There's a Reason the Critics Don't Like Your New Stuff, Taika Waititi

Oh, Taika. You knew it was a bad idea from the moment you logged on, right? After the disastrous critical and commercial performance of his latest film, Klara and the Sun, Taika Waititi took to Instagram to prove how deeply unbothered he was by the whole rigmarole. Sharing a screenshot of a news story celebrating the film's strong audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, Waititi wrote, "I haven't read a review of anything aimed at me or my peers in almost 15 years. But I do listen to the people. So this Halloween, let's spare a thought for those sad lost souls who couldn't achieve their dreams of becoming artists, and thus settled, and became critics. The same people who also hated Jojo Rabbit Irrelevant. Out of touch. Obsolete. In the bin."

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Creators complaining about meanie critics and dismissing them as failed artists is the last refuge of the creatively spent. Nobody, not even the hippest and most talented people on the planet, can make whining about reviews or the people who write them sound like anything beyond pure flop-sweaty desperation. Don't put it in the newspaper that Taika got mad. And all with a closed comments section too.

Rants like this are always a bit sad, and this one isn't even accurate. Critics generally really liked Jojo Rabbit, for one. Waititi was heralded by reviewers for years before he became a big-name director in America. But it is true that the tides have turned. Post-Oscar win, Waititi's work has been a pale imitation of itself, a cycle of rehashed jokes and emotional shortcuts that have left us wondering what happened to the man who made Hunt for the Wilderpeople.

Popularity can bring with it many creative hindrances. The scrappy energy of low-budget artistic freedom and a small-scale local production is often thrilling in its freedom. Add on a bigger budget and increasing expectations and things suddenly change. Your auteurist concerns and artistic quirks become tropes, the kinds of bite-sized details easily digested by a boardroom for an elevator pitch. Waititi's blend of sweet-sad goofiness and New Zealand and Māori cultural beats need to be either dumbed down or blown up for the universal demographic of blockbuster appeal. It worked with Thor: Ragnarok in part because expectations for that part of the franchise were low and the injection of distinct character to Thor's lore was sorely needed. But it was also a success because Waititi was not yet blunted by the tentpole formula's tedious demands. There was an impish energy to the film, that irascible sense of a director who couldn't believe he was getting away with it, even when he had to tick a few boxes and deal with the MCU's inability to create a cohesive third act.

It notably did not work with Thor: Love and Thunder, a sequel with immense potential given the source material that fell flat upon arrival. The stresses of an expanded universe weighed heavily on the movie. The CGI was almost parodically bad, the acting a mixed bag, and the Taika-esque humour more uneven. But there was a lot more of it too. The jokes seemed to overwhelm all else within the narrative, as though Waititi was afraid to let things be serious for a moment. It felt as though his once-well-balanced scales of humour and pathos had been tipped to one side. The movie saw a more timid Taika, but also a tired one, simultaneously burdened by franchise bloat and powered by a new level of clout. It was as though he thought he didn't need to do more than be himself. It had worked so well before, so why stop now?

But too much Taika can spoil the plot. Next Goal Wins was a massive wasted opportunity with what should have been an easy victory for the director. Based on the documentary of the same name, it followed the American Samoan football team and the Dutch coach drafted to train them in the hopes of scoring their first ever goal. It was practically hand-crafted for Waititi to do his magic: a scrappy underdog story with a majority indigenous ensemble that was full of humour and a heart-soaring conclusion.

I remember seeing the film at a TIFF public screening and thinking, "Dude, didn't you used to be good at this?" Everything about it felt curiously half-assed. Michael Fassbender was sorely miscast as the lead. Every character spoke in ill-fitting pop culture references or tedious Taika-isms. Any moment that could have been imbued with much-needed pathos rejected such things in favour of yet another quip. The film seems genuinely afraid of giving a damn. The exception to this, where it tries to make some grander point about community, is through adding transphobia where there wasn't any in the source material! Then, to add insult to injury, we don't even get to see the big match where American Samoa (spoiler) scores their first-ever goal. It's recounted to us with a montage of clips. It's a rug-pull of insulting proportions.

You can't blame Waititi for getting high off his own supply. You try winning an Oscar and not thinking you're hot sh*t. He is hardly the first director to succumb to such temptation. The podcast Blank Check exists for a reason, after all. Still, it's always a disappointment to see a storyteller you loved enter a period of creative decline, and for them to go down the tedious "boo, critics are failed artists" mode.

Waititi needs to get out of his well-worn comfort zone and do something that even he wouldn't expect from himself. Perhaps he could try a new genre, like horror, or focus on technical craft over the safety of a quippy screenplay. Strip everything to the bare bones and delve into the fundamentals of filmmaking. His work directing TV remains stellar. How about collaborating with a great writer in that medium and forming a sturdy and equal partnership, not unlike his work with Jemaine Clement? Waititi is not longer the underdog but surely he can reclaim some of that nervy energy and earnestness, because pure faux-casual ego does not befit him.