a conundrum of our times: there’s no art to reflect them

The Village Voice, which I couldn’t do without at one time in my life—when the paper was the lifeblood of the political and arts and cultural scene in New York City—is (and has been) in deep financial peril. On life support is its famed movie section. The good news is that the great critic J. Hoberman is staying. The bad news is, as I said, that the paper is in deep peril. If you’re an old-time New Yorker mired in nostalgia, you can read about it here and weep (or not).

There’s something here for the rest of you, too. In the comments, former Voice critic Amy Taubin sums up the situation and makes a wish [emphasis mine]:

What I omitted from my brief remarks to you is that the importance of the Voice’s film section was a result of its placement for some 30 years within the paper’s larger progressive cultural and political discourse. That context, rather than individual film critics, made movies matter intellectually and creatively. …
J. Hoberman, in whose company I’m proud to have written for over 15 years, is a great critic, but there’s a limit to what he can do when reduced to 800 word pieces and in an atmosphere where ideas are viewed with contempt. … Instead of moaning about the demise of the Voice, it would better for us in the film and arts communities to figure out a way to convince one or two of its billioniares to bankroll a new publication that would take the measure of and be an inspiration to the times in which we now live.

David Ehrenstein responds with the awful truth:

But that would imply the existence of worthy films dealing with the times in which we live — and on that count the pickins’ are small.

Still I’m glad Jim’s staying in place.

Hear, hear. (And wasn’t I just saying the same thing earlier today?)