Mr. Farber has been killed by a scrunt: 17 films and TV shows that turn the tables on critics

1. Tom Friend, Masked And Anonymous (2003)
Bob Dylan made his feelings about journalists abundantly clear in the 1967 documentary Don’t Look Back, which showed him treating dimwitted reporters earnestly asking him about the importance of protest songs with the kindness of a windshield greeting a mosquito. Dylan co-wrote and stars in 2003’s extremely muddled yet humorously insightful Masked And Anonymous, which a contains a depiction of a debauched rock journalist nearly as vicious as anything in Don’t Look Back. Tom Friend, played by a very un-Dude Jeff Bridges, is dispatched to cover a benefit concert performed by aging rocker Jack Fate (played by Dylan), but instead of interviewing the artist, he lectures him on his many failures over the years. From Dylan’s perspective, people like Friend saw their ’60s dreams fade away like so much pot smoke, and instead of taking stock of their own lives, they blamed him, a mere singer who never asked to be “important.” No doubt feeling vengeful over the countless writers who have taken him to task over the years, Dylan [spoiler alert!] makes sure Friend is killed off in shockingly gruesome fashion… with a busted guitar, no less.
2. Statler and Waldorf, The Muppet Show
While the Muppets were having fun with their forward-thinking variety show—not hurting anybody, mind you—a pair of crotchety old hecklers, Statler and Waldorf, sat in the balcony, raining down zingers on the performers, particularly the gormless Fozzie Bear. And while they weren’t explicitly identified as critics, it was pretty clear that the duo was inspired by the stuffy, smarter-than-thou critical community. To its great credit, The Muppet Show allowed its chief fault-finders to be hilariously funny and even biting: “What’s wrong with you?” “It’s either this show or indigestion. I hope it’s indigestion—it’ll get better in a little while.” And let’s face it: Fozzie was a terrible stand-up. If only we could convince Statler and Waldorf to critique Jay Leno.
3. General Kael, Willow (1988)
Over her two-decade-plus run at The New Yorker, no critic was more influential or more polarizing than Pauline Kael, who included George Lucas among the sacred cows she led to the slaughter. With his misbegotten fantasy opus Willow, Lucas and director Ron Howard tried to take revenge through a character named “General Kael,” leader of an army dispatched by the evil Queen Bavmorda to destroy an infant prophesied to kill her. By Kael’s own description in her unkind review of Willow, this “hommage d’moi” is a “Darth Vader-like giant in a death’s head mask.” She goes on to speculate that Lucas’ costly divorce might account for the film’s dim depiction of women in power, and writes that the climax leaves viewers “too embarrassed for the filmmakers to feel any suspense.” As a critic-bashing bonus, Lucas also introduces “Eborsisk,” a gnarly, two-headed, fire-breathing dragon that terrorizes a village.
4. The Erotic Connoisseur, The Girlfriend Experience (2009)
For this film about a high-priced call girl operating in today’s shrinking economy, Steven Soderbergh aimed for maximum verisimilitude. That extended to the casting of porn star Sasha Grey in the lead role and former Premiere editor Glenn Kenny as a powerful Internet source for escort reviews, The Erotic Connoisseur. As played by Kenny with what might be called “oily charm,” if there’s any charm in it, the critic acts as a lecherous, unscrupulous cretin who expects a free sample in return for a good review. (He also dwells in a warehouse with Texas Chain Saw Massacre-like metal doors, and he clearly hasn’t showered for days, which makes the prospect extra-icky.) After Grey slinks away from the casting couch, Kenny logs a review so choked with gratuitous cruelty that it threatens her livelihood. Critics: vindictive and compromised.
5. Homer Simpson, The Simpsons: “Guess Who’s Coming To Criticize Dinner?” (1999)
When Homer Simpson becomes the new food critic for the Springfield Shopper, two obvious problems come to mind: 1. He’s about as literate as an underachieving fourth-grader. 2. He likes everything he eats, and hands out raves to everything but a slice of pizza he found under the couch. (“It lost points because it had a Hot Wheel on it.”) He solves the first problem by having Lisa translate his inarticulate ramblings into caressing prose, but the second proves to be a stickier issue, partly because Springfieldians are getting fat off his recommendations, and partly because his unrelenting positivity is making the other critics look bad. Homer being Homer, he takes a sharp turn in the other direction, filing bon-mot-filled nasty reviews of local restaurants and even turning up his nose at Marge’s pork chops, which he gives his lowest rating, “seven thumbs up.” By the end, Homer isn’t comfortable with the arbitrary viciousness that comes with the trade.
6. Mayor Ebert and Gene, Godzilla (1998)
In response to Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert’s unkind reviews of their earlier films Stargate and Independence Day, producer Dean Devlin and director Roland Emmerich issued what Siskel called a “petty” response in their 1998 debacle Godzilla. In the film, the sweets-noshing Mayor Ebert is campaigning for re-election under the slogan “Thumbs Up For New York!” Like any sleazy politician, he’s all-too-happy to seize upon mass disaster (like, say, a monster rampaging through the city) for electoral gain. (His campaign adviser, Gene, doesn’t approve.) Like just about every other critic in the country, the real Siskel and Ebert gave a thumbs-down to Godzilla on the show and in print. In his review, Ebert professed that he didn’t feel zinged: “They let us off lightly. I fully expected to be squished like a bug by Godzilla.”
7. Ellsworth M. Toohey, The Fountainhead (1949)
Ayn Rand didn’t so much create characters as invent mouthpieces for ideological positions, which is why no one in her books behaves even remotely like a real human. Witness Ellsworth M. Toohey, the architectural critic of the Banner newspaper in The Fountainhead, the 1949 movie version of her novel, with a screenplay by Rand herself. Toohey is meant to be not only an example of the kind of commie collectivism that Rand despises; he’s also a stand-in for the critics who consistently savaged her books. He’s the least believable character imaginable, openly speaking of his contempt for the masses and his intention to destroy the excellence of true achievers like Howard Roark (played by Gary Cooper) for the sake of his collectivist philosophy. Yet audiences are also asked to believe that he—an architecture critic!—is the most popular, beloved columnist in New York. On top of it all, Robert Douglas plays Toohey with a not-so-subtle implication of homosexuality. Both as a representation of Rand’s socialist bogeymen and an embodiment of her critics, he’s a perfectly ludicrous cartoon.
8. Rex Reed, Lost In America (1985)
Albert Brooks opens Lost In America with a stealthy three-minute tracking shot through a moonlit house—turn down the volume, and you could almost mistake it for ominous. On the soundtrack, however, serving as mocking counterpoint, is a radio broadcast in which Larry King gamely attempts to plumb “the modus operandi of Rex Reed,” who was at that time a film critic for the New York Post. (He’s since moved to the New York Observer.) This brief interview snippet has no bearing whatsoever on the film’s narrative; rather, it feels like a pre-emptive strike against those critics who insist that Brooks’ curdled portraits of runaway narcissism simply aren’t funny, with Brooks passive-aggressively wielding a representative critic’s own words against him. It works, too: When Reed insists that he prefers to see even a raucous comedy all by himself in a sterile screening room at 10 a.m. (“If it’s really funny, I’ll laugh… I don’t respond very well to mass hysteria anyway”), he succeeds in making the entire profession seem joyless and anti-human, even more hopelessly lost than the film’s protagonists. (Reed does have some nice words for one movie, however: The Fountainhead.)