What makes a thing or person ‘the greatest’? How did we judge it to be “having the “most significant effects, importance, distinction” over all other similar items? With Muhammad Ali saying he was the greatest the proof was in all those other boxers stretched out on the canvas, but even then my uncles would say that Joe Louis in his prime…” You know the rest.
But despite their begrudgery of Ali (that doubtless stemmed from other non-boxing aspects of his life), they were judging him with a set of criteria: the quality of his opponents, the number of knockouts, speed, footwork. At that time before his troubles with government over being drafted, Muhammad Ali had 29 wins and no losses in the proring and a gold medal in the 1960 Rome Olympics. His quote — “I ain’t got no quarrel with no Viet Cong” — was famous because he was the greatest heavyweight boxer then, a judgement hard to dispute even by my uncles. My grandfather did root for him when Ali fought Henry Cooper, an Englishman, because being Irish he always rooted against the Brits, but that’s another story.
Whenever someone say a thing or person is the greatest or best, my question is according to what criteria. Thus when the New York Times pushed before my eyes yesterday their first installment of what they call the 100 best movies of the 21st century so far I reached for my metaphorical red pencil but resisted stabbing my screen. Best implies above good and the assertion should refer to some evidence for that commendation. As the OED notes from Old English to the present day when we go up the ladder as the old saying had it from good to best — ‘good, better, best, never let it rest; let the good be better and the better be best’ — we progress higher and higher according to some agreed sense of a quality “worthy of approval.”
These distinctions are measurements. And my survival and eventual thriving in the world of educational measurement depended upon understanding the mechanics and philosophy behind saying something or someone is the best or greatest especially when you lacked a measure such as a man unconscious ion a canvas to make obvious such a judgement. Being successful or even just accepted reluctantly as an outsider in the world of testing requires a disciplined informed approach to how you view everything and especially to how you articulate that view. In that world — as I experienced it being the Chief Learning Officer at Educational Testing Service (ETS) for over fifteen years and then a Knowledge Broker in its world leading Research and Development division for another three years — the inhabitants, the ones who are experts in measurement, are trained to find what is wrong with any statement. When I arrived there in 2001, a friendly guide told me that every question on some exams went through seven reviews and each reviewer took pride in trying to pluck out an error, a deviation from proper form. The same rigor (mania?) was applied to everything in that environment from the promulgation of new personnel policies to the announcement of rules for charity trivia contests. You had to explain your criteria, your “A test, principle, rule, canon, or standard” by which you were saying this is the best way to operate.
Such an atmosphere can prove daunting and even perilous to the career of anyone entering it without a sense of caution and the willingness to learn. My dictum to new recruits especially those who came to take on executive roles without a testing background was that ETS repels invaders and welcomes pilgrims. The invaders were the barbarians who fail to understand — or worse disdain — the culture of measurement. The pilgrims are the ones who seek to learn how things work and maintain a humility in recognizing that they will never rise to be more than a chorister in the cathedral of testing among the priest, bishops, and cardinals of that holy church. I was a pilgrim for all my days and nights in the then Vatican of educational testing, 666 Rosedale Road Princeton New Jersey.
That experience enriched but also marked me. Now any measurement purporting to tell what is best that then upon examination unfolds sloppily and erratically offends me. I became one of those people looking for the flaw in the format, the askew assumption, the arbitrary criteria.
If we want to say that something like a movie is the best or the greatest, then the principles of measurement ask us to start by describing what best or greatest would look like. In measurement terms, this is known as defining the construct. In other words, what are you measuring? What attributes if they are present would tell you that one of the items you are considering is better or worse than another item under consideration? What performances by the thing being measured — in this case a movie released between the beginning of this century and the present time— reveal this construct? And having decided these points, how will you score one movie against another? To paraphrase the late measurement pioneer, Sam Messick (ETS named a building after him), The nature of the construct being assessed should guide the selection or construction of relevant attributes and the rational development of construct-based scoring criteria and rubrics. A rubric is a scoring guide used to evaluate… Oh, right. TMI.
Nerdy? Annoying, right? Who cares that an immense amount of subjectivity enters into each of the lists provided by provided by “the hundreds of celebrities” polled? That’s how the NYT describes the voters, ‘celebrities’, not experts, not necessarily film makers in any sense of that term. Why should we bother with such a harmless display? Three reasons occur to me:
- As George W.S Trow wrote forty-five years ago in The Context of No Context, “Art requires a context: the power of this moment, the moment of the events in the foreground, seen against the accumulation of other moments. The moment in the foreground adheres to the accumulation or rejects it briefly before joining it” The failure to establish any criteria for the greatest movies continues this removal of context or rather substitutes the celebrity ‘like’ as the only context. Yes, this already exists, but why make it worse. Must you add to the already constant celebration of celebrity?
- The NYT is addicted to the ‘horse race sensibility’ and like all addicts would be most comfortable if all of us would join them in their addiction. If this movies example seems benign, consider the headline for tomorrow’s paper below.
- What the NYT says still matters and the opportunity to have richer conversation about what makes for a superb piece of cinematic art versus what makes for a popular one is lost here. As a subscriber for almost forty years and reader since fourth grade in Sister Noreen’s class taking in JFK’s election, I want the paper to do better.
It’s not an election to run the most important city in America; it’s a ‘jump ball’, a horse race, a fight. Whatever metaphor keeps us on the edge of our seats rather than looking at the actual issues that matter. (Did the last two NYC mayors possess the skills to do the job?)
What would my criteria be for a film to be considered one of the greatest in the 21st century thus far. I’m unqualified to say compared to Pedro Almodovar or Ava Duvernay or Bong Joon Ho (who did offer their picks to the NYT), but I am qualified to say that a list compiled without any stated criteria, subject to wildly different viewing patterns (has any of the voters seen one hundred films this quarter century), and based upon status as a celebrity is a muddled mishandled marred measurement. They could’ve asked AI as everyone seems to be doing these days and they would have gotten a list like this:
“a consensus among viewers, critics, and film historians often emerges, highlighting certain qualities that contribute to a film’s enduring impact and high regard.
Story and Narrative:
- Engaging and insightful story.
- Well-developed characters
- Strong narrative structure
- Meaningful themes
Filmmaking Craft:
- Technical excellence
- Creative synergy
- Compelling direction and performances
Cultural and Social Impact:
- Reflecting the times
- Enduring relevance
Audience Engagement:
- Suspending disbelief
- Emotional resonance
- Memorability.
And that would’ve explained the presence of Superbad on the list!
Yes, subjectivity affects such judgments; I’m NEVER going to vote for Superbad because I was an old fart already when that movie came out and grossness does not equate to “engaging and insightful” in my set of criteria. But I can tell you what my criteria are for films and other things as well like newspapers. The Times wants to be the greatest newspaper; but according to my criteria for such an entity accuracy and clarity count in such a judgement and with idiotic stunts like this one that DO sell newspapers the Gray Lady failed my exam yet again..
BTW I love Tom Bernard, a brilliant film executive whom I know glancingly who must be considered an expert but Money Ball?? Capote? I would love to know his criteria!
