Andrew Sarris was many things. He was the most important film critic in history. He was also a thoroughly decent man, who had a successful life on every level.
And: He was a New York liberal. He should have taken a pass on this review because he was too triggered, by multiple things, to write anything coherent.
I don't want to hold MANDINGO up as a masterpiece, or as something that is nourishing as a matter of culture or morality. But the film did have a first-rate director, and first-rate critics in the UK thought it was one of the best films of its year. It's hardly the first worthwhile movie to have exploitation elements. Sarris tolerates those elements elsewhere, and even celebrates them. He wrote a famous rave review of PSYCHO, and he was savaged for it. He loved all of those French films about prostitutes, and he was respectful, at least, of wild content from Michael Powell (PEEPING TOM) and Sam Fuller (THE NAKED KISS, SHOCK CORRIDOR). (There are at least a hundred other examples.)
Indeed--if we go back to the 1960s, the main criticism of Sarris was that he was far too accepting of obvious "trash" like THE BIRDS (Hitchcock), TOUCH OF EVIL (Welles), DONOVAN'S REEF (Ford), and everything ever made by Edgar G. Ulmer. Sarris put GUNN (Edwards) and MADIGAN (Siegel) on his top ten lists. For this, scorn was heaped down upon him, from the likes of John Simon, Judith Crist, and Pauline Kael, who were far more popular film critics in America at the time than Sarris would ever be.
Every aesthete has his breaking point, though, and for Sarris it came in the form of contemporary films that were explicitly marketed to a general audience (i.e., black and white) that contained unironic racial and sexual exploitation elements. So, Sarris hated MANDINGO. He also hated all of Russ Meyer, and he even hated TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, which struck him as pandering (and I think he's right about that). But he was OK with THE BIRTH OF A NATION (1915), because he understood context, and I think Sarris was right about that too.
We should remember that Sarris put a blaxploitation film, SUPERFLY, on one of his annual top-ten lists, and he never had much to say, pro or con, about the blaxploitation films of the 1970s, which were at least as racially and sexually exploitative as MANDINGO, in every "offensive" way imaginable. The blaxploitation films were produced, written, and directed by blacks and whites, and back in the '70s nobody cared much about that and nobody was keeping score. The films had large black inner-city audiences, but white people went to see them in large numbers too. So why didn't Sarris pick on them?
It's because they were presented as "black" films, with obvious marketing to blacks. They were a niche product, not "prestige" films for a general audience, like MANDINGO. So Sarris left them alone. He didn't want to scold blacks; he figured they'd suffered enough.
A film is a film. Marketing is irrelevant, and Sarris should have followed his instincts and passed on MANDINGO. His column is more of a primal scream than a film review.
We should finally note that back in 1968, in "The American Cinema," Sarris had given MANDINGO's director, Richard Fleischer, the back of his hand. Fleischer was consigned to the "Strained Seriousness" category, which was a level of Hell reserved for uninspired directors who weren't quite important enough to make the cut for "Less Than Meets the Eye." Fleischer had undeniable talent, and it was obvious right from the start with his B noir films in the late '40s and early '50s. But talent was never the key for Sarris. To be important, a director had to have some weight, some personal style. He had to be an artist, not just a contractor. So when viewed through the auteur lens, Sarris's pan of MANDINGO makes sense. If only he'd written his review that way.
Andrew Sarris was many things. He was the most important film critic in history. He was also a thoroughly decent man, who had a successful life on every level.
And: He was a New York liberal. He should have taken a pass on this review because he was too triggered, by multiple things, to write anything coherent.
I don't want to hold MANDINGO up as a masterpiece, or as something that is nourishing as a matter of culture or morality. But the film did have a first-rate director, and first-rate critics in the UK thought it was one of the best films of its year. It's hardly the first worthwhile movie to have exploitation elements. Sarris tolerates those elements elsewhere, and even celebrates them. He wrote a famous rave review of PSYCHO, and he was savaged for it. He loved all of those French films about prostitutes, and he was respectful, at least, of wild content from Michael Powell (PEEPING TOM) and Sam Fuller (THE NAKED KISS, SHOCK CORRIDOR). (There are at least a hundred other examples.)
Indeed--if we go back to the 1960s, the main criticism of Sarris was that he was far too accepting of obvious "trash" like THE BIRDS (Hitchcock), TOUCH OF EVIL (Welles), DONOVAN'S REEF (Ford), and everything ever made by Edgar G. Ulmer. Sarris put GUNN (Edwards) and MADIGAN (Siegel) on his top ten lists. For this, scorn was heaped down upon him, from the likes of John Simon, Judith Crist, and Pauline Kael, who were far more popular film critics in America at the time than Sarris would ever be.
Every aesthete has his breaking point, though, and for Sarris it came in the form of contemporary films that were explicitly marketed to a general audience (i.e., black and white) that contained unironic racial and sexual exploitation elements. So, Sarris hated MANDINGO. He also hated all of Russ Meyer, and he even hated TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, which struck him as pandering (and I think he's right about that). But he was OK with THE BIRTH OF A NATION (1915), because he understood context, and I think Sarris was right about that too.
We should remember that Sarris put a blaxploitation film, SUPERFLY, on one of his annual top-ten lists, and he never had much to say, pro or con, about the blaxploitation films of the 1970s, which were at least as racially and sexually exploitative as MANDINGO, in every "offensive" way imaginable. The blaxploitation films were produced, written, and directed by blacks and whites, and back in the '70s nobody cared much about that and nobody was keeping score. The films had large black inner-city audiences, but white people went to see them in large numbers too. So why didn't Sarris pick on them?
It's because they were presented as "black" films, with obvious marketing to blacks. They were a niche product, not "prestige" films for a general audience, like MANDINGO. So Sarris left them alone. He didn't want to scold blacks; he figured they'd suffered enough.
A film is a film. Marketing is irrelevant, and Sarris should have followed his instincts and passed on MANDINGO. His column is more of a primal scream than a film review.
We should finally note that back in 1968, in "The American Cinema," Sarris had given MANDINGO's director, Richard Fleischer, the back of his hand. Fleischer was consigned to the "Strained Seriousness" category, which was a level of Hell reserved for uninspired directors who weren't quite important enough to make the cut for "Less Than Meets the Eye." Fleischer had undeniable talent, and it was obvious right from the start with his B noir films in the late '40s and early '50s. But talent was never the key for Sarris. To be important, a director had to have some weight, some personal style. He had to be an artist, not just a contractor. So when viewed through the auteur lens, Sarris's pan of MANDINGO makes sense. If only he'd written his review that way.