I like Eli Roth. He's very entertaining in interviews, and his movies are a lot of fun -- although I didn't think Hostel: Part 2 was half the wonderfully disgusting blast that the original was. I also like Richard Roeper. I don't find him to be a particularly insightful or mind-blowing film critic, but he's a likable and funny man, and he's held up Not Siskel and Not Ebert a lot better than I expected him to in Ebert's unfortunate absence. My appreciation of both men makes it difficult for me to choose sides in today's "Minor Celebrity Feud of the Day." In a recent interview, Eli Roth expressed annoyance that critics won't admit to liking his movies. Sayeth Roth: "Someone told me in Chicago last night that they sat next to Richard Roeper during the screening of Cabin Fever, and he was jumping, screaming, squealing, and going crazy during the whole movie. He then trashed it in his review. I think that's just how it is with a lot of these critics. They almost feel guilty giving it a positive review."

Not so, sayeth Roeper, who was appalled at the suggestion, writing: "Dear Mr. Roth: Someone is lying to you. The only time I have ever jumped, screamed and squealed at a screening was when Dann Gire came in late and accidentally sat on my lap. But that's another story. Honestly, though, if Cabin Fever had me going crazy, I would have given it a thumbs up, or even the "severed thumbs up" I once gave to The Devil's Rejects. I would never finesse my reaction to a film out of some bull&!#@ concern that it wouldn't mirror the conventional critical wisdom or be politically correct." We're taking both men at their word here, but I've seen Roeper give positive reviews to some widely hated movies in the past. Like Ebert, he's not an elitist critic, so I'm tempted to give him the benefit of the doubt here. However, I do wonder how many (obviously weak) critics gush praise all over highly regarded films just because they don't want to seem out of touch. Or how many critics laugh their heads off at dumb comedies only to trash them in their reviews. I sat next to a pretty reputable critic at a screening for Memoirs of a Geisha, and he fell asleep at several points in the film, snoring loudly each time. His review of the film? Positive.

Should a movie review include references to gossip or buzz surrounding the celebrities or filmmakers involved with that movie? That's the issue that the Alliance of Women Film Journalists (AWFJ) is pondering this week on the AWFJ blog. For example, a number of Georgia Rule reviews have included sly mentions of co-star Lindsay Lohan's personal life, or reminders about the rumors about her behavior on the set of that film. AWFJ isn't only considering salacious gossip, though, but also discussing whether references to the late actress/director Adrienne Shelly's life (and death) are appropriate when reviewing Waitress.

The film critics and journalists responding on the AWFJ site have a variety of opinions that are well worth reading. Some reviewers note that Waitress may be receiving "softball" reviews because critics have been influenced by their feelings about Shelly's tragic death. The AWFJ members are more divided on whether it's appropriate to mention gossip about Lohan -- some feel that comparisons can be drawn between the actress and the character she plays. I'd argue that even though we are surely affected by rumors or news about a cast or crew member, and that it is impossible to be unbiased, we should at least try to be as fair as we can. Rehashing celebrity gossip seems to decrease the perception of fairness in the eyes of readers -- sometimes it even seems like a cheap shot.

So what do you think? Does it bother you to read celebrity gossip, news or buzz in a movie review, or does that add welcome spice and entertainment to the piece? AWFJ doesn't have space for comments on their blog, but Cinematical does ... so feel free to share your thoughts about this issue here.

The divide between critics and audiences has been growing stronger and stronger. This very site has done several reports of late about how studios and directors think critics are snooty, snobby, and out of touch with what the public wants. It seems more and more movies are not even being shown to critics prior to release. That practice used to be reserved solely for the worst of the worst, but now big-budget movies with big stars aren't being submitted for review. In light of recent evidence, critics' opinions don't really seem to have any effect on business at all. These past few months have made for some shocking revelations come Monday morning box office report time, with such critically panned movies as 300, Norbit, Ghost Rider, and Wild Hogs all doing huge business.

Now Peter Bart at Variety has chimed in with a new article on the subject. He says that critics "may be shopping around for a new line of work," and states that they "should consider a sabbatical until September, when movies aimed at their quadrant magically reappear." Huh? Bart suggests, "if the established media wants to stay relevant, should their critics make a passing attempt to tune in to pop culture?" Well, what does that mean exactly? Does that mean hiring a quote whore to just write about how he or she adores every steaming pile that comes down the chute? Why should critics' tastes have to sync up with what makes money? To me, reading a great film review is like having a conversation after the movie. It's a kick to read an in-depth analysis of something I just saw, whether the reviewer agrees with me or not.

This whole debate has gotten out of hand. Audience poller Cinemascore reports that all four of the aforementioned movies were not just successful financially, but at least reasonably enjoyed by audiences. Is anyone who laughs at Wild Hogs an uneducated hillbilly idiot? Of course not. Does Norbit's success mean that all critics are dumb and should quit their jobs because they personally didn't like it? No way. The old "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" rule doesn't, shouldn't, and can't apply to film criticism.

The news is bad: Time to shoot the messengers again. Patrick Goldstein's column in today's Los Angeles Times goes over the usual charges of critical irrelevance, IPods versus daily papers, the three percent share newspaper critics get of the youth audience ... you know the drill. Goldstein quotes Sony Corporation Chief Howard Stringer as having once " ... merrily quipped, 'Nobody ever built a statue to a critic.' " Feel like you've read this quote before? You have, if you've got a computer. These discerning cineastes defending Miami Vice claim it was Leonard Bernstein. And this list of catchphrases meant to encourage the amateur painter says the quote is from dancer Martha Graham.

This summer, in one of the many critics-are-doomed articles I've read, I even saw it attributed to Robert Duvall. The actual quote seems to be by Jean Sibelius: "Pay no attention to what critics say. No statue has ever been put up to a critic." Over here is a variation on the Sibelius quote. Now, if you're an ace composer and stormy figure of Finnish nationalism like Jean Sibelius, you might deserve a bust in a park. But do you deserve a statue for being the artist behind, say, From Justin to Kelly? IMHO, the Hollywood version of the phrase ought to be, "nobody ever gave a statue to a critic" -- the phrase being short-hand for Oscar. Well, they should have given one to James Agee, but he only got nominated.

And yet here it is, at last: A statue of a critic. And, here's another one: Saint-Beauve, whom the Oxford Book of Quotations credits with creating the phrase "ivory tower," in which all us critics supposedly dwell. (Though most of these 'towers' look more like Miles' musty apartment in Sideways.) Considering these two bona-fide statues, can we never hear this cliche again, already? Incidentally, the great John Ruskin was a gifted and prolific writer about art during the Victorian era, though many of us have never seen more of Ruskin's oeuvre than the cautionary plaque in Baskin Robbins quoting him. And now that turns out not to be Ruskin, after all. That famous plaque may be a rare sight in the ice-cream parlors, sure, but no one can take away the conclusive, irrevocable proof that someone, somewhere, somewhen put up a statue to a critic.