Radical film criticism—from Siegfried Kracauer to André Bazin—was banished to the dustbin of history, dragged down by the decay of the Soviet Union and the rise of cultural fatalism. Today it has reemerged in undead form, as an incessant plumbing of movies for subterranean political meanings.
Reviews are flooding the culture sections of niche and mainstream publications, digital and hardcopy alike, as writers search out covert agendas in the latest blockbusters. Princess Peach is scrutinized for her contributions to feminism, Joker forgets to mention the proletariat’s revolutionary character, and The Creator is dismissed as “demented propaganda” for “the coming AI onslaught.” Everything, it turns out, is an elaborate metaphor for capitalism—if Vox is to be believed, Minions: The Rise of Gru is onto some seriously deep shit.
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