Ask Mick LaSalle: Would you rather not have to deal with the Little Man?
There are times when a critic would prefer to equivocate, and the benefit of a rating system is that it makes equivocation impossible.
In newspapers and magazines that don’t use a rating system, you will sometimes see equivocating reviews — not subtle reviews, not complex reviews, but obfuscating, ambiguous reviews.
Some also worry that a rating makes people feel it unnecessary to read the review at all.
People are busy, and we’re not writing Shakespearean sonnets over here.
[...] a rating can serve as a neon sign for a review, particularly when the rating is extreme.
By the first, second or third paragraph, the reader is going to get the gist, unless the critic adopts the bizarre strategy of keeping his or her opinion a mystery until the end — and even that strategy can only work once (at most), because people will adapt and start skipping to the last paragraph.
[...] the task of the critic is no different than the task of any writer, which is to somehow do enough tap dancing and keep enough plates in the air so that people keep reading.
If the main thing a review has going for it is the yes or no opinion buried within it, that opinion isn’t worth excavating.
[...] just as it’s a rare advantage to have a teenage Romeo and Juliet, it’s a rare thing to see an actor close to Lear’s age (Olivier was 76) taking on the role.
[...] that’s the great advantage of the classics.