I have no preference) and will sometimes have people assume I’m British when I say “SHedule”. Presumably a reflection of the omnipresent American culture next door altering the language. Yet, as such, it’s almost remarkable the way Canadian expressions and pronunciations do hold on. Most Canadians do pronounce the letter Z as “zed” and say “leftenant” as opposed to “lootenant”. (Though curiously, in the TV series Republic of Doyle, where the actors have quite pronounced Newfoundland accents…some of these pronunciations can lean toward the American…go figure!)

There can be a Canadian accent that I, as a Canadian, am not even aware of, yet I’ll sometimes come upon message boards where American posters will write about how distracting they found a movie supposedly set in the United States, supposedly about American-born characters…yet the actors have Canadian accents!

Some distinctions — or the reasons for a distinction — in such “Canadianisms” listings I can quibble about. I came upon one place where it was said Canadians object to calling Americans “Americans” because, technically, we’re all Americans in the western hemisphere. And that the common Canadian term for The United States is “The States”.

Weeelll. Some of that I’d say is true. Certainly Canadians commonly refer to the U.S. as “The States” as in: “My friend down in the States” or “How much is postage to the States?” But Canadians do also say “America”. And I think it is generally common and accepted to refer to people from The United States of America as “Americans”…certainly, I’ve never heard a replacement term (“USAers?”, “Statesians?”, “Dem fellahs down south a-ways, b’y?”). Indeed, the only times I’ve usually seen people object to the term “America”, and magnanimously arguing that we are “all Americans”, are in fact…Americans. And I’ve been a little suspicious of the agenda behind that (since, as I say, no substitute phrase or term is proffered) — it more seems like it’s an attempt, not to point out we all belong to the American hemisphere, but to erode Canadians’ sense of a distinct culture. After all, they aren’t so much saying not to call people from the U.S. “Americans”…but that they feel it’s appropriate to call Canadians…”Americans” (strangely, in these cases they’re a bit vaguer as to whether Mexicans, or Argentineans, should be considered “Americans”, too).

It might seem odd to well meaning Americans, but Canadians don’t always find it comforting when Americans feel the best compliment they can give to Canada is to say: “why…we don’t even think of you as a separate country.” Given the USA’s history of Manifest Destiny and even the War of 1812…Canadians actually get nervous when Americans talk that way!

This piece feels like it should be building up to my own list of “Canadianisms”…but, honestly, it’s kind of gotten a bit long as it is. A while back I wrote an essay (here) along these lines, even cheekily suggesting there were things that were almost forbidden by filmmakers desperate to try and present a generic, anonymous (ie: Americanized) Canada. So that’s one list — though funnily, a few of those taboos actually seem to have been broken in the last year or two, as if maybe a new wind is blowing through Canada’s creative halls (heck, maybe someone read my essay and was galvanized to act upon it). Current series like King, Republic of Doyle, Arctic Air, The Listener are more matter-of-factly Canadian than a lot of Canadian series have been in the recent past.

So maybe we’ll continue this topic…next time.

Now, obviously, since I’m writing a blog post — I’m not exactly unbiased on the topic. But I do think we’re getting into a particularly weird and elitist area when we say: some people have a right to opine, and to have their opinion taken seriously…and some people don’t. When surely the only litmus test is whether the writer (whether a “professional” newspaper critic, or a self-posting blogger) is articulate and seems to have genuinely put thought and consideration into forming their opinion (and goodness knows I’ve read plenty of “professional” reviews that are none of those things).

So anyway — I guess this ended up being a fairly topical subject for my blog after all!

Now, here’s the thing: of course if you’re an artist (a filmmaker, a writer, a conductor, whatever) you don’t like bad reviews. And, of course, if you’re a fan of a work, you can bristle if others hate it, or, perhaps worse, dismiss it blithely. I know — I’ve been in both camps myself. But most of us, whether a creator, or a fan of a creator, accept reviews — opinions — are part of the game. And sometimes, negative reviews can even be helpful and constructive if you (as a creator) perceive some truth in the criticism.

Yet some people don’t accept negative reviews as just part of the game. And will react quite strenuously.

But people rarely object to good reviews, to accolades heaped on them by the press, by awards showered on them at film festivals. Movies and TV shows are often screened in advance for critics in hopes of getting good reviews out there before the public. So clearly they don’t mind opinions, or people promulgating those opinions — as long as it’s in the creator’s favour.

So if you want to accept good reviews…you have to be prepared to respect negative reviews, too.

And the irony is those quick to denigrate someone’s right to express a negative opinion are often themselves more than eager to negatively dismiss something else. Fans of “challenging” European movies…who will blithely dismiss all “Hollywood” films as puerile. The Art House director who, in interviews, will happily take pot shots at all those crass filmmakers toward whom he sees himself as being superior. Take Canadian actor/writer/director Ken Finkleman (and it’s perhaps unfair to drag him into this debate since, off hand, I can’t say whether he objects to negative reviews, or whether perhaps he embraces them as valid parts of the creative process). But I’ve only read/seen a few interviews with him…and it doesn’t seem to require much to set him off dissing films like Saving Private Ryan, or even rock bands like Bachman-Turner Overdrive. Clearly Finkleman doesn’t feel critical opinions should be kept to one’s self!

Now obviously there’s the old “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything” philosophy. That it’s fine to praise a work you like, but if you don’t like it, no, you don’t have to lie and say you do…but you should shut up. (Though even this can backfire: years ago, when the TV series Star Trek: The Next Generation was first airing, stars of the original Star Trek were often asked their opinion and they tended to be coy, saying they hadn’t watched it yet — and fans of the new Star Trek were quick to berate the actors for this lack of support, it not occurring to them that maybe the actors had seen the new show, didn’t like it, but were too diplomatic to say so).

I’ve seen some magazines that specifically say they only publish good reviews — that there’s enough dreck out there, so they want to promote the good stuff. I can sort of see that — except, first off, I often don’t bother reading such reviews for the same reason I might not read a story where I already know how it ends. Part of the reason you read a review is to see what the reviewer has to say. If you know the review is going to be positive before you even turn to the page it’s on…then you know what the reviewer is going to say! More to the point, it can inadvertently hurt the reputation of works that aren’t reviewed…because the audience will be left unsure if the reason it wasn’t reviewed is because it’s terrible, or the magazine simply hadn’t got around to it yet! At least if good and bad reviews are published, then no review can be construed as simply…no review.

Besides, what about works that have both good and bad aspects?

But the question is: is a review there to serve the artist…or the audience? Artists would say: it’s about promoting them! Them! THEM! But it’s actually a little of both. Obviously a reviewer wants to promote a good work…but equally, the reviewer wants to “save” the audience from wasting their time on something that might not be very good.

The only way a “ban bad reviews” attitude can be justified — maybe – is if the filmmaker (or the conductor, or whatever the artistic field) made their production with their own money, isn’t charging the audience to see it, and probably is only offering invitations to a select few, as opposed to the general public. But once you are expecting people to pay you money for the privilege of basking in your genius, or even give up two hours of their lives (not counting travel time and parking), then the audience has a right to be forewarned that the experience might not be all that was promised. Otherwise you’re just a snake oil salesman, rolling into town, conning people out of their hard earned money for potentially a bottle of nothing more than watered down corn syrup — and beating up the sheriff in a back alley when he comes around asking to see your medical credentials.

What’s also odd (and why I question whether people who argue against reviews even believe it themselves) is every step of the way — a film (or any artistic enterprise) is reviewed. By producers, by executives, by funding committees. Not everyone who wants to make a film gets to make a film. Not every script that is submitted gets put before a camera. There just isn’t the money. If there was no pre-production review process, if some projects weren’t deemed “worthy” and others “unworthy”, no movie would ever be made…or each would be made for a budget of about $27.00! So how can someone criticize negative reviews (without being a hypocrite) when their very career is based on the fact that the other guys lining up for the same funding dollars they were got turned away?

Artists count on bad reviews — bad reviews of the other guy’s project!

And this applies equally to simply the hours in a day — there aren’t enough of them to watch every movie or TV show, to read every book or listen to every CD or attend every concert. Choices have to be made. Every time someone sees a bad movie…that’s a good movie they didn’t go to see! Filmmakers are counting on bad reviews of their peers’ films in order to steer the audience to theirs!

Perhaps the most bizarre rebuttal to negative reviews I’ve come across — and it crops up more than once — is the old: “Well, I’d like to see you do any better.” or: “Well at least the artist is creating something, while you’re just a sad pathetic loser who can only tear things down.” Usually this comes from fans of a work, but even the artists themselves will use this argument (I read an interview with a Hollywood filmmaker who had made a movie — not even a “difficult” art film, but a mainstream populist comedy — and who dismissed any critics by saying if they didn’t like his film, they should make their own). And what’s funny about that attitude is I find it hard to believe even the people saying it really believe it — ’cause if they do, man, that’s whacked!

It’s a bizarre argument on two fronts.

One: it just ain’t that simple. I mean, maybe filmmakers (and artists) really have convinced themselves that their career was directed by divine providence, that they are chosen by God (yeah, pretty creepy when I phrase it that way, eh?). But the truth is, it’s never a level playing field. That’s why in show biz they often talk about “the breaks” — recognizing that talent and hard work isn’t enough. Happenstance and serendipity also can play a part. How many bands get started because a guitarist happened to move next door to a singer — and otherwise they’d never have met each other? It’s nice to believe your career is based solely on moxy and hard work — but there are always those little things, sometimes even indirect, that play their part. The now successful actor who brags he arrived in town with two bucks in his pocket and had to crash on a friend’s couch for two months sounds like a great paean to pulling yourself up by your bootstraps…until you stop and say, oh, um, so you had a friend who could put you up then, eh? What about the guy who literally knows no one in the big city — how far will his two bucks take him? Maybe you were lucky enough to go to the right film class…or happened to sit next to someone who becomes your later collaborator (and if you sat two rows over, you’d never have struck up a connection). And that’s not even getting into all the actors and filmmakers who already had family in the business (whether a director, or an agent, or even a seamstress) — and even though they maintain they didn’t ask for any favours, just having that extra ground floor insight into how the biz works can give you the edge.

Obviously — I’m not belittling the talent, or hard work, that brings anyone to the forefront of their career (or, at least, to the point where they have a film in the theatres). I’m just saying no man is an island, and I doubt even filmmakers, in their hearts, really believe it’s as simple as “anyone can make their own movie if they don’t like mine.”

Besides…you shouldn’t have to want to make a film to have a right to express an opinion on a film anyway. Well…unless filmmakers want to restrict their audience simply to fellow filmmakers and I’m guessing — they don’t. They want cab drivers and nurses and accountants to come to their films (and to – ka-ching! – buy tickets!) So if they want the public’s money…then the public has a right to opine on their films.

More to the point: if you go to a fancy restaurant and there’s a cockroach in the food, would you shrug good naturedly and say, “Well, I guess that was my fault, because I could’ve stayed home and cooked.” And if the next day your friends announce they are going to that same restaurant, do you smile and say: “Have fun”? If your house collapses around you, crushing your car, do you smile and say: “I guess I can’t blame the builder because, really, I have no right to criticize poor construction until I’ve tried building a house myself”?

No — I don’t think so.

And that’s why I’m doubtful even people making these arguments believe them — ’cause I’m guessing they’d be the first to complain about poor restaurant food, or shoddy construction work.

So, no, you don’t have to agree with a contrary opinion — but you do have to realize that that opinion is just as legitimate as yours, and can be equally astute.

What’s also funny about opinions is, of course, how we all generally assume our opinion is fuelled by thought, and a sophisticated understanding of the story’s nuances…and any who disagree is a moron. People rarely say: “Man, I loved this film and the only reason you didn’t was because it was beneath you.” Yet it’s kind of an awkward — even goofy — argument. It particularly comes up in regards to serious, “arty” films, where fans will sneer at detractors about how they’ve been brainwashed by Hollywood, or their tastes are so banal they can only understand Disney cartoons. Apparently failing to perceive there might be a middle ground — that someone might still like this kind of film…even as they just didn’t think the film itself was a particularly good example of its kind

And the “I’m sophisticated and you’re not” argument can kind of backfire, too. I’ve seen movies I haven’t much liked, then will read some reviews or message board posts explaining how it’s a brilliant, challenging film, and anyone who doesn’t like it (meaning me) is a moron who isn’t smart enough to appreciate it. Yet then as they go on to describe the movie, the plot, the themes, the motivation I’m kind of checking things off in my head (yup, got that, uh huh, saw that coming) and as near as I can tell…I did pretty much get everything the movie was offering, and I still found it kind of dull, or poorly made, or predictable. So, y’know — who’s the moron? The person who didn’t like a movie because they found it clumsy and obvious, or the person who loved it because they found it difficult and challenging?

I’ve even seen reviews where the person who loved the movie, and who brags about its sophistication, will them make comments that indicate they misunderstood some of the plot points!

It’s the nature of the beast. And I’m not above it. If I like a movie, I’ll often read subtleties and nuances into it — even if it’s just some B-grade space opera. And if someone doesn’t like it, I’ll probably smugly think they just didn’t “get” it.

But, y’know, maybe they did “get” it. And they just didn’t like it. And that’s okay, too.

A few postings back I waxed effusively about the Canadian crime-drama King. But then I was going to write a follow up piece because, frankly, I had seen a couple of episodes that seemed to mark a slight drop in quality. Now let me quickly say: I’m not suggesting King had jumped any sharks or anything. Not by a long chalk. But after my saying it was easily the best cop drama on TV, Canadian or American (or at least among them) the last couple of episodes I saw were simply, y’know, adequate examples of the genre.

But though I drafted my post, I held off until I saw the next episode, and the next, and the next…and it seemed those two I quibbled about were no more significant than the occasional dips to which any weekly series is prone.

