What is the value of a comment?

Interesting piece in Creative Review about Richard Ayoade and TomSka speaking at AdWeek about YouTube and filmmaking. Good to see such different filmmakers speaking on the subject, I wasn't there but you almost get a whiff of disdain Ayoade has around 'YouTube films' and the world that surrounds that, versus the world he inhabits which is more closely rooted in cinema. I wonder how he was in person, I'm probably massively projecting.

It was the subject around comments, which are immediate, transparent and from anyone (including trolls) on YouTube, and for Ayoade he would of course also get that kind of comment when his work finds its way on YouTube (or any online platform), but he is in the position to receive comments from respected critics of art and film. We quickly have two very, albeit stereotypical, different images of who is leaving comments on who's work. Ayoade, especially, hints at this.

Asked what he enjoyed about making films for online audiences, Ridgewell said he liked the immediacy of it and the freedom to make mistakes. "I like the instant feedback [you get from] putting things online," he added. He also said he spends a lot of time analysing comments left in response to his videos online, often "deconstructing thousands" to gauge an overall consensus on what did or didn’t work and using that to inform his next film.
“Commenters definitely shape my work, but whether they improve it or not is a different thing – people can be stupid, and have a kneejerk reaction to change, so should you always listen to them?” he added.

Ayoade, however, said he paid less attention to comments about or reviews of his productions - "I suppose in general it's too late by that stage - you can't really do anything about it. It can be useful, but I wonder whether it ever helped the next thing - the demands of each new thing are individual to it, and at some level, reviews tend to be about the person writing it, and their response," he said, adding that with regards to comments on platforms like YouTube: "There's [often] a particular kind of person who responds online."

Something interesting in that though, where as an artist it should ultimately be about your voice, and not of the voice answering the many commenters all putting in their 'two cents' to how they would've done it or how it could be better. Does that dilute your voice and just make you a people pleaser? Filmmaking by data analysis of YouTube comments and Google Analytics? Or is Ayoade kidding himself that audience reaction isn't as important to him? Can we believe he doesn't rush to read reviews of his work, even from reputable critics, who don't gorge themselves on Mountain Dew and Cheetos each night? I suppose that isn't Ayoade's point though, in fairness, he is talking about how useful it is for 'the next thing' you work on.

I'm sure you get much more from your own learnings of what did and didn't work on a particular project and you either learn from those mistakes or try and replicate what worked so well in the next project you work on.

I think I sit somewhere in the middle. I love reading YouTube comments of my work - the immediacy and brutal honesty is like being a voyeur to what someone wouldn't say to your face, and am often amazed at how random some of it can be. But I will always have a feeling of what did and didn't work afterwards, the comments will usually highlight that, and very likely shine a light on something that passed me by, but everything you do flows into the next thing you do, you do not live in a vacuum, so it's ultimately down to the director/creator/producer/artist in how they judge their work objectively. Listening to your audience can only help in that objective viewpoint, you've just got to tune into the truth, dodge the bullshit and let it refine, not define, your voice.

Birdman

Finally got round to seeing Birdman tonight. Really really enjoyed it, a great story with brilliant characters you cared about (or were interested in getting to know more) and all told in such a seamless style, with hidden cuts and steadicam making it flow like theatre. (Which I think was the intention). It carries you through at a constant steady pace and does bring this documentary feel to it. Sounds like it was fun to make with this style of long takes and free flowing steadicam weaving its way around the theatre and other locations:

Andrea Riseborough, meanwhile, described the process as "wonderful", mentioning how it was possible to hear the filming of a sequence from far away before the camera arrived and then "the magic happens with you, and then everything leaves you, and everything's silent."
Via Wikipedia

The music was brilliant too, I've seen Whiplash already, and it did remind me of that - which I guess is a shame in some small way as it paints it with that brush. But the effect was brilliant, really kept you on edge and kept this constant pace going on and on, driving you through each scene and never really knowing what the hell was going to happen next.

When I left the cinema at night (Odeon Covent Garden), it was like walking out in a scene from the film, so I put the soundtrack on my phone and wandered through a bustling Soho with drizzle in the night sky. Walking past the various theatre's, with those drums pounding was cool - it's the big kid in me, but it was quite a buzz. Ha!

Ultimately there was a really interesting point I took away from the film, that feeling of wanting to leave an impression, or dare I say a legacy or doing something that feels important in this short time we have. His need to create something meaningful to make amends for how he lived his life was mirrored with his daughter showing him how humans have spent so little time on earth with tissue paper (which he went on to wipe his nose with!). This quote sums up the absurdity of it all though:

Riggan: The last time I flew here from LA, George Clooney was sitting two seats in front of me. With those cuff links, and that... ridiculous chin. We ended up flying through this really bad storm. The plane started to rattle and shake, and everyone on board was crying, and praying. And I just sat there. Sat there thinking that when Sam opened that paper it was going to be Clooney's face on the front page. Not mine. Did you know that Farrah Fawcett died on the same day as Michael Jackson?
Via IMDB

It also had some really striking posters created for the marketing of the film.