In these supposedly progressive times, gender equality is one of those touchy issues relegated to the last paragraph of a trend piece nobody reads. When Katherine Heigl suggested to Vanity Fair that Judd Apatow's movies were sexist, the assertion came across like an after-the-fact shrug of acceptance. Ever the galvanizing provocateur, New York Times critic Manohla Dargis confronts the issue head-on with a thorough analysis of the gender bias in this year's summer blockbusters.

With "Iron Man, Batman, Big Angry Green Man" and other massive expressions of virility invading the box office, female roles appear to be relegated to the back of the multiplex. Dargis touches on the rumors that Warner Bros head Jeff Robinov believes no woman has been able to sell a movie since Julia Roberts (a point that Natalie Portman might contest, but not Paris Hilton) before sizing up numerous upcoming studio releases, with particular attention paid to Anna Faris, "who could be the next Judy Holliday but without the right material will, alas, probably end up the next Brittany Murphy." It's the kind of pronouncement that hits you in gut.

Oh internet, is there anything you can't do? As Monika told you last week, a good portion of Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert's classic television reviews have hit the net, and I can't get enough. It used to be I'd have to head down to the Museum of Television and Radio to find old material like this, but I couldn't sit and watch in my boxers there (Believe me, I tried). In addition to the sweater vest - packed Siskel and Ebert material, there's all of the Ebert and Roeper reviews and the Not Siskel and Not Ebert reviews. These include the occasionally awkward celebrity guest shows, like Roeper with John "Cougar" Mellencamp! You can also find cool extras like Roeper talking about the Sopranos finale and answering the question "Have you ever walked out of a movie?" Head here to get started, but be warned, it's mighty easy to get hooked! What reviews are you guys checking out? Have you found any that particularly stand out?

If I had to give you the best place to start, it would be this glorious special episode where Ebert sits down with Martin Scorsese to pick the best films of the 1990s. I've had this on tape since it first aired -- my favorite film critic and my favorite film director having a passionate conversation, it's pure gold. Their choices are terrific, but be prepared to be confused by Scorsese's #1 choice: "Now I'm cheating a bit with my choice for the #1 film of the 90's because it was actually made in '86." Insane, but I guess you don't tell Scorsese he's got to follow the rules. I checked out reviews of some of my favorite films from the last twenty years -- Planes Trains and Automobiles, Unforgiven, Fargo, etc, but these guys are the most fun when they're in complete agreement on hating something. For a perfect example, check out this review of one of Ebert's least favorite movies -- North. And these aren't on the site, but if you've never seen this clip and this clip of the pair ripping each other apart while trying to tape promos, make it a priority. They feel like SNL sketches. Incredible stuff, and believe it or not -- Not Safe For Work!

There's an interesting post over on Green Cine Daily from yesterday that's worth pondering: How much is it okay for a film critic to reveal spoilers when writing a review? The post was inspired by a piece in the New York Times by Village Voice film critic Nathan Lee called "Giving it All Away," in which he pretty much revels in being a critic who spoils key points in a film for the people who read his stuff. This is an important topic for me -- when I review a film, I try to respect that people usually don't want to have it spoiled for them before they see it, and so I try to balance analyzing what I like and don't like about a film with not revealing too much.

This issue of spoilers has reached a fever-pitch with the release of the seventh and final Harry Potter book; I've had to scrupulously avoid any and all websites that might give anything away, and even in our house, where four of us are simultaneously reading the book, we're careful not to give away anything about the storyline so as not to ruin the fun of each of us discovering what happens for ourselves as the story unfolds. So I mostly disagree with Lee's perspective, just as I disagreed with the idiots who drove around my town with one of the key plot elements of the sixth Harry Potter book shoe-polished on their rear window right after it came out -- I suppose there's a bit of power and glee in spoiling things for those who haven't yet seen or read something yet, but why would you want to do that?

I guess it's also bit of a philosophical thing -- is the role of a critic to reveal the plot and analyze it in minute detail, as though writing a thesis paper for a grad school film class? Or is it to tell potential viewers what you like and don't like about a film, while carefully treading that line between explaining your point of view without giving too much away? I fall in the latter camp, but I know that Lee isn't the only one who doesn't care about revealing spoilers. If I'm reviewing a film, I never read other reviews until I'm done writing my own, because I don't want my perspective to be inadvertently shifted by reading another point of view; if I'm just deciding whether to see a film for pleasure, though, I have a few critics whose opinions I trust who I tend to gravitate toward, because I like to hear their perspectives going in; then afterwards I roll over their points in my mind and compare them to my own take on the film.

I guess it's a good thing Lee wrote this piece, though -- at least his readers will know once and for all that anything they read by him is likely to have spoilers, so those who don't want to have a film's plot spoiled for them can just avoid reading him altogether. What do you think, though? Is there a difference between how an arthouse film should be reviewed or critiqued, versus a mainstream flick? Do you care if a critic spoils a film for you by revealing key elements of the plot in a review? And if you know that a critic has a habit of doing so, do you avoid reading their reviews to begin with?