Indeed, after those two lulls (in my opinion) the series has arguably roared back to life. Funnily, the very next episode — “Isabelle Toomey” — on the surface could so easily have misfired. Done to be deliberately quirky (and probably as a budget saving episode) it involves King (Amy Price-Francis) coming into work on Thanksgiving to help her chief re-examine an old cold case. Much of the episode taking place just in the police station, or cutting to King’s home where her husband and family are preparing dinner. So the mystery is largely housebound, just the characters in a few rooms, intercut with character/domestic drama stuff back at King’s apartment. Yet it held me from start to finish. And though I can quibble about the realism of whether the police station would actually be so closed up on a holiday that the lights would be kept low, there was an undoubted atmosphere to the characters wandering the dimly lit corridors. Tony Nardi (as the chief) was given a more prominent role than usual, both in terms of screen time and emotional range (reminding you this is an award winning actor) while the usual supporting characters were deliberately under used, but effectively so — almost to artistic effect. There’s a scene where the cast has assembled toward the end to watch an interrogation, and series regular Alan Van Sprang makes his first appearance in the episode, and without any lines in that scene…yet creates an understated impression by his very silence (maybe it was just how the lights and shadows played across the actors, so the whole scene creates a kind of haunting mise-en-scene).

After that came “Chris Harris” which involved a personal element for one of the regulars (Karen Robinson) as we learn her brother is serving timer for a sex-murder but may be innocent, not only giving her some good scenes, but without forgetting the ensemble. And “Alicia Pratta”, which again was just a well told, well played mystery, mixing the case with good character stuff (and counted among its guest stars Paul Braunstein, who used to co-star with King lead, Amy Price-Francis, in the soap Train 48 — don’tcha just love connections like that?). Both were effective, compelling pieces…though I do think that “dim lighting” look may be taking things a bit far (I mean, it creates oodles of atmosphere…but it can look like they’re operating during a power failure).

BUT…I do want to get back my originally intended post, the one I had started drafting a few weeks ago — to nitpick over a couple of (now, not so recent) King episodes that didn’t work as well for me. Only now with the added caveat (cue a sigh of relief) that this doesn’t seem like any kind of long term decline, but just a couple of episodes that happened to seem — to me — to be a little off.

Why bother? Well…’cause I like to break things down and see what makes them tick. If one thing works…why does something else not? Isn’t that the fundamental question of storytelling (and critical reviews)? And surely it’s more interesting to look at something you are predisposed to like, and ask “why did this not work as well?” than to look at something that wasn’t working in general.

Now I repeat: by “off” I’m saying they were still perfectly okay episodes. Just, not, y’know…King-quality good.

But before we get to that I wanted to note something else. King’s ratings in its second season on Showcase have been pretty dire…but that drop in audience numbers also accompanied a switch to Wednesdays from its previous Sunday night slot. While its old Sunday night slot has been given to the U.S. cop drama, Justified, starring Timothy Olyphant — which I believe is bringing in ratings comparable to what King had when it was in that slot! In other words, Justified has better ratings than King has now…but not necessarily because Justified is actually more popular than King. Logically, one might suggest King should be moved back to Sundays…but that would then mean Justified might get shifted to Wednesday. And I suspect that Showcase executives wouldn’t want to run the risk that I’m right — that it’s the time slot, not the show, that’s the problem. Because I’m guessing they bought up the entire run of Justified (which is in its third season in the U.S.) and if it was stuck bringing in terrible ratings on Wednesdays…well, the executive who made the purchase would look kind of foolish, committing to three seasons worth of a series that is tanking in the ratings. Yet surely, if favouritism is to be shown, if “good” time slots are to be handed out, Showcase should be reserving it for their Canadian shows…Canadian programs were, after all, supposedly a major part of their mandate when the station first came on-line years ago. If anyone is to be thrown under the bus…it shouldn’t be the Canadian show. (Apparently Showcase has compromised, and moved King to a new slot — on Fridays).

Anyway…back to musing on the recent episodes of King.

The first episode up was “Freddy Boise” in which a mining mogul has his heart stolen — literally, He’s waiting for a heart transplant and the donor organ disappears. It was a nice quirky premise — I’m sure plots have been done like that before, but I’m not sure it’s quite a staple of detective TV series (indeed, I have to go back to the early 1980s, and a Batman comic, to find a story of which it reminded me). And it made use of what is a strength of the series — that the crimes don’t have to be rigid “murders of the week” (in this case, no one is dead…though the businessman will die if they can’t find the heart, and as an added quirk, the heroes at first aren’t even sure if they are investigating a deliberate crime…or simply a hospital SNAFU). The guest cast included Nicholas Campbell, R.H. Thomson, Rachel Crawford, Liisa Repo-Martell, Inga Cadranel, and David Eisner…the sort of line up many a writer would happily kill their mother to have in their show (or, not kill, but maybe inflict a minor flesh wound). And it was written by John Krizanc…who as writer or co-writer was involved with such classy political thrillers as H2O and The Summit.

So why was the end result merely…okay?

Possibly Krizanc wasn’t that familiar with the series and the dynamics. Writing for a TV series is kind of an odd gig, as a working writer can’t necessarily be expected to be up on every aspect of a show’s mythos when there are dozens of series he might be trying to land a gig with. And the finished episode can often be the result of a variety of writers.

Many years ago, I read about how some U.S. series was trying to establish a prestigious image by hiring top level motion picture writers to write some episodes — but the process involved the writers being offered a choice of pre-selected plots to work on, then the final script would be re-written by the in house writers to make sure the dialogue gelled with the established characters. At which point you might ask, um, so why hire these big name writers in the first place? Or some years ago, Stephen King was hired to write an episode of the hit horror series, The X-Files, but King later complained that the finished episode had been heavily re-written by the staff writers — the final episode wasn’t very good (as I recall) but then, I’m skeptical King’s original was much better (King’s film and TV work being, often, quite dire…largely because King’s strength as a writer is not his plotting or his dialogue, but his prose style, which doesn’t translate to the screen). But still, why hire Stephen King to write you an episode if not for the fun — and novelty — of saying: this is Stephen King’s unadulterated take on The X-Files (for better or worse)?

All this is to say when a writer writes for episodic television, they are both struggling to play catch up with the character dynamics and mythology…and they might be subjected to a few uncredited re-writes by other hands.

Of course, whether writers have signature styles is a question. After all, although I say I recognized Krizanc’s name…I’m not sure I would recognize Krizanc’s thumb print on a script. Maybe the slight political edge the episode developed toward the end can remind you of his more political thrillers. But I’m not sure if there’s a quirky supporting character, a monologue, or even a phrasing that I could recognize as being “pure Krizanc” (the way one can often recognize, say, a Rod Serling script even without seeing the credits) — not that I’ve made a study of his work. But I think that’s true of a lot of TV writing, where individual voices are, perhaps, discouraged.

In comic books, which is comparable to TV in that it’s a series format where writers work with characters of which they are only temporary custodians, there can be more of a sense of an individual writer’s style. Even one off “guest” writers can bring a particular tone to an individual issue of Batman or The Hulk. But in TV, I’m not sure one is as likely to notice a particular style, or thematic preoccupation, reflecting the writer behind it. In some cases, perhaps — particularly with writers who recur on a series. Again looking back at the X-Files, in the early days, when the series was most trying to establish its dark, serious tone, one could readily identify the episodes written by Darin Morgan…because they tended to be the quirky, funny episodes. And other series (Star Trek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) often had specific writers whose name in the credits were seen by fans as promising a better-than-average episode. In the revived series of Dr. Who, Steven Moffat often would only contribute one or two episodes per season, and almost inevitably they would be acclaimed by fans as among the best of the season — so that one might decide whether to watch an episode…based on the writing credit.

(And the fact that the series I’m citing are fantasy and SF is perhaps telling — those genres accomodating a diversity of styles and tones in a way a detective series or a medical drama dosen’t).

But in general, it’s perhaps hard to detect a writer’s signature…because the name of the game is homogeny, and the producers don’t want a writer whose style (and therefore, whose episode) distinguishes itself too much from the others.

Anyway…that was just a little digression musing on the nature of writing for episodic TV — now back to our regularly scheduled screed…

In that King episode, there were a few too many things that seemed like, well, like hokey detective series cliches…and seemed out of place in King. Like having Spears and Martin shooting hoops in the office (what — Major Crimes detectives literally have nothing else to do?). Or having Spears and the lady doctor flirt (in TV, yeah, but in real life…cops aren’t supposed to be looking to hit on persons of interest)…not to mention that seemed awkward given a running sub-plot is Spears’ infatuation with King (which is why I wonder if it was simply Krizanc’s lack of familiarity with the character dynamics). There were also some hokey dialogue scenes (the line where King says: “Like father like daughter”…I mean, come on — Amy Price-Francis couldn’t convey that just with her eyes?). And a sub-plot with King’s father — played by venerable R.H. Thomson — also just felt a bit too, well, TV-esque. Somehow, the introduction of King’s sister (well played by Sadie LeBlanc) earlier in the series created an interesting character dynamic. But the dad just seemed like the usual “ailing, slightly estranged dad” TV plot.

And you know what? None of these things — not one of them — are bad. But in my earlier post about King I suggested it was good precisely because of the little things. Quirky, subtle dialogue. Or the fact that the actors seemed so much in the moment I was seeing only characters, not the actors playing them.

Yet here — I was seeing the process…not the scenes.

The mystery itself was problematic. Fun in a quirky, off-beat way. But the very intriguing simplicity of the puzzle — how could the heart disappear when it seemed to follow a fairly straight line from point A to point B — became a problem because the heroes felt a bit like they were just spinning their wheels, without even rewarding us with any particularly clever solution. In modern detective series, often the idea is to offer twist on twist, so that each act brings some new direction in the story. Here — we follow a more banal formula of setting up a mystery…then just methodically interviewing and discounting suspects, where the end motive (to kill the business man) was pretty much what you assumed was the motive from the beginning! The script does try to give us a certain moral ambiguity toward the end — so that was good — without quite giving us that emotional aspect other King episodes have boasted (or arguably like that old Batman comic which used a similiar concept did).

I mentioned in my earlier King post that often the guest stars stood out, sometimes with just one or two scenes. Here — the characters often felt like plot points rather than human beings who had lives outside of their scenes.

Now, of course, as a fun mystery-of-the-week, we can forgive certain elements of artistic licence…but that depends on the individual viewer’s tolerance. But there were just a few things that seemed dubious…or out right made up. It seemed unconvincing that it was a few scenes into it before they even thought to interview the guy who had packed the heart (essentially — the last guy who saw it). Sure, it was a red herring (he didn’t do it) but it seemed kind of sloppy police work when you figured he should be at the top of your interview list!

And a big part of the story ended up revolving around the idea of ice cube freezers of the kind you find at motels in the movies (I mean, if you’ve seen as many mystery and horror thrillers as I have, the moment King — or whoever it was — scoops up some ice for her cup you can’t help but think, hmmm, I wonder what else is under all those ice cubes!)…except, um, I’ve never in my life seen such a thing in a hospital (I mean, the hygiene questions alone involving a big communal ice cube freezer in the middle of hospital corridor boggle the mind). Admittedly, I could be wrong. Maybe in Toronto hospitals you do have such things. I’ve just never seen or heard of it. Now, is that really a problem? It’s a fun mystery story…not The Fifth Estate.

But it just relates to what I can find myself criticizing about other TV cop shows. That they aren’t bad, but can have a bunch of nagging, niggling little things that, on their own, are barely worth mentioning, but compound to impact upon my ability to lose myself in the story.

And then came the next episode, “Jared and Stacey Cooper”, about the murder of a Mixed Martial Arts fighter and his wife — this one written by series co-creator Greg Spottiswood…so there’s no excuse that he just wasn’t comfortable with the characters. It wasn’t by any means a bad episode, or one he need be ashamed of (anymore than Krizanc need fret about his episode). It was perfectly okay…it just wasn’t, y’know, special. Again, there was just a bit too much cartoony/TV stuff for a series that is at times a quasi-procedural (Spears getting into a cage fight with a suspect, or King suddenly taking an interest in a cranky older woman in an unrelated sub-plot). And the idea that the detectives would look at the crime scene…and immediately conjure an entire narrative to explain it just seemed like, well, really, really bad police work — don’t all the great (fictional) detectives insist that you wait for the facts to shape your theories…not the other way around?

Perhaps having the King pregnancy story arc come to an end a few episodes back (in a miscarriage), given it was a thread basically from the first episode, means they’re floundering around to try and find a new direction for the character/sub-plots. At least they were back to hinting (slightly) at a certain sexual tension between King and Spears (as opposed to the previous episode) — not that I’m saying the series should necessarily follow through, but surely part of the intriguing dynamic is the messy relationship triangle between King, Spears, and King’s husband, Danny. The main mystery-plot didn’t really offer that many twists and turns…actually, no, that’s not true. They first think it’s a murder suicide (though it’s awkward that they realize it’s not, not by deductive reasoning, but simply by the coroner’s report), think it might be gang related, then discover a more personal motive. Yeah — so now that I think about it, it should’ve been fairly intriguing. But it felt a bit plodding. Maybe part of that was the sub-plot with the cranky woman (no fault of guest star, venerable Jayne Eastwood) — the problem with doing an hour long drama where you’re following unrelated plots, is it can feel a bit like you’re admitting that neither one was strong enough to carry the show! (Ideally, Eastwood’s plot should’ve been connected to the main plot).

