Kael was often accused of watching for plot and character more than for
technical craft, and it is not hard to see why. Plot and character
communicate effortlessly across time. The finer points of cinematic
grammar require cultural education to be appreciated. She cared about
audiences' raw responses--amazement, laughter, recognition--because those
responses indicated whether a movie could speak for itself in the long
run. She was dowsing for film classics with her nervous system as a guide.
-- Nathan Heller. "What She Said: The doings and undoings of Pauline Kael"
New Yorker, October 24, 2011.
Kael fell in love with writing about movies, because, unlike every other
creative form at the time, they had no "tradition" from the audience's
point of view. No movie canon was included in high-school reading lists;
there was no time-tested consensus about which efforts were works of art
and which were not. This under-construction aspect of the form excited
her. In a 1965 lecture, she explained, "We were--and I am, of course, only
guessing about you--driven to the movies as a compensatory necessity--a
flight, and I don't mean a mere escape, to a world more exciting than the
deadening world of trying-to-be-helpful teachers and chewed-over texts. We
were driven to it by our own energies, which were not sufficiently
engaged, not imaginatively used in the rest of our lives." It's a concept
of movies as all good things at once--beguiling, unself-conscious
entertainment and the recourse of brilliant kids far too smart for school.
And it let Kael think about moviemaking as a craft that could perform
seemingly irreconcilable tasks: plying the artistic vanguard while
providing unforced popular entertainment.
-- Nathan Heller. "What She Said: The doings and undoings of Pauline Kael"
New Yorker, October 24, 2011.