Hilary Duff doesn't care what critics think of her movies, and she especially doesn't care what New York Times critic Stephen Holden has to say. The actress/singer made a statement Elle against Holden's claim that she is "talent-challenged," saying that, "he doesn't really fit the demographic. So I could really care less." She has a point, doesn't she? I personally think it's pretty useless for critics to give a bad review to someone like Duff, since it won't matter to either those who expect little from her anyway or those who are fans of hers. It is different when we give a surprisingly good review to a movie like She's the Man and its star, Amanda Bynes, because that discussion is more notable.

If Duff ever crosses over into a broader range of roles, particularly if she takes on serious roles, then it might be more in Holden's interests to address her contributions at that time. But according to her, a cross-over isn't likely any time soon. She commented on the possibility, saying, "Suppose the next thing I did was this super-edgy independent movie where I was pregnant or shooting up? What would that do to my fan base?" Now, as much as I think that would be amusing to see, I applaud Duff in knowing her place. We don't need another teen star attempting to become a real actress before she's ready. Too many films are ruined because of young starlets without proper talent being cast in serious roles. I'm thinking of Dunst, Lohan, Holmes and maybe Mandy Moore most recently, but it is certainly something that has been going on for years. Anyone remember when Bertolucci had to go and cast Liv Tyler? Yeah, I've been trying to forget it, too.

Normally I don't pay much attention to newswire critics, but Tuesday's article by Christy Lemire (Associated Press & Canadian Press) put me in a defensive mood. Lemire has written a piece in which she reflects on the movies she's seen in the first half of 2006, and realizes that her current top ten list is made up primarily of documentaries. I don't reject the declaration that we're experiencing another good year for docs, but since critics have been making this same observation for the pasts several years, it makes you wonder if it's the docs that are getting better or simply the fiction films that are getting worse. Or is it a little of both?

I say that it's neither. Documentaries just always seem universally better than narratives. Because they typically lack artificial elements like acting, plot and dialogue, on which viewers most easily judge the qualities of fiction films, docs are more difficult to analyze. Despite the fact that some docs are misleading and may distort or completely fabricate facts, they always have the perception of reality, and for most people, reality means truth and truth means good.

With most documentaries, the audience is given more than mere entertainment, whether it is taught something, is convinced of something, or prompted to think about something further.  In this way, docs are rarely a waste of time, and therefore critics may find it difficult to give them bad reviews. But what about when a doc isn't intent on being educational or insightful? How is it that Dave Chappelle's Block Party is a great film for someone (me) who doesn't necessarily favor the comedy of Chappelle of the music of the film's featured artists?

A few years ago, I wrote to Roger Ebert asking him what he thought the future for film criticism is. At the time, I was really fed up with the amount of amateur movie reviews flooding the internet and depreciating the value of professional critics. Thanks to the web, everyone gets to share their opinion, I complained. So where did that leave a writer like myself? Ebert replied with one sentence: "Good writing will prevail."

That was before the controversy over studios not screening for critics, and before publications began canning older, experienced, and better film critics. Hollywood Reporter's Anne Thompson has written an interesting article this week about the state of film criticism, primarily influenced by a column written by Wall Street Journal critic Joe Morgenstern a month ago. Both writers discuss the exaggeration of our profession's impending death, with Thompson mostly giving support to Morgenstern's ideas, and point out studios' need for critics to continue writing about smaller films, especially those put out by their specialty and "indie" divisions, if not blockbusters and sure things. Thompson goes on about the media's recent switch to writers who are younger and/or speak more to a youthful reader. She goes on to champion some bloggers, but she also brings up the unfortunate crowding of reviewers who do it for fun (this includes good writers, but moreso includes the really bad ones) and theorizes that internet film criticism will keep the practice (if not profession) alive.

So, my question is, do readers of film reviews favor a well-written piece, or one that simply gets to the point? Do they like critics who are simply journalists, or simply film experts?  Will good writing prevail, or will the unpaid internet critics prevail?

(Read our own Bob Sassone's list of the 7 best critics out there.)

Film writing, just like everything else, has been affected by the speed at which we live:  we're all (myself very much included) moving too quickly most of the time to sit down and really absorb things. So, instead, we read RSS summaries of articles. We watch Headline News to get the gist of what's happening in the world. We send abbreviation-laden text messages instead of actually speaking. Things that are thoughtful and sophisticated and pointed get brushed aside, if they even exist at all.

All of that is why Graham Fuller's extraordinary essay (from, of all places, The Village Voice) on a single still from 2046 is something everyone who loves film should read. Whether you agree with him or not, Fuller's carefully developed piece shows such depth of knowledge and thought that it serves to remind all of us just how inspiring film writing can be. And, indeed, to reassure us of the simple, irresistible power of cinema.