Still, the episode had its moments — I kind of liked the final scene of King at the ballet class, hokey though it was (and the pan away to the police cars wailing through the night). And the guest cast was certainly fine — though perhaps only David Ferry (as the murdered man’s ex-boxer dad) quite scored the emotional gravitas I mentioned some of the other episodes have managed (which might be why the main plot felt a bit plodding…it lacked an emotional core). A sub-plot about Spears indulging in illegal steroids at first glance seemed tacked on…until you think back a couple of episodes to when he twisted his knee during a chase, or the occasional flashes of acrimony he directs at the younger Martin…and you realize maybe they’ve been hinting Spears is starting to feel insecure about his age for a while. Heck — even the detectives extrapolating a scenario from the crime scene, though unrealistic, was presumably intended to convey how King’s razor mind is always calculating. So it might have struck an awkward chord for me…but I understand what they were going for.

So…what’s my point?

Why am I writing a blog dissecting and criticizing two episodes of a TV series when even I’m admitting neither episode was — by any arcane definition of the term — “bad”? Well, partly because I had just finished praising King to the heavens, and I suspect if someone read my previous post, and then saw those episodes, they’d shrug and simply say, “Um, dude, I’m not seeing what you’re seeing in this show.” (Obviously — they might say that anyway, no matter the episode). But also to make the point that, just as I can seem excessively nitpicky when I criticize, say, The Listener, or Republic of Doyle, or Haven, that I’m actually not trying to play favourites. That when I say I think King is good, it’s because I think it’s good…and when it stumbles, I’ll say that too.

Besides, surely it’s better to pick on a series you like and respect, than to continually rag on a series you don’t like even in the best of times!

But also I’m just intrigued by what goes into a story, and in our reactions to the same. Was there really a difference between those episodes and the better episodes of the series…or for some reason was I just harping on things I’d otherwise shrug off as immaterial? Was I just tired or in a grumpy mood? What made me fixate on minor flaws and feel they affected the whole? After all, any episode of King can have its flaws — in the episode “Alicia Pratta” (which I referenced near the beginning of this post) I did think some of the mother-daughter scenes were a bit heavy handedly written — yet that didn’t affect my reaction to the episode in general.

If I were to catch “Freddy Boise” and “Jared and Stacey Cooper” again in reruns would even I wonder what I was bitchin’ about here?

Dunno.

No one can really teach someone how to make a “great” movie — greatness arising out of the unexpected, the serendipitous, and those hard to quantify flashes of genius. But one can suggest ways to make films “better”. Rules — or at least guidelines — for making “good” films. And maybe that’s the key. Struggling filmmakers should first worry about making good films…and, with luck, the greatness will follow on its own.

With that said, everyone has their own particular idea of good, bad, and indifferent. And the purpose of movies vary. A filmmaker who is making a, to him, profound treatise on mortality is going for something different than a filmmaker who has made a wacky comedy; an “Art” filmmaker, who has made a film playing around with the very form of cinema, isn’t necessarily hoping to elicit the same response as a filmmaker who has made an action-thriller. Which kind of relates to what is the very intent fuelling a lot of Canadian movies. Because budgets are small and access to theatres and distribution uncertain, a lot of Canadian filmmakers will claim they never intended to make a populist film. After all, why make a mainstream comedy or thriller when you know it probably won’t get the distribution or marketing it needs, and is liable to get swallowed up in the market place? If you make a little indie film, at least you stand a chance of generating buzz on the festival circuit. While those who claim they are trying to make a populist film will then sneer at anything creative or challenging (including Canadian identity) as being something that stands in their way of the big box office. (Though what unites both groups is the belief that they, as individuals, and their personal success is more important than any higher purpose…like helping to build a successful Canadian film industry).

But although there is something to be said for the “let’s conquer the film festival circuit, not the box office” mentality — that’s only if it’s a first step. The goal must be to eventually create a populist industry that brings in money, otherwise, what’s the point? You’re dooming the entire industry to an endless cycle of discussions about art vs commerce, and derision from the very countrymen you purport to represent who feel the film biz is just one expensive make work project for a bunch of self-indulgent elites who brag about their cultural worth every time they win an award or get a write up in a trendy New York paper…and then, if the notices are bad, and the awards not forthcoming, smugly turn around and say reviews and the opinions of others are irrelevant because they are artists!

But whether you are making a “small” film for the festival circuit, or hoping to make inroads into the mainstream, there are still general ideas that can be applied to films across the spectrum.

So in that vein, and having sat through a lot of movies over the years, as I have — a lot of good films but, perhaps more important, a lot of mediocre, and even bad, films — here’s a little list of things to note, rules — or guidelines — for cinematic storytelling. And chances are, most people reading this will say: “Dude, these are all pretty obvious comments.” And they are — yet somehow, they often seem to get lost in the rush, and the pressure, to make a movie. So if you’re a filmmaker, feel free to print this up and tack it on your fridge, as something to look at every morning before you start work. Or if you’re a film fan, feel free to send this on to the filmmaker of your choice.

So let’s begin.

1) YOU AREN’T MAKING FILMS JUST FOR YOU

Movies are a mass culture product. Period. So you aren’t making them just for you and your friends. If you want to do that, become a painter, or a poet, or start a blog…something that doesn’t require a huge investment of other people’s capital. Movies cost money, and they have to try and recoup that money. Look at it pragmatically: every time you make a film that bombs, and you shrug and say “I’m an artist — commercial concerns are anathema to my artistic process,” you make it that much harder for the next Canadian filmmaker to get funding. And that next filmmaker might well be you.

2) PLOT (LOOK IT UP IF YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THE WORD)

Movies should, first and foremost, be storytelling — so there should be a plot. Something that has a beginning, middle, and end. Unfortunately, plot is one of the hardest things to craft. That’s why so many Canadian movies eschew a clear plot for vague themes (coming of age), episodic narratives (road trips), anthology/ensemble formats (where the movie’s really stitched together, like Hollywood’s version of the Frankenstein Monster, out of a bunch of shorter stories none of which have to sustain 90 to 120 mins.) Now there’s nothing inherently wrong with any of those — some great movies have used those formulas. The Canadian movie Lunch With Charles was a “road trip” film but, as I recall, it was still wrapped around a plot, with twists and turns. But too often these formulas can smack of a filmmaking crutch.

As well, if you’re trying to sell your movie in the market place (or even hoping someone will look at it twice on the DVD shelf) it helps to actually have something that can catch people’s attention, a plot description that makes people say: “Hmmm, this sounds interesting…the description makes me intrigued to see how it all turns out.” With that being said: you want a plot that can be described in a few sentences…but a few sentences shouldn’t be able to describe the entire plot. The description should make the viewer want to see your film…not to feel like they just did!

Which then leads us to…

3) ABMF

In salesmen circles they say ABC — Always Be Closing (at least, y’know, they did in Glengarry Glen Ross) so in filmmaking circles we can say ABMF. And, no, the M doesn’t stand for “Muther”. Rather, it stands for Always Be Moving Forward. A movie is comprised of scenes, and the scenes should build upon each other to tell your story. Obviously, there will always be extraneous scenes, filler scenes, or scenes that exist just to add to the milieu, or exist for a gag, or just because they are good scenes. But in general, scenes should push us forward, whether it’s pushing the plot forward, or expanding upon our understanding of the characters (and, ideally, both). I can’t tell you how many movies I’ve sat through where you have scene after scene that isn’t contributing to either the plot or the characters, that essentially just reiterate earlier scenes — indeed, movies where you could literally re-arrange the order of the scenes and it wouldn’t actually affect the flow of the movie. Perhaps a good rule of thumb is if you randomly pick a scene, and you can’t immediately pin point what Act it appears in…your movie isn’t progressing.

When going over your script (or even the final edit, though really you should catch this before you start shooting) you should ask: does this scene contribute to either the story or the characters. And if I removed it, would anyone but me even notice? Now, as I say: that doesn’t mean you can’t have extraneous scenes that exist just because they are good scenes, but they should be the exception, not the lion’s share of your scenes. I’m reminded of an anecdote told of the classic Hollywood comedy, Young Frankenstein, where director Mel Brooks wanted to cut out the music hall scene. Co-writer and star Gene Wilder objected and argued for keeping that scene for literally an hour, at which point Brooks said, “Okay”. Wilder, surprised, said: “Okay? Just like that? I’ve been arguing for an hour!” And Brooks responded: “I just wanted to see how badly you wanted that scene kept.” So if you can argue for an hour about keeping a scene, maybe it’s worth keeping. But otherwise…

Which leads us to…

4) NO MATTER HOW SHORT YOUR FILM IS, IT CAN PROBABLY BE SHORTER

One of the biggest problems I find in my long years of watching Canadian films is they tend to be too slow and too long. And I’m talking about movies that both start out slow and tedious…but equally movies that I’m enjoying, that I think are really good…but as the minutes tick by, and the half way point looms, I’m squirming in my seat and looking at my watch. And strangely, often it seems this is relative to the running time. In that, I don’t just mean I see 2 hour movies that could be edited down to 100 mins, I mean I’ll see even relatively short films — 87 mins, say — that feel like they need cutting down to 70 minutes. This relates to my above points about whether scenes are contributing to the overall movie. A movie can get tedious if you feel that too many scenes are just filler…literally existing just to boost the running time to feature length. But as I say, even movies that do have enough to justify a solid 90 minute feature, can still feel slow because the final cut is 120 minutes.

Sometimes it’s that scenes should be cut out — sometimes the scenes should be left in, but need to be tightened, leaving out the pregnant pauses and the extraneous business which is irrelevant to the significance of the scene (showing a character walking down the street to a meeting…when it’s the meeting itself that’s important). Again, nothing is absolute. After all, in a comedy, if you cut out all the extraneous bits that weren’t relevant to the plot…you might cut out half the gags! 2001: A Space Odyssey is a long movie with lot of slow and even pointless scenes…yet those scenes are what create its atmosphere. Edit 2001 down into a tight 90 minutes…and it wouldn’t be 2001!

5) YOU MAY BE AN A**HOLE BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOUR CHARACTERS SHOULD BE

This is a contentious one but, the sad truth is, I see an awful lot of Canadian movies where a key problem is I don’t particularly like the characters. And if you don’t like them, you don’t care what happens to them, and if you don’t care what happens to them…why do you care how the story turns out? Now in some cases, this is deliberate. Filmmakers intentionally want to make a movie about a “difficult” character, an anti-hero (often seeing a sympathetic character as “too Hollywood”) — I’ve seen interviews where filmmakers themselves will describe watching their characters like studying “insects in a glass cage” (ooh, don’tcha feel all warm and tingly?). Years ago, the idea of the Canadian anti-hero was so prevalent, it even had a label in film essays — “the bully, the clown, the fool” (or something). Now, to be fair, this has its place — but it’s problematic to expect an audience to spend two hours with characters they aren’t really supposed to be empathizing with. BUT…what’s worse is I sometimes get the impression filmmakers actually do think their characters are sympathetic. That the characters really are modelled after themselves and their friends — hence, my title “Just because you’re an a**hole…”

Heroes in stories are, let’s be honest, generally better than real people — nicer, more thoughtful. They are who we would like to think we are, more than who we are. I don’t believe Hollywood writers are any nicer than Canadian writers…but they know how to fake it better in their scripts. To be fair, sometimes part of it can get down to casting: some actors just project a likeability and some don’t (even if they are, in all other ways, equally talented as performers). But I just can’t stress enough how many Canadian movies I’ve seen where a major flaw is that I really don’t enjoy spending time with the characters, or empathize with their behaviour. And this applies equally to serious, thoughtful, Art House dramas…and pulpy, straight-to-DVD action movies and horror-thrillers. Which maybe is a good point about characters: it’s not just enough to show a character behaving a certain way, you have to show us why they are behaving that way. In one of my reviews I used the phrase: “Anyone can tell you something happened…a story teller tells you why.” And I stand by that.

So how do you make a character sympathetic? Well…make them nicer, make the characters themselves more compassionate and empathetic toward others. Cut back on the rage, the tantrum scenes. Cut back on vulgar and abusive language (profanity has its place, but not in every line). Cut back on the infidelity (you may cheat on your partner, but that doesn’t mean your character should). Remember that though you and your friends might get a kick out of mistreating animals, most of your audience doesn’t. And this applies to supporting characters as well as lead characters. Heck, I’ve seen action movies that are ruined because even though the hero might be, nominally, sympathetic…for some reason the villain gets most of the dialogue and screen time, and he’s a one note, sleazy, sadist, all his scenes involving him doing cruel and sadistic things to people, and apparently the filmmakers dig that (watch Die Hard and there’s no doubt that Bruce Willis is the main character, not Alan Rickman).

Which leads us to…

6) COMPASSION

Your characters should show compassion — and you need to hone your own compassion. You need to like, well, people. Like your characters — they aren’t just props, or chess pieces to be moved about a board (there was an anecdote told about John Cassavettes, how shooting stalled for a few hours on a film he was directing because it was coming up to the scene to kill a minor character…and he didn’t want to kill the character!). Like your audience — they aren’t your enemy! They’re the people you are making your movie for! And you know what? Learn to like yourself, too. Maybe a side point to that is how often do critics refer to Canadian films as “charming?”

7) A GREAT BOOK DOES NOT A SUCCESSFUL MOVIE MAKE…NECESSARILY

On one hand, the idea of adapting a “literary classic” has merit — at least you’re working from a premise that’s already been driven for a test drive. But often in Canada even these sorts of movies bomb. And that’s because just ’cause something wows a literary crowd doesn’t mean it’ll entice a movie crowd. Admittedly, the fidelity to the source material can vary from movie to movie (some great books become poor movies…because it was a poor adaptation). But also what makes a good book doesn’t always make a good movie — often literary books are rambling, free flowing sagas that sprawl over years, the reader reading it in chapters over many nights…whereas a movie (imbibed in a single sitting) often benefits from being a focused plot. Don’t look at a book and say: “this was a successful book, so I guess it’ll make a successful movie” rather ask: “does this seem like the makings of a good movie?”

