BCS

There have been ten reviews of The Duchess of Malfi so far, seven of which are either mildly or very positive. (All ten can be seen on martinforeman.me.uk.) Negative comments mostly focus on elements that others have appreciated - the heightened sexuality and violence. Of the three bad reviews, one writer makes her points reasonably, but the other two appear to suffer from BCS - Bitter Critics' Syndrome, a condition that fills the writer with so much bile that they have to vomit it out in copious quantities all over the production.

My experience as an actor is new, but as a writer and reviewer, I'm well aware of BCS. It's a common complaint. Most of us find tearing things down easier and more fun than building them up - from castles in the sand to people in public life and works of art. When it comes to reviews, being positive about something you didn't like is much more difficult than condemning it out of hand: the words come tumbling out as we smile to ourselves in malevolent glee or we frown in false pity for the individual(s) whose work we are tearing to shreds. It doesn't matter if they have invested considerable time, energy and emotion in their project - it's their fault for being so stupid and offering such a mess to the public. A critic always knows more than an artist, and the 60 minutes it takes me to slag off the work is time better spent than the 60 days or more that it took them to create it; the mere fact that I write it means that my review is of much greater value than any artist's contribution. 

The main problem with the reviewer with BCS is that their unrelenting criticism leaves a bitter taste in other mouths as well as their own. Not only that, but their comments often end up revealing not only the shortcomings in whatever they are reviewing but also shortcomings in their own personality - usually include anger, lack of humour and an inability to empathise with others. 

Of course not every reviewer has BCS and not every work of art is perfect or beyond criticism. We are surrounded by much rubbish that passes itself off as art. But there are more effective ways of dealing with bad art than showering it with vitriol. The best - and most difficult - response is to step back from the gut reaction - "this is trash" - and to examine the product from an intellectual rather than emotional perspective. In a play, for example, coolly unpicking the various elements of script, acting, direction, design etc can lead to more a indepth analysis that leads to a better review. More importantly, an intellectual response can sometimes allow the reviewer to see that while this production does not appeal to their taste, it has elements which will appeal to a different audience. In such cases, an honest reviewer will come to the conclusion "I hate it, but others may love it." The problem with this response for some reviewers is that it forces them to admit that they are not the only arbiter of taste, but merely someone with an opinion and other points of view may be equally valid.

A second option when confronted by something that seems to have no redeeming qualities, is to ignore it. This was the policy I adopted when reviewing books in the 1980s - if I could find nothing at all good to say about a title, I set it aside. If other critics found the book worth reading, they could and would say so. It's a policy I recommend. Works of art that were truly awful would never find an audience, while shouting from the rooftops that something is terrible doesn't lead the world to shun it but has the opposite effect.

Coming back to The Duchess of Malfi ... Of all the reviews published so far, the ones I have found most interesting and informative are those which have been neither relentlessly uncritical nor relentlessly condemning but where the reviewer has offered criticism as well as praise. I may not agree with everything they say, but at least they have given me something to think about and sometimes new insights into the production. In the meantime, I wait each night for the most important review - the actual audience, who almost invariably watch in rapt attention and applaud heartily at the end.