GoldbergBlog

Time to Grow Up

It’s been said that to do the same action and expect a different result is insanity.  I would assume that doing different actions and expecting the same result is insanity, but I guess the doctors know best*.  I would like to say that my repeated action was acting unprofessionally as a film journalist, but unlike the insane, I was fully aware of what I was doing.

I’ve hemmed and hawed about it for a while now.  It all started at my very first junket and Dustin Hoffman was there.  Dustin Hoffman is my favorite actor of all-time in my favorite movie of all-time (“The Graduate”) and knowing he would be there meant I had to get his autograph on my DVD copy of the movie.  I would have thrown him in a sack and taken him back home with me but I assumed that such behavior was frowned upon at junkets.  Also, Dustin might have a few objections.

I got his autograph and a lot of other autographs from various actors, writers, and directors for a long time.  The DVDs decorate my desk and the posters decorate my walls.  I didn’t do it with every star and I didn’t do it with everything I owned.  I even tried to get my friends autographs since they could go without ever meeting the actors, filmmakers, or showrunners they respected and adored.  And what was the harm?  You let a person know you’re a fan, you do it as they’re on the way out the door, and you might keep him or her at the table for a few seconds longer for an extra question.  What was the harm?  How could it be unprofessional?  It was unprofessional not to!  I certainly would never stoop so low as someone from the International Press who tries to take photos with a celebrity or anyone who gets an autograph and then turns around to sell it on eBay.  I was above that.  I was a professional and anyone who disagreed was just trying to force their values on others.

This past week, I learned how wrong I was.  You see, working out of Atlanta provided a distance from the day-to-day film journalism of Los Angeles.  I wasn’t a part of their world so I didn’t have to abide by their rules.  They get to do junkets every day so on the rare occasion when I get to go, why shouldn’t I get a little something extra?  Something that matters to me as a fan.  A fan.  Not a professional.  Why couldn’t I be both?  Well, I could, but not at an interview.  Maybe at a screening where fans were invited up for autographs (like the saints of DERRICK comedy who ran out of ink trying to sign every fan’s poster) or if I had the good fortune to bump into them just walking down the street.  But when it came to that roundtable in a room with various beverages on a table in the corner, no matter how well I tried to play it, no matter what excuses I thought I had, I was just wrong.

I met so many of my peers this past week both at Comic-Con and during an event in Toronto (one I’m going to extreme lengths not to say anything about for fear I will be banned from just about everything that’s worth anything).  They treated me with respect.  They had read my writing and I their’s and those journalists were no longer just bylines or Twitter profiles or Facebook pages.  They were in this for real and I could no longer just be the guy in Atlanta with the freedom to do or say anything he wanted.  And the positive e-mails I’ve recently received about my work only cemented that fact because if I’m not willing to grow up and be a professional, then I’m basically giving a giant middle finger to my peers and to my readers all for my precious, precious pride and so I can show off my treasures; for the privilege of what I have and not what I earned.

I’ve come to accept that, whether I like it or not, I’m what’s next.  That’s not to be arrogant**, but I accept that I’m significantly younger than most of the people working in my field.  That makes me feel great about what I’ve accomplished in such a short period of time, but it’s time for me to either start playing in the big leagues or get out of the game.  Meeting guys like Drew McWeeny and Garth Franklin, the legends who made the path by walking it in the mid-90s, a time when I still wasn’t allowed to even watch R-rated movies (not because of the MPAA rating but because my mom thought they would warp me for life; I can’t say she was wrong…), made me realize that I don’t know better than them and I should be learning from these guys (and gals–Jenna Busch of JoBlo and other outlets deserves crazy respect for what she’s accomplished in her short time writing professionally about entertainment) instead of being so sure of my opinions.   If a new wave of film journalists are rising online, then me and the rest of us youngins have to learn and respect those who came before.  We must listen to the elders (although I know they hate me calling them that but I mean it in the best sense of the word) because there are those, and I suppose there always will be, those overly-ambitious and amoral journalists who find the rules archaic and inconvenient.  Journalistic integrity no longer matters because hey, we’re just guys who love movies.  Late to the party as I am, I now realize that’s nowhere near good enough.  I don’t know how I can run off at the mouth about other journalists for unethical behavior and not look at myself in the mirror while I’m busy throwing stones in my glass house.  Also, there’s a pot and a kettle on my stove and they’re calling each other names.

I do think I’ve done a lot right in the relatively short time I’ve been in this field.  I don’t think I could have made it this far in my profession, being so far from from all the other professionals, if I wasn’t contributing something.  People I met in San Diego in Toronto wouldn’t bother to talk to me if I was a total fuck-up (even if I could be manic with questions, jokes, and comments).  I still have to earn my place among them and saying “Well, I don’t pirate footage” or “I credit other sites most of the time” is nowhere near good enough.  It never has been.  That’s been the baseline.  To demand respect for obeying common sense is the height of entitlement, a trait I’ve tried so hard to avoid in my adult life.  Watching Drew yell his heart out about his anger towards another young journalist, I knew he wasn’t grandstanding or massaging his own ego.  He had been at this for over two decades and worked non-stop to earn the respect from every single film journalist, studio, producer, and publicist out there.  He scared me and I think that was partially because I knew his rage could just as easily be directed at me and I would deserve it.***

So this is my mea culpa.  The kindness and generosity of those I met this past week was overwhelming and it would be an insult to all of them if I continued on the way I have for the past several years.  I’m going to make Collider better and stop ripping exclusive video.  I’m going to make sure we start linking back to Variety and The Hollywood Reporter and simply write an editorial every time they steal a story rather than sink to their level and indulge in such petty behavior.  I’m better than that and certainly Steve Weintraub and Collider are better than that.  I was so proud of our Comic-Con coverage and what we accomplished with just the two of us and a handful of part-time writers.  That all becomes meaningless if I think that’s good enough to stand among all those who came before and worked their hearts and souls out just to legitimize the field of online journalism that allows me to live a life beyond the boundaries and borders I thought would always contain it.

I hope all of you will accept my most sincere apologies and allow me to do justice to you and and our field in the future.

*What with their fancy medical degrees, and residencies, and saving lives.  Screw that.  I played “Operation” as a kid.  My opinion is as good as theirs, if not better.

**Although I’ve recently learned that I can come off overly snarky, mean, arrogant, patronizing, and condescending in my writing and I forgot that when Steve first brought me on to Collider, he didn’t ask for snark; he asked for humor and I forgot that and I’m going to try to stop going for the easy laugh because I think I can do better than that; but if there’s a gay joke I can go for, I’m gonna whip it out as fast as I can.

***I also hope that Drew’s son, Toshi, never ever pisses off his dad.  If he gets yelled at even a fraction of a decibal I saw that night, he’s gonna be scarred for life.  Toshi, please make sure you brush your teeth before you go to bed so I can sleep easier at night.

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