Mordecai Richler Barney’s Version was a high profile movie based on a famous novel, but my impression is it still underwhelmed at the box office (despite giving all the best roles to American and British imported “stars”). I’ve never read the novel, but I saw the movie, and even heard an earlier radio adaptation…and I’m still hard pressed to even say what it was about. Some people loved it…but a lot of other people, well, they didn’t so much hate it, as they were just bewildered by it. It’s a comedy-drama-romance, yet with next to no scenes (or even lines) I recall as that funny, and lacking a true romantic core, and with a plot that just seemed to ramble about with no real focus. The movie is basically about a chain smoking, heavy drinking guy who is unfaithful to the women in his life…and fans of the story seem to cite their love of the main character as its main appeal. And, to be honest, though a number of Mordecai Richler stories have been turned into movies, all have underperformed, and all — even ones I kind of liked — I’m kind of hard pressed to really say what they were about. Or consider Margaret Laurence’s The Stone Angel — a famous novel by a famous Canadian writer. In this case, I haven’t read the novel, or seen the movie. I might very well love the movie if/when I see it. And looking at some message board postings, fans of the novel seemed to feel the movie was a faithful translation of the story. But just going by the basic premise, the story seems to be defined as “the decades spanning tale of a woman unhappy with her life who makes everyone else unhappy around her”. Now maybe that’s not it at all, but I’m just going by what I infer from things others have written (and in movie making, perception is important…’cause that’s what gets people into the theatres). And I mean, really — does that synopsis sound like box office gold?

8 – YOU’RE NOT IMPORTANT AND YOU HAVE NOTHING TO SAY

That should be a mantra filmmakers have to recite to themselves in the mirror every morning. I know it sounds harsh, but it’s important to chip away at the egos too many filmmakers have armoured around themselves, their heads so inflated they are in danger of breaking their own necks. I think part of what got me thinking about this was all the times I’ve seen interviews with filmmakers where they describe their films by saying: “I wanted to explore this ___ (fill in the blank) theme.” They wanted to do something about relationships, or other aspects of the Human Condition. And that’s great, that’s wonderful, I’m all for that…but the problem is, what if the filmmaker doesn’t know anything about the Human Condition? What if a person who spends all day on a film set, or months at a time locked in a dark editing room with a guy named “Gus” doesn’t have the profound insight into real people he thinks he does? Yes, of course your film should have underlying themes, and deeper meaning…but don’t necessarily presume that you have something to tell me that I haven’t already figured out on my own. You’re making a movie…not delivering a Massey Hall lecture. What if — God Forbid — your audience actually thinks they might be smarter than you? What’s your fall back position? Better to say: “I made this movie because I thought it’d be really entertaining. It’s funny. Or exciting. Or scary. But as I was working on it, I realized it was bringing up some interesting themes about human relationships”. Remember, at the end of the day, your characters can only represent themselves, not society as a whole.

With that said…

9) YOU ARE IMPORTANT AND YOU DO HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY

You don’t have to go through the motions of churning out formulaic pablum. Of course your film should touch you on a deeper level, and you should put something of yourself and your beliefs in your movie. A big problem with movies can be — and this relates as much to “serious” movies or Arty movies, as much as made-for-TV programmers — is how generic they can seem, lacking a real sense the filmmaker is bringing anything personal to the story by giving the character a quirky hobby, or a profession that actually seems relevant to the narrative, or anything.

10) MAKE MOVIES YOU’D LIKE TO WATCH, NOT JUST MOVIES YOU’D LIKE TO MAKE

The American filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson once was quoted (I think it was him…I don’t actually have the article in front of me) as saying that although he liked making difficult, challenging movies that sometimes left audiences scratching their heads…he wouldn’t actually want to watch his own films. And I sometimes wonder if that’s a problem with a lot of Canadian movies. Filmmakers who are so consumed with the process of filmmaking, convinced of their genius and the profound themes they are trying to explore (see my above points), so focused on crafting something that will get them a slot at a film festival…they often make movies even they wouldn’t really want to spend an evening of their lives watching. And even when they praise a fellow Canadian filmmaker’s work, they do so because they are admiring the craftsmanship of his work, as a fellow auteur, rather than because they truly liked the film. Now with that said, as some of my earlier points have mentioned, you also have to step outside yourself, and remember you aren’t just making movies for your own enjoyment, but for an audience — hence my point about not being an a**hole which brings us neatly back to my first point: (1) you aren’t making films just for you.

And let me add a few final points — less “rules” and more observations.

i) Even dramas benefit from humour. Heck, some of the best, the funniest scenes and lines are in otherwise serious movies. A little wit and whimsy can enliven an otherwise self-consciously self-important melodrama.

ii) “Artiste” type filmmakers will often brag about how important their films are, how they are deeper and more profound than crass Hollywood films…yet it’s curious how often “serious” Canadian movies are a-political. For all their claimed profundity, they rarely deal with (or even allude to) real world issues, social or political matters. They are surprisingly…safe. But I guess that’s how you win at film festivals. Heck, ever noticed how curiously monochromatic the casting is in serious, art movies?

Anyway…

So — there you are. Ten golden rules. Ten at times contradictory rules. But that’s because, as I’ve said before, there are no absolutes, and it’s somewhere in the middle that success lies. These rules are almost less about telling filmmakers how to make a movie…and more about getting them to think damn hard about the choices they do end up making.

Why do Canadian movies have so much trouble finding success? Particularly at the box office, but even critically? Canada, after all, is a G7 nation — one of the richest in the world. So although the budgets for Canadian movies are minuscule compared to Hollywood films, there should still be cash lying around comparable to other nations. And there are professional casts and crews a-plenty — we know that because, heck, lots of Hollywood productions are shot here, relying, to varying degrees, upon the local talent.

Of course, the very association — physically and politically — with the United States may be a problem, Canada stuck in the position of being, well, the faux America, not seen as being America by Americans, yet not seen as being un-American by the rest of the world. I mean, one gets the impression that British productions can travel quite well globally, even outside the English-speaking world — British productions that barely make a ripple in North America might still do quite well in, say, France. And part of that is probably because, language barrier aside, the English are seen as European by other Europeans.

And this problem extends to French-Canadian films as well. There is often the cliche that English-Canadian films bomb, but Quebec films don’t. But I think the truth is that Quebec films may do well in Quebec…but still fail to travel well. (And even then, I think it’s more that even within Quebec a few films do well in any given year…but the majority of Quebec films still struggle even in Quebec.)

But is that the whole story? Or does the fault lie with the films themselves?

After all, perhaps what’s stranger — is that Canadian TV proves that this doesn’t have to be the case. It’s ironic that often naysayers will denounce Canadian TV as a failure, “hit” Canadian series failing to match the top audience numbers of hit imported American series. But these Canadian series still boast domestic audience numbers of a million or more. And these series are likewise sold worldwide and, in recent years, even winning spots on the Olympic Team of TV…the American networks!

So why the gap between TV and motion picture?

Well, obviously, there’s a difference in the audience’s expectation — and the audiences the filmmakers expect. There’s a gap between movie and TV audiences everywhere. Even in the United States more people probably watch an episode of Whitney in a single night than will see the Hunger Games in a month. But I think the intents are also rather different. TV is meant to entertain, and shows are concocted to do just that — whereas Canadian motion picture filmmakers often see themselves as “artistes”, and that it is the audience’s job to appreciate them, not their job to pander to their audience. Or, in a complete contradiction, movies that are meant to be populist often aim for the lowest, crudest common denominator (you know the films I’m talking about) whereas populist TV series like Rookie Blue, Arctic Air, even The Lost Girl or Call Me Fitz, still affect a certain, well, depth, they are still meant to be about well drawn characters, often dealing with issues or ethical dilemmas (yes — even Call Me Fitz!)

TV is where high brow meets low brow.

Which sort of then brings us to talking about…Carl Bessai!

Carl Bessai is a Canadian filmmaker who, one assumes, must be a veritable force of nature, smashing through all the hurdles and obstacles that leave other Canadian filmmakers bloody and bruised by the side of the road. He made his first feature film in 1999 and, as of 2012, has eleven features to his credit (in addition to a few shorts, docs, and episodic TV). In a country where filmmakers struggle — struggle like Atlas struggled to carry that ball of rock we call home on his shoulders — to get their films made, Bessai’s out put is nothing short of astonishing. Even “celebrity” filmmakers in Canada (David Cronenberg, Atom Egoyan) don’t boast that kind of out put. There are a few — like Jerry Ciccoritti, though many of his productions are for TV (which might be slightly easier to arrange financing for because at least with a network involved, you know the checks aren’t going to bounce).

Yeah, whatever juice Carl Bessai is drinking, it needs to be mass produced for the rest of the filmmaking community.

Yet here’s the thing: Carl Bessai is a terrible filmmaker.

….

Okay, now that I’ve brought you up short, let me back pedal and say, of course he’s not terrible. Terrible implies incompetence, poorly synced sound and jerky edits. Terrible implies Ed Wood or, if you want to be snarky, Uwe Boll. Carl Bessai isn’t terrible.

But I have seen five of his eleven films…and not one of them do I regard as good, and most not even middling. I saw his two earliest films (Johnny and Lola — both aimed at a more arty, indie film crowd), his first slightly more “mainstream” film (Emile) as well as Normal, and then at the far end of the spectrum, his unapologetic pulp-horror flick, Severed. In fact, I recently picked up the DVD of Normal at the library, taking it home as part of my hobby of watching n’ reviewing Canadian films, and liking some of the actors in it (Carrie-Anne Moss, Camille Sullivan, Tygh Runyan, Michael Riley)…and then, just as I was about to crack open the DVD box, I glanced at the credits and saw Bessai’s name and, well, a certain ennui settled over me. It actually took me a few days after that to work up the gumption to watch it…and when I did, well, for me it didn’t really work. Again. Normal being of the “drama in the aftermath of a tragedy” genre — think 21 Grams or, well, a zillion others — without really putting its own thumbprint on the scenario

Now, obviously, this is just my opinion — I probably shouldn’t need to say that, but I will. Certainly Bessai’s films have received some good reviews — yet equally, they’ve received negative reviews. Or, perhaps worse, dismissive reviews, polite reviews. Heck, looking at the three reviews for Normal posted at the IMDB, funnily, all three basically had similiar reactions to me — they were kinder about it than I, but the flaws they noted, I noted. And looking over some of my reviews for his others films (given some I saw a few years ago and only have a vague memory of the details) I notice certain recurring criticisms cropping up in my comments: thin plots that seem to be struggling to justify the running time, weak endings, and character dramas in which the characters are poorly developed.

Granted, that might not indicate anything. I supposed 60 percent of bad reviews of any film would probably say the same thing.

Now obviously, I don’t know anything about box office returns or DVD sales. It could be Bessai is prolific because he really does have his finger on the pulse of the market place and his movies do what they need to do in terms of box office gross. Although, on one of the DVD extras for Normal it’s mentioned it took them 4 years to get the financing lined up, indicating that Bessai’s name on a project isn’t necessarily seen as automatic box office gold by potential investors. But as I say, with 11 movies in just over a decade, one assumes Bessai is a filmmaking dynamo — not just in terms of the actual filmmaking, but in terms of the pre-production, the hustling and the networking (perhaps he doesn’t need sleep!). He could probably give seminars on Canadian movie making that should be mandatory for up-coming filmmakers. And despite my negative attitude, he clearly has people in his corner, not just the investors, but casts and crews, his films often boasting an impressive thespianic display of the local Vancouver talent pool, ex-pats like Moss, and even, on occasion, international movie stars like England’s Sir Ian McKellen.

That’s why I’m going at him — because, let’s face it: he can take it. My blog post is the equivalent to a mosquito trying to stand up to an on coming ferrari. The ferrari won’t be slowed down one whit. As such I can say what I want to say — what I feel I need to say — without having to feel unduly guilty about it (and, yeah, I do actually feel guilty about saying nasty things, believe it or not). And besides, it’s Bessai’s very success that makes him a useful talking point.

Because when trying to consider Canadian film, it’s worth looking at the filmmakers — the guys (and gals) who time and time again show up at the festivals with their latest offing, when in so many cases none of their previous films did any better. It’s not even so much to say they shouldn’t be given a second (or third) chance…but in many cases, there’s little sense they are growing as artists. That even if this film or that was flawed, you can see the sparkle of potential in it, and you can believe they are learning from their mistakes.

Actor-turned-director Jacob Tierney is a guy who’s made a few films of varying success, including Good Neighbours and Twist. His best film was The Trotsky, and even though I enjoyed…I felt it should’ve been better than it was. Yet I still kind of look forward to his next films, because for all that there are problems, there are equally good things about his films that means I’m still cautiously optimistic he’ll not just make a good film (which The Trotsky was) but a great film. His films often have solid “hook” concepts, and often boast good scenes. If I had one piece of advice to give him, I’d probably say: hire a tough minded editor, man. Your films could use some tightening.

Unfortunately, one gets the impression a lot of filmmakers don’t listen to critics — whether it be Bessai, or Tierney, or anyone else. Surrounded by sycophants and yes men, they are reassured of their genius, and even if their films manifest the same flaws (spelled out for them in reviews) time and again, and their movies fair poorly, they are convinced the problem lies with the audience, or the reviewers. Yet failing to realize that, even if that’s true, those are still the people you need to win over.

What’s curious is also whether there has been shift in the critical regard toward Canadian film. Perhaps not — perhaps I’m just out of the loop, and the mainstream press has their poster childs for Canadiana still. But I remember years ago (years and years ago) when the press almost seemed to talk about a Rat Pack of Canadian film: Atom Egoyan, Patricia Rozema, Denys Arcand, Bruce McDonald and a few others. It was trendy to laud them (box office numbers be damned) as though they mattered and were blazing a trail for Canadian film. Celebrated as much for what they promised as for what they delivered. Years later, Egoyan still makes news, though mainly with Americanized erotic thrillers that tend to tank; Arcand has all but faded back into the anonymity (from an Anglophone perspective) of Quebec cinema. Rozema’s projects are few and far between and though McDonald keeps chugging away…I suspect even a lot of critics who heralded his Roadkill and Highway 61 would have trouble naming his recent efforts.

