Art may not be relative, but tastes certainly are

I have a good friend who is carrying on his own vendetta against Oregonian film critic Shawn Levy. He’s still miffed at a review that Levy wrote of “Pirate Radio” way back on Nov. 12, 2009. The title of Levy’s review says it all: ” ‘Pirate Radio’ should be made to walk the plank.” Ouch. So now my pal has purchased his own copy of the film and is happy as a marmot in a tub of margarine. But he still thinks that Levy is a jerk. And maybe he’s right. I’ve never met Levy. But let me just say this, as a fellow critic, in Levy’s defense: He has a right to voice his opinion. Just as my friend, whom I have known for 35 years, has a right to disagree. It happens to all of us. Most recently, the movie that has put me at odds with a number of movie fans is Terence Malick’s “Tree of Life.” To me, it’s one of the most ambitious stabs at cinematic art I’ve ever seen — and I’ve been watching movies since the 1950s. To some fans, though, it’s a numbing meditation that indulges in, of all things, dinosaurs. Ah, well, whatever works. To every movie fan, there is a “Pirate Radio.” Or a “Tree of Life.” Or, for that matter, a “Twilight: Breaking Dawn.” It all depends on what you want. You’ll notice that I’m not saying all films are equal. They aren’t. Still, anybody who refuses someone else his or her joy — even if that joy includes a Stephenie novel — should be, I don’t know, maybe made to walk a plank?