The philosopher Johnny Rotten once observed that it is easier to destroy than create. This is particularly true when it comes to reviewing. It is far easier to write a negative review than a positive one. And to most people the more negative a critic, the better regarded his opinions. Writers like Randall Jarrell, James Wolcott and Bruce Bawer gained huge reputations as masters of the takedown. Besides, very little art is perfect, and a large part of a critic's job is to offer readers an honest evaluation that draws subtle and sharp distinctions.
Even our best critics can be wrong, too. Reviewing is, after all, an art of informed opinion. This can be painful all around for those who create the object of a critic's attention--and for the critic. This is especially true in a town as small as Las Vegas in very personal ways.
In his Weekly blog, journalist Steve Friess reported on a confrontation between former Harrah's headliner Clint Holmes and Review-Journal theater critic Anthony Del Valle. Holmes approached Del Valle and called him out over the critic's review of Holmes's musical Just Another Man. I agree with Friess that Holmes was out of line to go up to Del Valle in public and reproach him for delivering an honest opinion to his readers. (Holmes declined to speak with me about the situation.) Regardless, Holmes is not a threatening character and did no threatening. By Friess account, this was more a very disagreeable situation that Del Valle shouldn't have been forced to deal with just for doing his job (and especially while going about his daily life).
But it caused me to go back and reread Del Valle's review. Sometimes a review can say more about the reviewer than what's being reviewed. Two of my favorite critics (Guy Davenport and William Gass) often do this on purpose. On sadder occasions, that reality comes from reading between the lines. In the case of Del Valle's review, a sentence near the end leaped out at me: "Just Another Man shows no evidence of being a legitimate theatre piece."
But what evidence is required? There is a radical conservatism betrayed in this sentence that reminds one of the audiences who booed at the premiere of the ballet Rite of Spring or Bob Dylan's electric debut at the Newport Folk Festival. Not legitimate dance? Not legitimate music? This is a sentence meant to kill, not critique. It is the lament of a threatened conservative. Particularly in theater--you have to wonder why Del Valle would write that in a universe where Samuel Beckett's Breathe was accepted as legitimate theater back in 1969. (Breathe, coincidentally was also an early title for Holmes musical.) Beckett's version lasts 25 seconds, features a baby cry, some trash and was written on a postcard. If the avant-garde has had one success, it is in undermining the concept of legitimacy.
But here is the thing: Just Another Man is not in any way an experimental work; this is a long way from Beckett. Just Another Man is a traditional dramatic musical. In fact, it is so traditional that even Del Valle's review is riddled with complaints about "cliche" and "predictable." So, why does this review wind up going beyond evaluating the quality of Just Another Man to conclude that, of all the theater in Vegas, this particular one offering has failed some undefined legitimacy test?
The answer to that question may lie in the question Del Valle concludes his review with: "Is showbiz really worth all this angst?" The answer implied by his review is a resounding no. But that is a ridiculous question. Is tennis worth angst? How about marriage? How can any topic be verboten to theater? I guess the better question is, did Just Another Man justify the angst? Del Valle doesn't think so, and that is his right. But his review goes further and leaves him sounding like a dog marking turf. Vegas is a small town. And Del Valle's review really seems to be saying to Holmes, stick to your own side of the Strip. If that is the message, Del Valle is the one coming out of this looking provincial.