The critic

There are few 
notable film performances 
in film history. True, there 
was that one guy or gal (you 
decide) in that one where
all that shit happened, with
the themes. But mostly we 
get actors haplessly botching  
bad lines, unraveling in front 
of increasingly CGI backgrounds. 
Literature is no different. No matter 
how I cast those movies mentally, 
performances are wooden, and strike 
symphonies of false notes from subpar 
materials. Art has had nothing of note 
since modernism, which itself was a 
fever dream fiesta of so called master 
pieces looking at least half like crap 
all the time. Prior to modernism: a 
lot of artificially lit sunsets and 
boring studies. Nature pictures 
and posed myth - clearly an
excuse to pander to the public's 
thirst for snob-approved nudity. 
I wonder what those snobs would 
think of today's porn! I find it 
listless. Uninspired, penetrated 
and shot through with unreal 
touches, concocted and derived. 
Only now and then do we see 
a real, winning performance 
that moves us.