And I’m not sure there are any new Golden Boys. Now maybe it’s just that I’m not paying as much attention as I did when I was younger, when I spent more time reading about Canadian movies than I did watching them. But are people like Carl Bessai names to conjure with among the mainstream press? Or are they effectively flying below the mainstream radar? Have we so given up on the expectation of a “successful” film industry that we aren’t even interested in pretending we think there are torch bearers today?

Are there filmmakers who excite? If only with their potential? Or is the best we can muster a polite nod and a “say, that movie wasn’t too bad.”

Now, here’s the thing: when I criticize these filmmakers it’s not like I’m pointing to the opposite — the Canadian film paragon to whom others should aspire. Indeed, often filmmakers who have enjoyed their time as the critical “Golden Boy” I’ve not been much impressed with either, such as Atom Egoyan. And even with American films I tend to focus more on the movie, whether the premise interests me, than I do on the director making it — for all that directors are seen as the kings of Hollywood. (Indeed, I’m more likely to be wooed by a scriptwriter who previously wrote something I enjoyed than I am the director).

There are some — if only because they seem to understand (and aspire to) the mainstream more than their compeers. Tierney, as I said. Michael McGowan (Saint Ralph, One Week). William Phillips (Gunless). Maybe Sudz Sutherland (Love Sex & Eating the Bones, Guns)

But maybe the problem in Canada is we remain too much fixated on the filmmaker, as opposed to the film. The “auteur” as it were. (Years ago I came upon a quote from a funding executive who said they weren’t supporting films…they were supporting filmmakers). Maybe that’s why Canadian TV enjoys greater success, because the story, the project, is the main thing. Maybe too many motion pictures fail to catch on at the box office because it was never really the film itself that caught on with the people funding and making it. Does Carl Bessai get his movies made because people are blown away with the potential in the stories…or because he says: “I’m Carl Bessai, damn it, and I’ve made a lot of movies — so trust me!”

I mean, if you are going to give credence to a filmmaker, it should be because of the films he or she has made. That is, don’t say, “I like this filmmaker, so I like this film” but rather say: “I liked this film, so I’m interested in what this filmmaker will do next.”

Now nothing is objective — as I say, I might hate a film…and another reviewer might praise it, or vice versa. There are Canadian movies that I have liked…that still bomb and, perhaps more troubling (from my point of view), received indifferent or negative reviews.

In truth…quite a few movies get bad — or at least middling — reviews anyway. That’s kind of the problem with judging Canadian films versus American or British film. Because you can leaf through your local paper and read reviews of the current crop of American films and, honestly, most of those reviews will be pretty indifferent, too. The difference, as I’ve noted before, is that if a reviewer gives a bad review of an American film, it’s just a bad review of that film…even if it’s the tenth bad review he’s given a film in a row. Yet if he gives a bad review of a Canadian film..it is seen as indicative of the entire industry, and every film that came before and every film that will come after.

And no, I’m not done yet. Next time (if all goes well) my “guide to making good movies” – ain’tcha just on the edge of your seat?

And some of what she says is interesting, or worth looking at, but a lot…well a lot just strikes me as the same old same old. Rozema writes about the need to explore cross-media — making use of the internet, youtube, video games, etc. Even suggesting films as we know it are on their way out (which can smack a little of a kid not picked for the team storming off and saying: “Well, I didn’t want to be on your stupid team anyway!”) And that’s fine — and far be it for a Luddite like me to say “nay” to exploring new media opportunities. But it also strikes me as the old problem in Canadian film (and flashbacks to Sam & Me promotional sun glasses!): talking about re-painting a house to make it more appealing when you need to be laying new pipes and tearing up the rotted floor boards.

The best way to make more successful Canadian movies…is to make better movies!

Okay, yes, I know that’s stupid and silly. “Better” is a subjective concept. What I like, you might not, and what Rozema hates, you might think is cool.

Rozema has a point when she says (I’m paraphrasing) we need to get two or three successes in a row. I’ve said before a problem facing Canadian film is a kind of stigma. A badly reviewed American film is just a badly reviewed film, even if it comes on the heels of ten other badly reviewed American films. A badly reviewed Canadian film is seen as symptomatic of the entire industry, and the whole biz is expected to carry the shame of its failure. As such, even when a Canadian movie is successful, even when people like it…it is often regarded as the exception that proves the rule. So it would help to have a public mentality that allows bad Canadian movies to be regarded as simply bad movies, and good Canadian movies as simply being good movies. Yet with that said: wishing it won’t make it so, and that’s not really a strategy.

Too often in Canadian film there’s a feeling that no one wants to address the issue that maybe a lot of Canadian movies don’t do well…because a lot of them aren’t very good. Or, to phrase it in a less incendiary way, a lot aren’t very commercial. I mean, even when critics (or fellow filmmakers) praise a movie, often it can seem more like they admire the film, they appreciate the film, they applaud what the filmmaker was going for (or simply are pals with the filmmaker) — as opposed to genuinely in their hearts saying: “That was a great movie — I loved it! I laughed! I cried! I was on the edge of my seat! I’m going to buy a DVD of it for my shelf to put right next to all the American and British films that I really love!”

I’d love to know what movies the cream of Canadian cinema have on their DVD shelf. All those people praising Canadian film and saying the problem is only that they aren’t being supported by a fickle, brain-washed audience…do they actually have many Canadian movies nestled between their DVDs of Casablanca and Inception, between Tootsie and The Bridge on the River Kwai?

Even her suggestion that there needs to be greater collaboration between English and French filmmakers is problematic. I mean, I totally agree — simply because the country should be working together. But I also think we may have blown out of proportion the mythology that Quebec has a successful film industry. It has a more successful one than English-Canada…but that’s not quite the same as saying it’s a hit making machine. Indeed, given the stereotype, I was quite surprised a few years ago when I watched a documentary about Canadian cinema and the man-in-the-street interviews with Quebecers seemed surprisingly similar to those you’d get from English-Canadians…francophones grumbling about boring elitist films that bomb at the box office!

I’m not sure it’s that Quebec churns out a lot of successes…so much as every year two or three (out of scores of films) do okay. Which, admittedly, is better than English-Canada.

But I also worry people overlook a major factor in the success of Quebec pop culture. The thing is, I’ve watched a lot of Quebec films and, honestly, I can’t necessarily say by and large I’ve enjoyed them in a significantly greater percentage than English-language films, or that I regard them as necessarily better made films. And I’m not sure if English critics (or French ones) have entirely factored in a major component: language.

Of course if you speak French you are going to prefer to see a French Quebec movie as opposed to a sub-titled or badly dubbed English language film, or even a French film where everyone has a European accent. If Hollywood made all its movies in German, I suspect you would find English-Canadians would watch a lot more English-Canadian movies.

Is the success of Quebec films and TV really because they make better films and TV, that the filmmakers are tuned into the culture…or is it maybe that they just have the protection of a language barrier? Is the reason English-language versions of Quebec shows like Sophie, or Rumours, or even He Shoots, He Scores failed really because they were just mucked up in the translation…or is it because, maybe, they weren’t really that great to begin with?

Now as I say: I agree that the English and French film and TV communities should be working together, and there should be more crossovers in talent (particularly francophone actors we don’t see enough in English) — and Bon Cop, Bad Cop was a highly entertaining romp. But I just worry that, as with so many things, too much emphasis can be put on the abstract theory rather than the cold fact. Quebec has made some decent films…but that doesn’t mean everything made in Quebec is decent. Or that English-Canadian film can be saved simply by following the French-Canadian model…or by getting a youtube channel.

All of which makes a nice prologue to my next post – stay turned…

Yoni Goldstein’s piece about how terrible ALL Canadian TV is did receive a few comments on the Huffington Post – Canada site — strongly disagreeing with him. This then led to him posting a follow-up piece…complaining about the lack of civility on the internet. It seems to be following a new trend of writers posting opinionated essays…then acting out-raged when people respond.

Oh, that’s not how he phrases it. He acknowledges comments have their place (though implies nice people would just meekly accept his opinions). What he objects to is the lack of civility in his critics…while launching into a tirade dismissing these critics as “bleating sociopaths” and “cranks” whose comments would be “laughed at” by editorial boards. He further suggests they aren’t “normal”, are uneducated, and aren‘t legitimate writers…like him.

Um…it’s easier to claim the high ground, man, if you stick to the high road.

And although I certainly agree that to be a good reporter or a journalist requires skill, training and aptitude, writing an opinion piece, as Goldstein did, just requires, well, an opinion, and an ability to put words together coherently. The wall between Goldstein and those to whom he considers himself superior exists mainly in his mind.

He even uses the term “troll” incorrectly — at least, as far as I understood the term. I thought “troll” referred to people who post negative comments for no other reason than to rile others (derived from the dual origin of the mythological monster…and a fishing lure intended to attract bites). Not to people who express a sincerely held belief, albeit, crassly.

By that definition, it was Goldstein’s initial post about Canadian TV that seemed Trollish. Because the irony is that little in his original post was intended as a thoughtful examination of his topic. I just naturally assumed his goal was to be a provocateur, and to get the hornets a-swarming. Maybe he just failed to anticipate how few people would agree with him (but how could anyone fully agree with such an un-nuanced stereotype?)

The funny thing is: the responses weren’t even that extreme (at least given the extreme tone of Goldstein’s original post). Indeed, many responded the only way possible — by simply mentioning (by name) Canadian shows they like. Does that make them “bleating sociopaths”? Sure, some posters, like heywriterboy (better known as scriptwriter Denis McGrath), lacked decorum, but McGrath tends to have a short fuse in his message board postings at the best of times. But Goldstein objects to Peter Keleghan (a well known Canadian TV actor) insulting him by saying “the Canadian content we really don’t need is Yoni Goldstein”…when Goldstein’s original post was meant to insult people like Keleghan by claiming it was a “plain and simple” fact that Canadian TV actors were inferior to American ones and ALL Canadian TV was bad. A bit of a kettle and pot situation, eh?

Goldstein’s post didn’t actually mark out any middle ground where his detractors could meet him…so why was he surprised they wouldn‘t seek it out?

Ironically, I recognize some of what Goldstein is writing about. I have encountered commentators who I have, gradually, come to suspect are “trolls” (after trying to engage them in a rational discussion and coming to the conclusion that’s not what they are looking for). I’ve also written things that, though expressing an opinion, I considered quite moderate, or at least where I attempted to lay out quite clearly the reasons for my opinion…only to then be “flamed” by people who clearly aren’t interested in considering another’s point of view.

Yet with that said, I’ve also sometimes responded to a nasty writer by taking a deep breath, biting my tongue, and writing civilly…and you’d be surprised how that can quickly diffuse the situation, causing them to scale back their own rhetoric and, before you know it, you are engaged in a reasonable discussion.

Indeed, read Goldstein’s bitter, snide post about blog comments…then read that “crank” Keleghan’s response to it, and ask yourself, who seems to be trying to fan the flames, and who dampen them?

Sorry…what’s that you say? Isn’t Huffington Post considered a liberal website? you ask.

No, no, you’re thinking of the American Huffington Post. Some months back a Canadian version of Huffington Post was started up, and all access to the U.S. Huffington Post blocked from Canada (at least, when I tried typing in its URL…I immediately got re-routed to Huffington Post – Canada). And it has a decidedly more right wing slant. At least, just as the original Huffington Post featured both right and left leaning op-ed pieces, yet is generally perceived as being “left”, so Huffington Post – Canada does post pieces from figures that are perceived as being more left (David Suzuki, among others) but the lion’s share of the writers…and the opinions expressed…tend to tilt right, with regular contributors including the likes of David Frum, Peter Worthington and Conrad Black (who recently wrote a piece defending Richard Nixon…’cause, y’know, nothing says you’re innocent like having Conrad Black come to your defense).

To be fair, maybe this reflects less an editorial bias at Huffington Post – Canada and more simply that the right mobilized faster to take advantage of it as a forum. (Certainly it hasn’t been quite as completely one-sided as it was a few months ago).

Anyway, so in this context, there have been the occasional pieces attacking the CBC…and Canadian film and TV in general.

And added to that is this recent piece  (“Less Canadian Content at CBC would be a Good Thing”) by Yoni Goldstein. Whether Goldstein would consider himself to swing right or left, I dunno. I deliberately didn’t bother looking up his other columns because I prefer to focus on his arguments, rather than the man. Although certainly, he begins bashing the CBC which given — as he freely acknowledges — his point has very little to even do with the CBC specifically, is probably telling.

He also decries the CBC’s “holier-than-thou intellectualism” which is ironic given his post is pretty elitist, all about him slamming Canadian TV for not living up to his creative and intellectual standards.

Goldstein’s target, you see, is broader than the CBC…being the entirety of Canadian television (and, we can infer, movies). Over the course of his piece he says Canadians aren’t very good at making “compelling” TV, that not one English-Canadian show would “pass muster” when compared to something made anywhere else. And that all the shows are “bland” with “cheap production values” and “sophomoric acting”.

Now part of me wonders if I read his piece too seriously. Whether he kind of intended it as a Swiftian satire, meant to galvanize the very people he seems to be criticizing. Either way, I’m not sure he quite kicked the hornet’s nest he was hoping — mine is the only piece I’m aware of that has responded to his (and, let’s face it, that’d be like a boxer stepping into a ring, itching for a bout, and the only one who can be bothered to face him…is the spit bucket boy).

