Rigorous Means Dull? Decoding Jargon to Understand a Film’s True Worth 

Compared to the curatorial and critical language aimed at elite audiences in contemporary art, jargon used in mass-market film promotions is no longer as incomprehensible.

Glossary of film criticism jargon bGlossary of film criticism jargon by Doug Saunders

At the San Sebastian Film Festival in end-September, Albert Serra’s documentary “Afternoons of Solitude” (Tardes de Soledad) triggered the largest wave of audience walkouts at its premiere. In the first round of reviews that followed, I noticed a comment: “One must be open to being challenged by these images and to engaging in a non-trivial dialogue with them—which may perhaps be controversial, and even full of conflict.”

In “Ebert’s Bigger Little Movie Glossary”, a dry humorous book compiled by Pulitzer Prize-winning film critic Roger Ebert, there’s a funny column article contributed by Canadian journalist Doug Saunders, who teaches you that the term “challenging” is a euphemism for a film that you can’t stand at all. However, whether it was the mass audience exit or Saunders’s sarcastic use of the adjective, it doesn’t truly criticize “Afternoons of Solitude” for being unwatchable. Rather, it reflects that the film’s indeed challenging in another sense—Serra’s images are too direct, too real, and too bloody, seriously offending those who respect animal life or can’t bear to see brutal scenes. Personally, I really enjoyed this brutal documentary, and in the end, it was awarded the San Sebastian Film Festival’s top prize, the Golden Shell. Half a month ago, I also published a review on this platform, “‘Afternoons of Solitude’: Golden Shell Winner So Bloody It’s IMAX-Worthy”. I didn’t use any film criticism jargon like “challenging,” though.

Film criticism jargon often appears during the promotional tours of new films or on the official websites of small-scale film festivals that can’t secure premiere slots. Occasionally, you’ll find it in the early reviews of controversial or puzzling films that screen at major film festivals.

When a new film that may not fare well with critics needs some positive words before its official release—but can’t be too overtly praised—ambiguous phrases come in handy. Similarly, small-scale film festivals must prepare a few vague reviews, beyond just plot summaries, of the niche arthouse films they showcase to attract viewers. In the case of “Afternoons of Solitude,” which is genuinely challenging to watch and review immediately after, the safest strategy is still to use ambiguous film criticism jargon.

Saunders’s glossary offers interpretations of quite a few film promotion jargon. For instance, dull films are described as “rigorous”; “unabashed” is used to refer to shameless stupidity; stories that date back a very long time are regarded as “epic”; “provocative” movies contain abundant sex scenes; “gritty” translates to underexposure; “ambiguous” means inadequate lighting; “transgressive” implies that all characters are gay. Frequent film festival goers would burst out laughing at these entries. They’re ambiguous enough yet undoubtedly clichéd. Saunders himself probably complains about this jargon while willingly enduring it at the same time.

I’ve also fallen for such jargon in film promotions before. Late last year, I attended a documentary festival in Shenzhen, China, where a Brazilian film “Bringing the Voice” was showing. I happened to be in the mood for a Brazilian film, and the promotional word “saudade” caught my eye. With my limited knowledge of Portuguese Fado music, I immediately expected the film to be about music. The word “voice” in the title further cemented this belief. But I didn’t read the entire sentence in the review carefully: “Klaudia (the protagonist) explores ways to deal with her many emotions; from anger and pain, to love and longing, all encompassed by the Portuguese word ‘saudade’.” As a result, I found the viewing experience unbearable and left the theatre after 40 minutes. As a carefree and dispassionate person, I absolutely can’t tolerate any diary entry-style films where the protagonist records personal footage of her complaining about her emotions, let alone thoughts related to her mind, body and soul or her inner voice. It wasn’t until I saw Saunders’s sarcastic glossary that I realized the review for “Bringing the Voice” essentially described it as a mood piece. And the real meaning behind that entry? The film has no plot!

Of course, everyone has their own preferences. While I’m deeply averse to spiritual visual diaries, there are surely audiences who can fully resonate with and be moved by them.

In fact, compared to the curatorial and critical language aimed at elite audiences in contemporary art, jargon used in mass-market film promotions is no longer as incomprehensible. However, even elite artists occasionally reflect on and continuously satirize the coded diction of the art-world, the kind of language where you recognize every word but can’t understand anything when they’re strung together. New York artist Bill Claps created a 16-minute short documentary titled “Artspeak,” in which he muses, “The language used in the art world is actually a code, a distinct dialect that only circulates within the art community.” Examples of this jargon include phrases like “certain generative metaphors” and “enduring conundrum.”

In an article titled “10 New Words to Fake It in the Art World,” author Gina Fairley observes that curators and critics have a particular fondness for words that begin with the letter “o,” such as ontology and objectification, and those ending with the suffix “-ality,” like spatiality and visuality, all of which seem to convey an air of highbrow elitism.

A friend of mine, who’s studying contemporary art curation in New York, once candidly admitted, “Without these words, how are we supposed to make a living?” Of course, I fully understand that every discipline has its specific jargon to maintain discussions at a certain standard and foster the field’s development. I was reminded of a show whose title I can’t exactly recall. In the show, the roommate of a college student struggling with his contemporary art paper who stays in the same rented apartment recommends the Instant Art Critique Phrase Generator to him. In the current age of AI-assisted writing, his research can be made easier using such tools.

Back to the film world; perhaps because I’m constantly traveling between film festivals, my inbox often gets flooded with emails from PR companies. Their job is to promote niche films, and alongside the usual plot summaries, creator bios, and upcoming theatrical or streaming release dates, there are always a few lines of praises. Although I could reply to these emails and, under a confidentiality agreement, get access to screener links well ahead of the release, I tend to be cautious about requesting them. First, there are simply too many new films being released every day, not to mention all the older films I haven’t seen—I could never catch up. Second, if the PR team sends me a link and I end up not liking the film, it feels awkward to criticize it (after all, they’re giving me the perk of an early screening). What then?

Just now, two films arrived in my inbox. One is a 20th-anniversary re-release, with the review stating: “A cinematic marvel that demands captivation and will never relent to your expectations. A true ‘what-the-f*ck-did-I-just-watch’ experience.” Is this some kind of reverse promotion? Is it using seemingly critical language to hook people into watching? The other is a new film that just premiered at a major North American festival. Its review reads: “[It] playfully reckons with feelings of grief, conflict, and loss of control, [is] beneath grainy Super-8 home movies, [and] unearths difficult truths as an act of intergenerational healing.” I won’t name the films—what if they’re actually great and I shouldn’t be mocking them?

After all, Saunders never taught me how to decode the terms “captivation,” “playful,” or “grainy.”