David Thomson, a veteran film critic and author, has sparked debate with his recent book critiquing the influence of cinema on audiences and society. At 85, the British-born, California-based cineaste offers a revisionist perspective on the role of movies, arguing that Hollywood has contributed to a diminished capacity for empathy among viewers and has shaped cultural attitudes in troubling ways.
Thomson’s critique centers on the difference between film and literature as mediums for engaging the imagination. Drawing on a passage from Henry James’s *The Portrait of a Lady*, he contrasts the subtle, interior moments a novel can evoke with cinema’s more overt, image-driven storytelling. He contends that while reading cultivates an “ability to imagine other people,” films often position audiences as passive onlookers. According to Thomson, movies invite viewers to observe dramatic or violent scenarios with a sense of detachment and safety, a dynamic that can dull emotional engagement and foster voyeuristic tendencies.
He extends this argument to contemporary politics, suggesting that the blurred lines between entertainment and political spectacle have made it difficult for society to respond seriously to crucial events. Thomson cites the second term of Donald Trump as an example, asserting that the understanding of life as a “movie” contributed to a collective failure to reject his presidency decisively.
Throughout his work, Thomson offers numerous anecdotes and reflections on film history, from the emergence of Hollywood through the stories of early European immigrants to his personal experiences with classic stars such as Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas. He recalls how noir films shaped his own adolescent identity, acknowledging both the allure and potential harm of identifying with certain cinematic archetypes.
Critics of Thomson’s book note the sprawling nature of his narrative, with some finding the argument at times hard to follow due to digressions. However, many recognize the depth of his knowledge and the valuable insights he provides into the evolution of cinema, from silent films to contemporary streaming hits like *Adolescence*.
While Thomson lays significant blame on cinema for cultural and emotional declines, he acknowledges that other forces, such as social media and artificial intelligence, might have an even greater impact on modern society. He also recognizes that audiences seek escapism in movies, a tradition tracing back to ancient Rome’s circuses, and that blaming cinema alone oversimplifies broader cultural shifts.
In sum, Thomson’s book serves as a thoughtful, if at times meandering, meditation on the power of film to shape individual and collective experience. He challenges readers to consider how entertainment influences politics and personal empathy, proposing that the allure of the big screen may come with unforeseen costs.
