Quote:
Originally Posted by
Bartleby_Scriven 
Your formula is pretty spot on, though she's not a contrarian when it comes to The Godfather. Her evaluation of Brando as Vito is especially insightful.
Thing is, to me she's never really come off as a contrarian. She raved about E.T., for instance. A real contrarian will say E.T. is shit. (Even Armond White won't say that, because his head is so far up Spielberg's ass.)
It helps to put Godfather in the context of its time. It was based on a trashy bestseller. It still retained a lot of its pulpy vitality, which is part of what appealed to Kael, as well as Coppola's peerlessly smooth and confident handling of what really had the potential to be a shitty film. Today we look at Godfather as a monument, an unqualified classic. Back then it hadn't gathered decades' worth of genuflections. It was seen as a really damn fine Hollywood film of the sort Hollywood hadn't been succeeding at much back then. The surprise was that it didn't completely shit the bed, given the crappy novel, the cast of mostly unknowns, and Brando, who at the time was, if not box-office poison, damn close to it.
Point is, when I said "the more a movie tried to be important, the less she liked it; the less a movie tried to be important, the more she liked it" — well, The Godfather wasn't really "trying to be important," not in the way I'm thinking of. It was Coppola on his game and telling a cracking good story (or turning a cheesy story into a better story). It turned out to be an important film, but only incidentally, because of the craft and care and intelligence Coppola brought to it. On the other hand, Apocalypse Now was trying to be important, and Kael didn't think much of it.
Other examples: E.T. and Temple of Doom = Spielberg not trying to be important (Kael loved both). The Color Purple and Empire of the Sun = Spielberg trying to be important (Kael had serious issues with them).
I really think she just liked what she liked and disliked what she disliked. I don't think she ever operated like "Oh, everyone loves/hates this — I'd better go the other way." Even with directors she loved — De Palma, Scorsese, Peckinpah — she'd call 'em like she saw 'em.
The more interesting charge against her is the whole Paulettes thing, where she had a slew of writers who idolized her and who were terrified of going against her opinions — even years after she retired but before she died. She always denied it, but other folks who were around at the time like James Wolcott beg to differ. I think she enjoyed holding sway over younger writers. It made up for the influence she was increasingly failing to have over moviemakers and moviegoers as the '80s kicked in.