This is true. Getting consistent traffic to a blog that doesn’t cover Iron Man and Judd Apatow’s latest comedy opus has proven difficult. I’ve only been at this for a few months, and unfortunately I don’t live in NYC or LA so my access to the latest art-house fare is limited.

I have no illusions that I’ll earn
any significant income, but if I can get a few people to take notice of what I believe are worthy films then I’ll be satisfied. Film criticism just doesn’t pay. The most I ever earned as a freelancer was $50 a review for a mid-sized newspaper.

I agree, online ads are a joke. Unless you have an established number of readers numbering into at least the thousands, Google Ads, etc. are worthless.

My philosophy: write about movies because you love it. If something comes of it, consider yourself lucky.

Two words though–college connections. As more and more arts journalism will have to be grant funded, those two words, outside Spout’s pretty incredible & alternative model, are my answers.

One of the weird things out there is the notion that “blogging” is a specific thing. The term “blogging” really just means using blog software. If you want to put up thoughtful, introspective pieces on film, start your own blog, put some Google Adsense ads and whatever revenue generating streams in and try to make a couple bucks on your own.

“Blogging” doesn’t mean you have to keep up with the news, e.g. as Spout does. My blog shouldn’t be any kind of example — as Karina says, heralding small films isn’t a big traffic generator — but I think there is a place for essay length commentary on films. It might take awhile for cash to come rolling in, but if you got the freelance work to keep you going, then there’s no reason that a blog on the side couldn’t eventually generate extra income.

And if it never does and the blog ends up taking too much time, then you just do an “I’m out” post and people will forgive you.

Ebert started on the Sun-Times features desk, my pal Rene Rodriguez was answering phones in the Miami Herald’s subscriptions department when the position opened. There are others — lucky ones — like Owen Gleiberman and Paul Schrader who made strategic friendships with Pauline Kael back in college and let her persuade their first employers.

But it’s always been a case of there being a finite number of positions, which meant waiting for a crusty old white guy to die or retire if we youngsters ever hoped to do this for a living. After more than 10 years of trying to work my way in, I still consider film criticism a sideline. Last year was grim, in that two of the outlets for which I was regularly freelancing (the Miami Herald and the Fort Worth Star-Telegram) cut their freelance budgets, while a third (that would be Premiere) folded and went online-only.

Much of the writing I was doing (including more than 100 “pro bono” Premiere.com reviews) amounted to volunteer work intended to pay off with a print gig. It did. I wouldn’t be at Variety without it, but it’s astonishing that things have come to this. I’m encouraged by sites like Spout that have created alternative forums for intelligent film criticism.

The unfortunate trade-off of blogging is that the exercise demands its contributors fill a bottomless hole, being “on” all the time and proactively scouring the web and responding to every little thing as quickly as possible. Because so little of the content amounts to original reporting (Spout’s SXSW coverage was one exception, as are many of The Reeler’s Gotham-specific posts and Nikki Finke’s tireless — and tiringly self-promotional — industry coverage), there’s little but personality to separate one blog from another.

And isn’t that the problem facing film critics? I view the rolling back of print gigs as an effort by newspapers to reduce REDUNDANCY: If movies open day-and-date in all markets, and if readers can access the reviews from countless other outlets on opening day online (and earlier, if you count test screening reports and other forms of amateur, unembargoed film criticism), why pay someone to do it in print?

This is a blessing and a curse. The film critics with whom I’m friendly are among the unhappiest people I know, constantly complaining about having to sit through every Hollywood film as their taste grows more and more refined — a complaint I’ve never had much patience for, since I would’ve killed to be in their positions. But maybe it’s time that criticism evolved into something more than the same bored and boring responses to every release under the sun.

Sure, we’ll always need SOMEONE to do that for us (thankfully, Variety insists on providing that service), but all those great Pauline Kael essays everyone holds as the gold standard of film criticism were greatest when they analyzed trends, directors or multiple films within a single piece. The energy required by blogging (or maintaining a fulltime job that allows you the luxury of reviewing films on the side, as I do) robs us of the opportunity to sit back, consider things thoughtfully and write the kind of paradigm-changing analyses that seem possible in a time when media literacy seems to be a common currency among our readers. Attempting to do more of that is the 2008 resolution I’ve made to myself, although the question remains: Where the hell can I print/post such pieces — and is there a chance in hell someone would pay me for my time?