Theater critics and a bullet-riddled corpse

The doctor offers prescriptions for balancing the critic and the art, when to run difficult pictures and what to do when the funny pages are no laughing matter

By Dr. Ink

Dr. Ink offers advice, serious and humorous, to editors on a full range of problems and issues, journalistic and managerial. Questions may be real or hypothetical, and may be rephrased to protect personal or institutional privacy. Send them to Ask Dr. Ink, ASNE, 11690B Sunrise Valley Drive, Reston, VA 20191.

Dear Dr. Ink: Our local theaters complain constantly that our drama critic is more interested in showing off than offering constructive criticism that educates audiences and actors. They say he is ruining their business. If I rein him in, I’ll become the villain. Is there a way to handle the egos of cantakerous critics who think they are God?

Answer: This type of critic most likely lacked the grades to get into medical school. Incapable of acquiring the godlike status of the physician, he found theater criticism to be the next best thing.

Medical school takes four years. Critic school takes four days. Each day you get to learn a new catch phrase:

Day One: “This play makes (blank) look like a Sunday school picnic.”

Day Two: “We’ve come to expect a lot more from (blank).”

Day Three: “But when it comes to (blank), that simply remains to be seen.”

Day Four: “The atonal acretions violate the integrity of the proscenium arch.”

Dr. Ink likes George Orwell’s metaphor: “Good writing is like a window pane.” If you notice the pane and not the world outside the window, something is wrong. In the same vein, if the reader notices too much of the pain (the critic), and not the value of the art, things are out of balance.

Dear Dr. Ink: Our paper ran the photo of the bullet-riddled body of a Palestinian boy killed in the fighting between the Israelis and the Palestinians. It was difficult to view, but we felt it captured the indiscriminate tragedy of the violence. We were hammered with complaints from readers. What do you think?

Answer: Some of our inhibitions are cultural. When Dr. Ink visited South America, he saw graphic and violent images in many newspapers, some that would make American papers look like, like… well, like a Sunday school picnic.

The doctor offers a fairly simple formula for thinking and talking: Does the photo advance the news? Is the news important enough to upset readers’ sensibilities? What are my alternatives? (Can I run it inside or smaller?) Would I run the photo if it were of a child in my own community? Am I prepared to defend my decision in public?

Dear Dr. Ink: The Doonesbury cartoon strip created a tizzy right before the election by featuring a cartoon claiming that George W. Bush had a “history of alcohol and cocaine abuse.” We ran the cartoon because we felt pulling it would only add to the controversy, and call attention to an unsupported accusation. Readers cried foul play. What do you think we should have done?

Answer: At first glance this looks like a lose-lose situation. If you pull the cartoon, you look like a censor — and you anger the cartoonist and his loyal fans.

If you run it, you look like an enabler for an irresponsible satirist who is out to get Bush.

There is, of course, a mystic third way. Take the objectionable strip and move it from the funny page to the non-funny page (editorials). Leave a blank space and note where the strip usually runs. On the editorial page, explain the move, and critique the cartoon.

Dear Dr. Ink: Now that you have been “discovered” by ASNE, what are your feelings about that organization? If you were running for president of ASNE, what would be your platform.

Answer: Dr. Ink’s ten ways to improve ASNE:

No more speeches by Ross Perot.

Put Stephen Covey in a lock box.

Introduce a work session on fuzzy math.

Merge with APME.

Ban white males from all ASNE committees.

No speeches by anyone named Stone.

Serve margaritas, chips and salsa at all convention sessions.

Make members wear bermuda shorts at all sessions.

Invite Little Richard as a luncheon speaker.

Move the headquarters from Reston to Las Vegas.