But I have trouble when anyone speaks in absolutes of “all” and “every”. It kind of makes you wonder if the facts fuelled his opinion…or whether his opinion is shaping his view of the facts. I mean, I get it…Goldstein doesn’t like anything on Canadian TV. Fair enough. But one has to be able to separate your personal opinion from any kind of “objective” truth. As I’ve said before, there are plenty of shows I don’t like…but I freely acknowledge others do. And vice versa.

Personally, I’m often amazed — giving the relative paucity of Canadian productions (compared to Hollywood) — at the proportion of them that I do enjoy. I tend to make the effort to try most (English) Canadian shows…and quite a few I end up sticking with, even after I’ve seen enough to post a review. And even some shows I don’t watch regularly I still regard as well done and worth a look-in from time to time. And not as sloppy seconds compared to American or British series…but as good as those non-Canadian series I also watch (which include things like The Good Wife, Revenge, The Walking Dead and even the guilty pleasure that is Ringer). So that’s just me, my opinion…but you can understand my skepticism when Goldstein blithely concludes that all Canadian programs suck and that’s just an unarguable fact of life.

Even his criteria can leave me scratching my head. He dismisses Canadian shows as “bland”…but I’m not really sure what that means. Like with entertainment value itself, “blandness” is subjective…and also depends a lot on how you define the term. Little Mosque on the Prairie certainly offered up a fairly mild, innocuous style of sitcom humour. Yet the subject matter alone made it an international news story! Is blandness defined by style (or lack of) or by actual content? Indeed, a number of Canadian series focus on settings, subjects, and even characters (of race or gender) not represented much in American TV.

There is no doubt Canadian series struggle against their American competition — and if that’s the bee in Goldstein’s bonnet, fine. And I don’t object if he wants to deride various series — even ones I like. But as I say, it’s the absolutes that seem weird. And his failure to consider things in their context. Even he says top American series often plateau around 2.5 million viewers (out of about 20 million in English-Canada) whereas top rated Canadian series don’t usually go much past a million. Which means, out of any random selection of twenty Canadians, a top rated Canadian series might be watched by one person…and a top rated American series by two. I guess you can decide for yourself how big a spread that really is.

And how do we define that not cutting the mustard idea? Canadian series like Flashpoint and Rookie Blue bring in perfectly respectable ratings even on U.S. networks (Rookie Blue even seeming to have inspired an American rip-off…the recent NYC 22) and series like The Lost Girl are what is known as a “cult” hit, even internationally. Indeed, many of these series that Goldstein argues can’t stand up to international series…are in fact shown in foreign (and American) markets.

Whatever he (or I, or you) think of any individual series, it seems kind of ridiculous to suggest that Canadian series, across the board, are all bad and inferior to all other series.

Indeed, as often happens in such debates, Goldstein is a being a bit coy — even disingenuous. I mean, he says Canadian shows suck compared to non-Canadian shows…but then describes TV itself as an “idiot box” spewing “contrived tales”. Is a guy decrying the blandness of Canadian series really a devoted follower of, say, Downton Abbey? Of Two and a Half Men? Of Grimm? Or, if pressed, would he grudgingly admit he thinks they’re pretty bland, too? And if he did admit that…would he suddenly find that a lot people who thought they were agreeing with him…would realize they weren’t? And that’s because, as long as you are negative — everyone will agree. Not just about Canadian TV, but even American TV. Go into any room full of people and say: “TV sucks!” and odds are, everyone in the room will nod in agreement. But then if you say, “TV sucks…except ___ (fill in the blank)” suddenly everyone will be arguing over what shows are the exception.

And then we get to the most disturbing aspect of his piece. And yes, I mean disturbing. And it relates to that point about “sophomoric acting”. He goes on to boldly state that Canada’s best talent moves to Hollywood and that any one working in Canada “can’t make it in Hollywood, plain and simple.” I say it’s disturbing because this has been a stigma that has long lurked like a foul odour around Canadian talent that stays home…though usually not stated quite as boldly as Goldstein does. And it smacks of the attitude that used to be used to try and scare actors away from playing homosexuals in movies — that they would be perceived as being one if they played one. (Until the braver actors realized they wouldn’t be…and the even braver ones realized they didn’t care how they were perceived by homophobes anyway).

It apparently doesn’t occur to Goldstein that there might be other things motivating someone in life besides Hollywood money. A person might pursue a career in Canada simply because they like it here, they think it’s a good place to raise their kids. And maybe, just maybe, they stay home because they hold out a dream of helping to build a Canadian entertainment industry. “It’s not for money alone that a man spends a life building a business…it’s to preserve a way of life,” as Fezziwig explained in the 1951 version of A Christmas Carol.

By Goldstein’s thinking, any American actor who chooses a career in the theatre, rather than pursuing the big money in Hollywood, is a talentless hack. And all those British actors who populate all those critically acclaimed British films and TV shows…losers.

And let’s not forget the flip side of his thesis. That Hollywood, therefore, rewards talent — and that only the best and the brightest rise to the top. So, to cite NCIS (an American series Goldstein references, apparently approvingly) that means that an ex-rapper and an ex-Robin, the Boy Wonder are better actors than anyone appearing on Canadian screens. And maybe Goldstein believes that. Fair enough.

But do you?

(Added Apr. 25: And as a commentator below pointed out: technically, my rapper/Robin reference is to the spin-off, NCIS: LA, as opposed to NCIS).

What adds to the irony is that there isn’t a wall between Canada and the U.S. and the same actors cross back and forth all the time. Enrico Colantoni, currently starring in Flashpoint, was also in U.S. series like Veronica Mars and Just Shoot Me. Arctic Air’s Adam Beach has a bunch of American credits under his belt. Heck, Bomb Girl’s Meg Tilly was once nominated for an Oscar! There are critically acclaimed American series like the revived Battlestar Galactica which were shot in Canada and which featured a lot of Canadian actors in the cast. If Goldstein thinks all these people are bad actors — fair enough. But I’m sure he’d get an argument from their fans.

For my part, I actually do like a lot of Canadian actors, and can find myself watching things as much for the performers as for the material they are performing. That doesn’t make me right and Goldstein wrong…but you can understand why I regard his comments with bemusement.

As I say, his essay struck me as…disturbing.

It was disturbing because it wasn’t constructive. As in: “I think Canadian TV sucks…and here’s how I think it could be made better.” Goldstein doesn’t say: “Ratings are weak…how can we improve them?” He says: “Ratings are weak…so give up.”

His sole point seemed to be arguing for the complete shutting down and dismantling of the Canadian film and TV industry. The old: “if there are Canadian stories worth telling, the Americans will tell them for us” idea. And its corollary: “if the Americans don’t want to tell those stories, then we are wrong to want to tell them”. In Goldstein’s ideal world, for instance, there would be no First Nations actors on TV. And his comments are based on absolutes and broad generalities that even he must surely realize are not shared by all (such as the million or so viewers who watch Republic of Doyle, or Bomb Girls, or Flashpoint, or Rookie Blue). And driven by a seeming desire, not simply to argue a point of view, but to brow beat others into accepting it (by stigmatizing and denigrating anyone who chooses to stay home and work in Canadian film and TV).

One gets the feeling Goldstein (and those who share his views) want this to be true as much as they believe it to be. I mean, surely most of us, even if we arrived at the same conclusion, would do so with a certain sadness, a certain regret. The dream is dead, we’d say, but we tried — alas. Instead, there seems a certain hand rubbing glee fuelling his assault.

I try to be up front — I support the idea of a successful, populist Canadian film & TV industry. Beyond that, I’m open to any and all ideas that might encourage that. Re-think funding? Bring in capital punishment for filmmakers who make lousy movies? Hey — nothing’s off the table. But my end goal is a strong, healthy Canadian industry.

Yet one gets the impression with some other people their end goal is the opposite. They want the industry shut down, period…and they’re not too particular about how or why. By the end of his essay Goldstein is making it pretty clear he doesn’t like or respect TV…even admonishing people to turn off their TVs, and read a book, or listen to music (’cause, y’know, nothing stimulates the intellect and the social conscience like listening to an under dressed pop star sing “Oh, baby, do me! Do me!”). Yet nonetheless he wants us to believe that he’s offering an objective assessment of the relative merits of Canadian TV compared with American TV. That’d be like a guy arguing adamantly that one Indian restaurant is worse than another…and then admitting he doesn’t actually like Indian cuisine.

Huh?

It smacks a bit of that chronic self-loathing that crops up so often in discussions about Canadian culture…and the right wing agenda that is desperate to tear down or denigrate anything that exists that might foster a sense of Canadian identity and culture removed from the United States.

Indeed, Goldstein’s piece was so bizarre, as I say, I do wonder if I misunderstood it, and that he meant it as a joke, as satire, a call to arms for those working in Canadian TV by offering such an over the top screed.

But then again…he was posting on Huffington Post – Canada.

For a follow-up piece – see my next post.

In the recent government budget that was announced, the budget for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation has been cut by a few million over the next few years (10 percent over three years…whatever that means). I wasn’t necessarily going to comment — since only time will tell what the affect will be. But one or two long time readers suggested I should — and since I’m just impressed as all get out that anyone might encourage my opinion (giving even I can find myself a crushing bore at times)…why not?

Now, at face value, looking at the budget cuts, one might say: so what? After all, it is a global recession. It’s not like the CBC is being singled out for cuts or lay offs. According to almost all the pundits, Canada’s economy has weathered the current situation better than just about anyone else’ (including the United States, Europe, Japan, etc.) — the Conservative government (and their supporters in the conservative media) claim credit for this, boasting about their moderate and steady-as-she-goes budget when the crisis first hit…though that wasn’t what they were saying when the opposition parties twisted their arms while shaping that earlier budget (for those as liked the budget, the Conservatives are happy to claim credit, for those as didn’t, they said it was the opposition that made them do it). And, of course, most economists will tell you part of the reason Canada weathered the storm so well was because of policies brought in and implemented by earlier (Liberal) governments. So — as with so many things in life — the truth is presumably some where in the middle.

Still, the reality is that, though Canada is in a better position than most countries — it’s still bad times, and money is short, and budgets have to be cut.

But there’s also the other side of the story. The story that says the Conservatives have never liked the CBC, and have been gunning for it ever since most of them were in knee pants, and the economy is really just an excuse to start nicking away at it, so that it will die a slow, gradual death by bleeding out — but a death they can wash their hands of and claim innocence in a way they couldn’t if they just shut it down entirely. I mean 10 percent is a pretty sizeable pound of flesh to demand.

Though whether the Conservatives really hate the CBC as much as they claim is certainly a question. Of course they complain about the fiscal situation of tax payers dollars supplementing a network. And yes, they complain about a perceived “left wing” bias (even as, ironically, many lefties complain the CBC is too right wing). But for many rural people (a voter base the Conservatives like to claim as their own), the CBC is still a powerful institution, in some rural communities their main media source, and certainly the only media giant that caters to a broad spectrum of the public, as opposed to a narrow, high spending demographic (ie: young urbanites). Even some Sun Media columnists (the Sun Media having set itself up as the CBC’s arch enemy in the drama that is Canadian media wars) — even some Sun Media columnists, while stridently calling for the dismantling of the CBC…will then grudgingly admit their family watches Heartland, or they listen to CBC Radio…because the private, commercial networks certainly aren’t offering comparable programs. Many ultra-right wingers would complain the Conservatives cuts don’t go far enough — they’re flesh wounds more than mortal blows.

The CBC supposedly costs tax payers 1.1 billion a year — which sounds like a lot. Until you realize that 1.1 billion pays not just for a TV network — but two networks (in French and English, each with their own programming), all news networks (in French and English), and a number of radio networks in French and English (CBC 1, CBC 2, etc.), a web presence — and probably a few other things I’m missing — all running in many cases 24 hours a day, offering primarily original, home grown programs (when most of the private TV networks only devote a fraction of their broadcasting to Canadian programs…and I’m pretty sure there is no Canadian private radio station that offers anything like CBC Radio…you’d have to look to NPR in the U.S., or BBC in the U.K. for anything comparable). Viewed that way — I dunno — to me 1.1 billion seems like a bargain!

And there is the added argument that money spent on the arts actually stimulates the economy, as it involves a variety of fields and disciplines — from the “artists”, to caterers and construction workers. And the casts and crews support local businesses simply through patronage, and most TV and movie productions are a collaboration between different companies. When the CBC makes something, they aren’t footing the whole bill…but their contribution encourages the other partners to throw money in the pot. Not to mention long term dividends (The Beachcombers is still airing in parts of the world, bringing in licensing revenues, decades after it ceased production). So it could be argued slashing the CBC’s budget might actually make the economic crisis worse, rather than better.

But, as I say: taken at face value, it’s hard not to accept some cuts were inevitable, simply because everyone is receiving cuts. After all, the Conservatives have to find the money to pay for their gazebos and their fighter jets — the latter apparently having added almost 10 billion to their cost the government neglected to tell us about (and just for those of you who like to keep track, that extra 10 billion? That could’ve kept the entire CBC going for about a decade).

And, yeah, that above paragraph was kind of snarky and overtly political.

As I say, it’s hard to object too much to cuts. Perhaps the amount of cuts, the timing of the cuts, but in the current circumstances, not cuts in and of themselves.

It’s what the CBC does with those cuts that will be telling — reflecting the priorities of the current brass and suggest what the future holds.

Because the CBC is such a big, umbrella organization — TV and radio, news, sports and entertainment, French and English — it’s almost hard to focus on any one area, or decide what should be prioritized. Needless to say, with a blog like this, my focus remains principally drama and entertainment. I don’t dispute the importance of news and information programming — far from it — but if I have a particular field of study, it’s entertainment. Of course, a lot of columnists and editorialists, being newsmen and journalists (or ex-newsmen and ex-journalists) focus on news. I came upon one column where the commentator said that, of course, the CBC’s priorities should be news, followed by sports…with entertainment shows at the bottom of the heap! Now as I say, I certainly don’t undervalue news coverage, but I think his priorities reflected his biases as much as any incisive evaluation. Particularly when he puts sports up there. Personally I’d put news and entertainment on close to equal footing. The thing about entertainment is that though it’s seeming frivolous…it’s part of a long term culture. News is of today…entertainment lives on into tomorrow. Today, people may know Jonathan Swift wrote a satirical essay entitled “A Modest Proposal“…but people actually still read “Gulliver’s Travels“.

