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Notes from the premiere of the documentary The Last Critic at SXSW
Robert Christgau
As someone who turns 84 in a month, my appetite for long-distance travel has shrunk close to zero, not just because airfare is so pricey (and getting pricier thanks to Trump's war in Iran) but because the whole rigmarole has so many wearying drawbacks and complications. Speaking of which, so do festivals, conventions, and other such socioprofessional aggregations. But this year's Austin, Texas, SXSW—in case you didn't know, that means South by Southwest, one of the biggest—beckoned pretty much irresistibly because I myself was a featured attraction as the subject of a documentary called The Last Critic that would premier there. The nearly 90 minute doc is the work of a trio of Austinites: director Matty Wishnow, director of photography Bun Wu, and editor Paul Lovelace, the latter of whom had worked as my assistant and done a student doc about me at NYU in the late '90s. Carola and I couldn't resist, especially with And It Don't Stop editor and doc co-producer Joe Levy providing support. Carola even bought a gold bomber jacket for the occasion. Looked great.
So there we were watching ourselves on the big screen with hundreds of people we'd never met and whaddaya know? The audience was clearly having a good time at a well-made film, to the extent that the wisecracks that sometimes end my reviews were getting real laughs. There was vintage footage from Paul's old film adding historical weight, as well as testimony from (among others) Boots Riley, Randy Newman, Greg Tate, and Ellen Willis—the last two both now gone, and seeing them onscreen was especially moving. And when the flick was over, there were Carola in her gold jacket and me in my What's More Punk Than the Public Library T-shirt doing Q&A from the stage. Of course we were flattered. Why wouldn't we be?
Except for the tail-end of a set by Jon Langford, none of the pretty good music we saw knocked us out, but catching up with friends and acquaintances I hadn't seen in a long time, particularly former Voice music editor Chuck Eddy, my nephew Julian Dibbell, and Texas Monthly editor (and my onetime assistant) Jeff Salamon, who put us up with help from two of the most memorable dogs I've ever met, more than compensated. Will we catch SXSW next year? Could be, could be.
The Last Critic screens March 26 at the Big Ears Festival in Knoxville, Tennessee, with more film festival showings to be announced shortly.