In the rubble, with the Guardian for a spine. Vapid documentaries.

Rubbish Taino Paintings

ONE OF MY biggest gripes with documentaries these days is the sense I’m being preached at by some clever dick who has a rolled-up copy of the Guardian for a spine.

Too many of today’s documentaries are flashy nonsense. I can’t think of a nicer way of describing them. Too many shots of the presenter strolling or striding about ancient pavements or entering mysterious tombs and caves, pretending to hack their way through jungles, standing romantically on promontories, staring up in rapt concentration at bits of architecture, and so on, accompanied by mood music.

What makes this worse is the diminishing presence of facts. You end up learning almost nothing…

Source: The Fortnightly Review.

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