At the same time, entertainment is more expensive to produce than news…so it’s an obvious target when looking to cut budgets. But it also boasts the bigger profile, not to mention a possibility of long term profits (Heartland reruns will still be airing, in various countries, years after the series itself ceases production…whereas a news show, understandably, exists for the moment). While sports — sports is in that odd position of often bringing in good ratings…yet the cost of the broadcast rights often mean it still costs more to air than it brings in. The CBC is supposedly hoping to get broadcast rights to the up-coming Olympics…yet everyone agrees they’ll spend more acquiring the rights than they can ever hope to recoup in ad revenues — so they if they’re looking to save money, they should just walk away.

Anyway, as I say, entertainment is my metier, so that’s what we’ll look at.

After all, the CBC has been bragging that it’s had one of its best seasons in years — Republic of Doyle has enjoyed its best ratings ever (or, at least, its most consistently best ratings — individual episodes might have bounced up as high before…but not maintained for most of the season as it has this year). While Heartland, Arctic Air and, to a lesser extent, Mr. D have all performed respectably — better than Being Erica, InSecurity and the critically acclaimed Michael: Tuesdays & Thursdays (Little Mosque is a non-issue, since this was going to be its final season anyway). If you believe the PR, the Mother Corp is on the right track, so now is not the time to cut and run…or even to blink. Now, the cynic might also worry that the Machiavellian minds behind-the-scenes might see this as a great PR chance. That instead of standing by their popular shows…they might cancel them, blame the budget cuts, and then smugly sit back and wait for the public outrage to come to their rescue. Yeah — tempting. But a bad gamble. I doubt any government, anywhere, has been brought down by outraged TV fans — though it might just lead to the network’s demise if they cancel the shows people are actually watching.

I suppose an exception might be Coach’s Corner — cancel that, blame the government, and the Conservatives might well feel the heat from their voter base.

I came upon a piece written by Bill Brioux that, interestingly enough, I more-or-less agree with. I might quibble here and there, but in general, I agree with his suggestions, and the rationale behind them. As an example, he says cancel Michael: Tuesdays & Thursdays but keep Mr. D. I liked Michael…and I really dis-like Mr. D — but if money is short, ratings win out, and Mr. D brought in bigger audiences than Michael. Granted, if culling has to be done, I believe Mr. D. is trailing the rest of the herd (Republic, Heartland, Arctic Air), at least by a bit — I’m just sayin’. He also suggests money could be saved — not by cancelling series — but by ordering slightly shorter episode runs and shave an episode or two off a season.

Unfortunately, the fact that I can read Brioux’s piece and find it makes sense (when normally you’d expect if you ask two guys, you’d get two opinions) it makes one worry that that’s a sign the brass will do the exact opposite. Common sense often rarely invoked by network programmers.

But I’m going to suggest something more controversial.

Do “cuts” need to be made…or could a lot be done simply with trimming?

My late grandfather used to work for Imperial Oil back during the Great Depression (y’know, the economic collapse that makes this depression — at least here in Canada — look like no more than a bad hair day). According to him, Imperial Oil made a promise to its workers that no one would be laid off. Hours were cut, people worked ridiculous shifts (my grandfather missed a few family Christmases) but every one had food on the table for their families, and a job when so many others were lining up at soup kitchens. My grandfather remained a loyal Imperial Oil customer till the day he died, long after he retired from the company. The company stood by its workers…and the workers stood by the company.

That’s a lesson forgotten, or not learned, by more than a few CEOs today who, when times are tough, just fire people. One could also blame some unions, for not accepting compromise deals and salary cuts but, often, there’s a feeling a lot of sacrifices companies ask are not in good faith (the workers asked to accept pay cuts even as the brass is voting themselves bonuses).

Now, the thing is: I’m not a communist. I like to own things too much! I am a kind of soft socialist — I believe in a safety net, a helping hand. But I also believe success should be rewarded, that people deserve incentives to excel in their fields — and those incentives include bigger pay checks than their buddies, and better perks. Everyone deserves a roof over their heads and shoes on their feet, but everyone shouldn’t be entitled to a flat screen TV and a heated swimming pool.

With that said, in times of economic trouble, there’s nothing wrong with everyone pitching in and tightening their belts.

What this is all leading to is to ask, could the CBC cut costs, not by cutting shows, or jobs, but by cutting perks and salaries? And I don’t mean of the camera operators and the day players. I’m talking of the top salary people — the executives, the brass, the Peter Mansbridges and, yes, the Don Cherrys! In fact, it’s ironic that when Cherry was demanding a salary increase a few years ago, many of the conservative pundits who decry the CBC as a waste of tax payers dollars equally demanded the CBC should pay Cherry what he demanded (and they did in the end). As I say: I believe in paying bigger salaries for the bigger guys. I do. I think these guys deserve to be rich, and well fed, and the envy of their peers so that those peers have something to strive for. I’m not saying Mansbridge should work for scale. But I am saying, should there be a ceiling in fiscally uncertain times? I mean, if anyone is being paid more than, say, a hundred thousand a year…that’s pretty excessive (given most average people probably earn less than half that). I mean, sure, I don’t know what real estate is worth in Toronto, or what other expenditures they might have. Though I suspect they also enjoy quite a few lunches, dinners, and trips to exotic locales that they can bill to the company as “business expenses” so that they aren’t even paying for a lot of their daily needs out of their own pocket anyway.

And bear in mind, I’m not just singling out the CBC — this could be said about the private networks, and other industries…and politicians.

And for that matter — if big salaries are to be earned…how do we decide who warrants it? A few years back I commented on the salaries of the movers and shakers in the Canadian film & TV biz where I said that given all the problems in the biz, movies that bomb, shows that struggle in the ratings — where even people who like a show often perceive it as the “exception” in a landscape of mediocre programs — some of these exorbitant salaries seemed, well, exorbitant. And I cheekily suggested it seemed strange that executives were paid more than, say, the guy who bags your groceries, when that guy at least is performing a service people want! (For that matter, if a company — any company — is laying off workers, isn’t that a sign the brass was doing a bad job of running things and so don’t deserve a big salary?!?) Now, obviously, from the inner-workings of the biz, a lot of these movers and shakers are actually doing quite well for their shareholders, the companies turning a little profit…but from the public’s point of view, it seems bizarre that some production company heads get salaries in the six — even seven — figures, when the public can’t point to a single “successful” thing they ever produced.

Now, I repeat — I believe in big salaries for the top players. I just question whether they need to be as big as they are. I wonder if the CBC cut back on its executive lunches, and hosting conferences in ritzy ski resorts, could a few overseas news bureaus be kept viable? If the top executives and top stars trimmed a little off their salaries, could a few more film editors and roving reporters be kept on the pay roll?

And think of the PR coup? I mean if Don Cherry announced that he was voluntarily — voluntarily! — taking a pay cut so four other guys could keep their jobs? Well, let’s just say, the next time there was a “greatest Canadian” pole, he’d probably come in higher than seventh place.

Now, to be fair, I guess no one’s quite sure what Mansbridge, or programming executive Kristine Stewart, or TV host George  Stroumboulopoulos actually earn. Maybe it’s not really that much. But if they are earning more than a $100 000 a year — they could probably stand to shave a bit. And yes, I realize that that’s harsh compared to Hollywood, where TV stars are getting paid more than that per episode! But really, it’s kind of ridiculous to pay top dollar to the top talent and the top brass if the network itself has to cannibalize itself just to keep afloat, if the network has to cut programs — the programs people are actually watching.

You can be comfortably well off without having to be super rich.

I’m reminded of the scene in “It’s a Wonderful Life” where George Bailey is exhorting his neighbours to take, not what they want from the Savings & Loans, but only what they need — and that way, everybody wins.

It could also be presented as a temporary “crisis” solution — the CBC publicly stating that this isn’t the new “norm” and the salaries will rise once the economy is steadier. In other words, pre-empt a later government from simply saying, “I guess you didn’t need that money after all.” Heck, the CBC top brass could take cuts…then publicly challenge the politicians to emulate their altruism by cutting their own salaries and perks — tossing them the proverbial hot potato.

Unlike right wing detractors, I don’t see the CBC as a waste of money or a drain on tax payers. As mentioned, when you actually consider what the CBC puts out — both the number of Canadian programs, and the sheer variety — compared to the private networks, it’s actually quite astonishing. And maybe the CBC brass’ reaction to the budget cuts could be turned around and used as a chance for the Mother Corp to go right on…astonishing us.

Canadian TV is a curious beast — often suffering from tepid ratings (though not as bad as detractors claim) and feeling like it’s struggling to achieve success. Yet, at the same time, one could argue given how few series are aired in a year (compared to Hollywood) it’s remarkable the percentage of good series. I mean, I’m more than comfortable saying series like Arctic Air, Bomb Girls, Being Human, Flashpoint and others are all well-made, entertaining shows — and there are series I don’t like, that nonetheless boast solid ratings and a fandom. But as much as I like and enjoy them (and some others) I do think King may be my favourite Canadian TV series on the air right now (and among my top favourites, Canadian or American). And I’m not even necessarily a big devotee of cops n’ robbers crime-dramas (I’ve liked some over the years, others I enjoy, but don’t necessarily see as more than an occasional watch on a slow night).

King is a police crime-drama that airs on Showcase — and though it’s generally well regarded I’ll make the case that it deserves a lot more kudos than it’s receiving. Ratings wise, it’s struggling — curiously, this year the ratings are even lower, despite no appreciable drop in quality (some reviews saying it’s even better now, in its sophomore year). Granted, it’s been moved to a new night (Wednesdays) and time slot, which may be a factor. And though it’s a cliche for fans of low-rated TV series to blame marketing and lack of PR, I would argue that King doesn’t really seem to get much of a push from programmers. Earlier this year, its first season was given a second window airing on network TV, on Global – except the re-runs were accompanied by next to no marketing or promotion that I was aware of (in contrast to Bomb Girls and The Firm, both of which received commercial ads up the whazzoo — and had solid ratings). At least, it received little promotion outside of venues devoted to Canadian productions (such as the website TV-Eh) — but that’s a bit like preaching to the choir, ain’t it?

Most people I’ve mentioned the series too haven’t even heard of it!

Since I can be as fascinated by the way people react to a movie or TV show, as intrigued by the process of forming an opinion, as I can be by a show itself, I’m curious about how people react to King. As I said, I think it has generally received good reviews. But they can be a bit perfunctory. As in: “Yeah, it’s a good cop drama…now let’s move on…”

I can’t decide if that’s because I’m seeing too much in it…or whether its subtler, juicier bits are just whizzing over the heads of a lot of critics.

In a way, King should be that ideal melange of aspects: it’s a perfectly mainstream, perfectly accessible cop drama — that nonetheless is quirky and offers aspects I’ve rarely (if ever) seen in other cop series. If you like Bones, or The Mentalist, or CSI or what have you, you should feel perfectly at home with King. The stories are well paced, with plenty of twists and turns and red herrings to hold you through the commercial breaks. And if occasionally you can guess the solution, it’s usually just a scene or two before the heroes — and that’s because they generally are playing fair with the clues (unlike some detective series). And the plots generally hold together. A problem I have with Republic of Doyle (which, admittedly, sees itself as a comedy-drama) is that often I feel you can drive the entire island of Newfoundland through the plot holes and gaps in logic and plausibility in many of its episodes, as though they’re shooting from first draft scripts. And even American series like, for instance, The Mentalist can leave me shaking my head in disbelief at the ludicrousness of the plot and solution.

King’s basically of the straight-faced “realist” detective genre — it’s not about a colourful psychic, or novelist, or whoever helping the police. There’s even a deliberately raw, 1970s vibe evoking that seminal era of crime dramas (including a jazzy score). At the same time…there’s a lot of wit and humour, making it more than just a dour procedural, with a few eccentrics in the squad you wouldn’t find in most real station houses.

But as I say, in broad strokes, King is JACS (just another cop show) — but given the prevalence of such shows, you might think that would be commercially advantageous. Particularly as I would argue it’s better than many — well paced, with reasonably plausible mysteries.

Yet I’m not always a huge fan of cop dramas — I mean, I can enjoy ‘em, but I can equally take or leave a lot of them, too. So what catches my attention about King is that for all that it’s JACS — equally it’s its own animal.

For one thing, and it might be a minor distinction, is that by being about an umbrella “Major Crimes” Task Force, the stories can stray outside of the rigidly formulaic “murder of the week” plots of most detective series. Sometimes — yes. But sometimes the stories involve robberies or kidnapping, where no one ends up dead by the end credits. It can allow for different stories…or different flavours to old stories.

There’s also just some good writing in King — at least, to my mind. Quirky exchanges, or subtle dialogue with punch. A scene in a recent episode about a kidnapping has King pragmatically reflecting on the necessity of paying the ransom by saying: “Worse case scenario, we get the girl back and the kidnappers escape with the money.” To which her colleague says: “That’s not the worst case scenario.” I dunno — I just liked that exchange, and what it says about the characters (their focus on the victim more than punishing the crooks) and how the meaning is in what they aren’t saying.

There is an emotional content to many of the episodes. Whereas a lot crime-dramas are basically procedurals, following a trail of twists and turns, the suspects and guest stars basically there to pad out an interrogation scene, in King there is a human drama aspect to the cases (reminding me, in a way, of the well-regarded American cop drama, Life). The victims (and victimizers) are usually characters, and not just plot devices, and King herself in a few episodes butts heads with other characters as she reminds them their first priority is protecting the innocent, more than punishing the guilty. And this maybe leads to consistently good guest star performances — it isn’t that King is drawing upon a different talent pool than other Canadian TV series, but the actors are given actual parts to play, emotions to realize. And sometimes it’s unexpected roles — like Aaron Berg in the first season as the leader of a White Supremacist group. He only has three or four scenes…but each one succinctly peels back another layer of the character, and he has to play each facet. A lot of cop dramas I can barely recall who was in an episode, while I could fill up the entire Guest Star category at the Geminis solely with King nominations, in part because the roles (and the choices the actors make when playing those roles) aren’t always what you’d expect.

And maybe it’s the very succinctness of the roles that is so impressive. Flashpoint boasts some nice guest turns — but that’s kind of obvious, since the guest stars are the focus of the episodes, the plots wrapped around them. In King, the actors might only get two or three scenes…but they can be well written, well acted scenes with emotional punch.

And then we get to the regular cast, and the regular characters.

I sometimes find that I can watch things and feel there’s nothing wrong with the acting — the actors give you the emotions you need — but I can “see” the performance. I’m aware of the choices the actors make when pausing, or twitching their eyebrow. And I’ll admit — I’m just not “seeing” that in King. Most of the actors seem so in tune with their characters that you are with them, in the moment. Maybe only after the fact, during the commercial, do you stop and think about how they played they scene, but during the show, the actors are their characters. That’s a large credit to the actors…but also maybe a nod to the dialogue and the direction. The scene, or the moment, zigging when you just assumed it was going to zag.

There’s been a bit of a cast change for the new season, with Aaron Poole and Zoe Doyle gone (as well as Suzanne Coy, but she was written out mid-way through the last season — which was too bad) replaced by Rossif Sutherland and Karen Robinson. When I heard about the cast shake up, I had visions of a “baby with the bath water” overhaul — but it really does feel like precision fine tuning: The good things about King remain. Poole and Doyle were, frankly, weaker links — not necessarily a criticism of the actors themselves, maybe just the roles, or their placing in the ensemble dynamic. But Robinson and Sutherland feel like stronger support beams in the King house. Robinson brings an understatedness to her role, nicely keeping the scenes rooted in a kind of quasi-realism. While Sutherland adds a quirkiness, without being (too often) distractingly colourful — his neophyte character seems like he’d be more at home academically giving seminars at the Police Academy than prowling the mean streets. Sutherland has begun to make his mark recently in Canadian film and TV, but this kind of self-depecrating everyman role inparticular really plays to his strengths — and, indeed, for the first time I can actually see a bit of his famous dad, Donald, in his performance. Maybe it’s because of King’s 1970s vibe, but you can see a slight echo of Donald from his Klute or Invasion of the Body Snatchers Days. And Rossif Sutherland brings a mumbling low-keyness to his delivery, further putting you in mind of the early 1970s and Hollywood’s flirtation with a cinema verite style (an early scene with Sutherland, where he jokes about his height allowing him to reach the top shelfs, being an example).

And both Robinson and Sutherland’s characters suggest where King’s heart lies — this isn’t a macho action show. These are cops who would rather be investigating than getting into shoot outs (though Sutherland has been called on to tackle a suspect or two).

But the real character heart of King remains with King herself, and star Amy Price-Francis, and the romantic triangle formed with fellow detective Spears (Alan Van Sprang) and King’s husband (Gabriel Hogan). Van Sprang and Hogan are very good — again, rooting you in the moment and their characters, rather than thinking about the actors rehearsing their lines before a mirror to get that perfect arched eyebrow look. Van Sprang, inparticular, has to play a character who is equally King’s stalwart right hand, a competent investigator in his own right…and also a hopelessly love-struck would be suitor who hears “maybe” when King says “no”…without being too creepy about it.

There are a lot of TV heroes who are perfectly fine…and perfectly bland. The characters popped out of a cookie cutter — generic heroes, whose dialogue you could probably mouth ten seconds before the actors do. I just caught the first episode of the new, big budget U.S. drama Missing, with Ashley Judd. It was…okay (albeit with a dubious premise, where you can’t help thinking she’s hindering, more than helping, the investigation by insisting on going it alone!) Anyway…the thing is, Judd’s character was a likeable, perfectly okay heroine…and, at least based on the pilot episode, a perfectly bland, perfectly non-descript personality. A nice, safe, middle-of-the-road heroine. There was nothing particularly quirky about her, or that you could hang your hat on (though I did like the cute scene where she’s interrogating a young woman…and then chastises her for smoking, the “mom” side of her personality momentarily overriding the “secret agent” side). It’s a role counting as much on Judd’s charisma as the written words to interest us. And that’s basically true of a lot of TV heroes — we tend to define heroes by very narrow parameters. Particularly female heroes. *

And I don’t fully fault that. I’ve certainly seen series where they go for something off-beat…and all you end up with is an obnoxious lead, or a character that’s just too hard to empathize with. A lot of series I’m cool on because I don’t especially like the heroes…but equally, a lot of series I’m cool on because there’s nothing interesting or unexpected about the heroes. You could take the dialogue for a character in one cop drama, and put it in the mouth of the hero in another cop drama, and no one would notice the switch.

But if King, the series, is a fairly straight forward mystery/crime-drama (albeit with an eye to Human Drama undercurrents) King, the character, strikes me as a bracingly original, refreshing heroine. Despite my mentioning that King is “realistic”, there is a certain heightenedness to King herself — she really is supposed to be the smartest, sharpest person in the room. Sherlock Holmes more than just a middling-to-bright investigator. She also knows it — and her character is fun to watch because she is, at times rude, brusque, obnoxious, a character with few filters on what she says and does. Often bruising those around her, but unintentionally, like the scene where she hands her temporarily estranged husband his cash “allowance” in front of other characters — something definitely humiliating to his macho ego. But the point of King…is that she isn’t deliberately mean, she just is myopically focused. She’s House…if House was fundamentally a nice, compassionate, well meaning person. But that’s what makes her interesting — she’s a paradox. She’s both the (emotionally) strongest, toughest — flintiest — character in the room…and yet also fragile, bottling up her hearbreaks and frustrations. And, of course, a good character has feet of clay, so with King we’re aware of her blunders as well as her successes. She’s a great cop — a liberal, compassionate cop more interested in justice than protecting the boy’s club of the “thin blue line” — but her personal life is a mess. Some of it she’s trying to deal with…some of which she’s responsible for.

And part of that is the juggling of the two men in her life: the husband she’s seemingly committed to…and the co-worker who she sends wildly mixed signals to. I mean, there aren’t too many series where our heroine — the gal we are supposed to be rooting for and sympathetic to — gets pregnant and yet can’t honestly say for sure whether her lawful husband is even the father! I can imagine conservative viewers as lumping it in with Modern Family and all the other series they see as responsible for the “decline of western civilization”. More to the point, she doesn’t entirely care. As she says to Spears (the possible father) “the baby isn’t yours…it will never be yours.” The meaning being: the world is as she wills it to be, biology be damned.

It’s perhaps problematic to attribute too much politics to a show’s success or failure — sometimes audience indifference is just audience indifference. But I could well imagine King having a bit of trouble winning viewers precisely because of its female lead. Not that there haven’t been female led cop dramas before — but King premiered around the same time as female-led U.S. series like The Chicago Code and Prime Suspect, both of which I believe enjoyed good reviews, and both of which suffered from poor ratings. The cop genre — specifically the “realist” cop drama (as opposed to those about colourful amateur detectives) — can be a bit mired in Old School machismo. While Jessica King is definitely the Alpha Dog in her pack, not just professionally, but personally, the men basically pursuing her like love struck puppies. Heck, King had a tryst with a co-worker and it remains an Elephant in the Room with her husband…neither of them has overtly acknowledged it, but we can infer the husband kind of knows it happened. That’s a reverse of the usual gender cliches — the wife who would rather not know about possible infidelities. Yet if King might be too strong a female for those with fragile male egos…her feet of clay, her inner fragility, her eccentricities (like a penchant for foot wear) might equally turn off some female viewers who often seem to feel women heroes have to be uber-women, that to suggest a female hero is any less than perfect is somehow a misogynistic conspiracy.

Personally, I kind of like troubled heroines carrying around a certain amount of baggage. Indeed, as a guy, maybe I’m a bit sexist…because I probably cut a troubled (pretty) female hero more slack than I would a similarly written male hero, who I might just dismiss as an obnoxious pig. Of course, that might be partly because if some of King’s characteristics were written into a male character…the (male) writers might not intend then to be perceived as character flaws! But as I say, I have a fondness for damaged heroines whose greatest virtues can equally be their biggest flaws — Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Veronica Mars, Claire Danes in Homeland, Sarah Shahi in Life, Sarah Shahi in Fairly Legal…uh, okay, maybe I just like Sarah Shahi.

But that’s the point — King isn’t always admirable…even as she is sympathetic. And part of that — a lot of that — is attributable to star Amy Price-Francis. I could imagine a lot of actresses — good, talented actresses — who couldn’t pull the threads together as well. In whose hands King would be just obnoxious, rather than endearingly acerbic. Or who couldn’t quite pull off the “brains”. Or couldn’t quite convince you this pretty, slender “girl” could ride herd over a squad of detectives simply through force of will. I mentioned before the “choices” an actor must make when playing a scene — where to put in the pause, whether to smile or frown during a certain line. And I love Price-Francis’ choices…even as you can rarely put your finger on them, Jessica King, not Amy Price-Francis, seeming to be in control of the moment. And, again, that’s also a mark of the writing and the direction.

Granted — and I suspect I’m crossing a line here — I do sometimes wish Price-Francis’ friends and co-workers would make a little more effort to gently steer her toward the catering truck between takes. Still, I guess different people have different metabolisms, and only Price-Francis (and her GP) know if she’s looking after herself enough.

What’s perhaps interesting about King’s femaleness is that it is actually used as part of the narrative. By that I mean, though there have been heroines heading cop dramas before (in Canada there was Cold Squad and Blue Murder, and probably others) usually the parts could just as easily have been re-written for a male character. But with King’s plot lines involving pregnancy — trying to get pregnant, being pregnant, trying to figure out how to juggle career and family — her dilemmas are specifically geared toward a female heroine. And this allows the series to work in scenes and sub-plots I’m not sure I’ve seen in other cop dramas — sometimes painfully so.

In a recent episode, while the squad investigated a generic kidnapping plot (with the usual twists and turns, involving rival businesses, and a Romeo & Juliet aspect) underneath is a sub-plot where the pregnant King starts to miscarry. At first it’s just a few minor warning signs, and her doctor advises her to simply go home, take it easy, and hope for the best. So King runs the investigation literally from her bedroom. But there’s just a heartbreaking inevitability to that plot line, as King is initially being nonchalant, carrying on like this is a minor inconvenience, yet as the episode progresses, and her symptoms become more acute, rather than lessening, both she and those around her are aware of where it’s headed…and there’s not a lot that can be done. There are a lot of things that can be treated with pills or procedures, but if the human body starts to miscarry, that’s just biology.

As I say, I’m not sure I’ve seen a miscarriage plot in a cop drama before — and, indeed, usually in non-crime dramas it’s more “dramatic”, the shocking moment where the heroine finds blood on the sheets. The very nonchalance of its treatment in King, the very doling it out over the episode as a slow, inevitable, progression, just made it surprisingly dramatic.

Of course for those who say they don’t turn on a cop drama to watch miscarriage plots, or to wonder who the heroine will sleep with, it should be reaffirmed that these are, of course, sub-plots. The bread and the butter of the weekly episodes are first and foremost the crimes — the mystery, the cases, the snappy banter. But as with so many modern series, a part of what drags you back from week to week is the character stuff.

I’ve said a time or two before that every story has been told — and so that’s why it can be in the little things, the quirky embellishments, that a story becomes reinvigorated. Certainly in some of King’s cases-of-the-week you can hear echoes of similar plots used in previous crime-dramas (though I remember coming upon one posting by someone who criticized King for supposedly stealing a plot from another cop series…but that series, itself, had stolen it from yet an earlier series) so it’s in the little details that old stories become new, the individuality of the characters, the narrative focus (is it about the crime? or the impact of the crime on the victims?). It isn’t that the threads involving King’s private life should be weighted over the mystery-crime plots…but it’s the fact of them, and how it shapes the character interaction, that means the primary scenes dealing with the mystery-crime plots can be distinguished from Law & Order, or Flashpoint (and those series can be distinguished from King).

Writing all this about King — which, after all, has turned into a literary-style analysis as much as a review — probably won’t change anyone’s mind who has seen it. I mean — it might. I’ve certainly seen (or read) things that I was casually indifferent to, yet then when someone drew my attention to the subtleties, the nuances, I did find myself going back and appreciating things I glossed over the first time. But probably if you were indifferent to King, my praising it won’t change your mind — nor should it necessarily. But maybe if you haven’t seen King, or even heard of it, reading my rather fawning assessment of it might encourage you to seek it out and give it a try. And decide for yourself.

Added May 8: For more of me prattling about King — here’s a later post with a (slightly) more critical eye.

* Post-script added Mar. 23: I just wanted to make the point that I’m not actually criticizing the heroine in Missing — indeed, after seeing the 2nd episode, I like Ashley Judd’s performance, and I like her character (whether or not I’ll keep watching the series itself, I’m not decided on, yet). She’s a well-rounded enough role — she has moments of joy, of sadness, of kindness, of rage — but I just mean there is nothing distinctive about her, as far as a personality or character-type. She’s not dark and grim, she’s not witty and wisecracking, so far there’s no indication she loves Monster Truck rallies, or has a passion for Italian operas. And there’s nothing wrong with that — but it’s what I mean about a generic hero.