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Negative Space: Manny Farber on the Movies
Manny Farber, one of the most important critics in movie history, championed the American action film—the bravado of Howard Hawks, the art brut styling of Samuel Fuller, the crafty, sordid entertainments of Don Siegel—at a time when other critics dismissed the genre. His witty, incisive criticism later worked exacting language into an exploration of the feelings and strategies that went into low-budget and radical films as diverse as Michael Snow's Wavelength, Werner Herzog's Fata Morgana , and Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman. Expanded with an in-depth interview and seven essays written with his wife, artist Patricia Patterson, Negative Space gathers Farber's most influential writings, making this an indispensable collection for all lovers of film.
412 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1971
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
January 14, 2026
400 pages of film-criticism down the hatch like a novel; actually this book turned out to be more addictive and engaging then any fiction (“literary” or otherwise), that I’ve read in these past months. I never thought it was possible to find a film critic whose writing could be so meaty and engaging. Farber’s writing, sentence by sentence, is fantastically entertaining—erupting in continual flurries of wit and perception. Wicked and exacting turns of phrase, surprising reversals, the occasional sharp and unexpected metaphor, the spare and pungent use of adjectives, verb clusters and compound words—Farber’s prose is very active, often throwing in authorial curveballs two thirds of the way through the arc of a concrete sentence. Still, an occasional sloppiness seeps into some of the writing, and the movement of his thought across the page can be less than clear: this includes also the movement from one thought to the next, let alone the structure of whole pieces, which are occasionally questionable—though sometimes very purposely open ended, and of course often “on assignment.” Then again, Farber was always suspicious of the razzle-dazzle gloss of a perfectly finished and structured production, and so in this way his sensibility is fittingly open-ended. The pieces, despite this occasional jumpiness, have a raw, worked-over quality—akin to the processes of painting and carpentry to which Farber was also dedicated. This hand-worn toughness and multi-valence of the writing itself is what gives so many of these pieces their addictive depth. One is constantly re-reading certain sentences for their clarity of insight. Farber can infuriate you in his pugnaciousness, but his burrowing into a work, even that he ridicules, inevitably makes one see new dimensions in it. The best part is that his writing is eminently readable and fun, and blessedly jargon-free.
I also love Patricia Patterson. I think her contributions only made the later pieces stronger! She injects even more nuance and subtracts or negates definitive evaluative judgment (the early pieces are filled with funky hot-takes—part of their fun)… Farber even acknowledges in the final interview that this evaluative stuff is bull crap and the downfall of much criticism. And perhaps that’s what I like so much about this collection: there is always a sense of process and evolution, whether it is the writer’s of the filmmakers—there is a sense of pushing for the truth of the film and the continually adjusted accuracy of one’s perceptions, but of there always being more canvas to explore.
Some of Farber’s strengths as a writer:
1) An unpretentious homegrown American intelligence with an instinctive understanding of landscape and architecture.
2) A painter’s eye.
3) The ability to evoke the physicality both of the events depicted onscreen as well as the plastic qualities evoked by the celluloid as projected (this book made me miss movie theaters like hell). The sensuous surfaces and depths of the film are often accurately rendered.
4) A sense of humor.
5) Psychological acuity (particularly regarding actors and performances, as well as characters) and a rather moral imperative in looking at the representation of human beings. Farber pays more attention to the Actor than any critic I have read—and with much more acuity.
Much of the criticism I have read does not actually have a point of view; it is either endless frame by frame formalism without a sense of the bigger picture (which burrows into the why’s and how’s) or it exudes a bland, completely unsubstantiated “personal tone”: simply lazy writing. Not to mention those glorified shmoop plot summaries that are little worse than newspaper advertisements for bored audience members. Ebert’s casual tone occasionally has its charm, but lacks entirely in rigor, push, or depth of insight. Sontag is good at describing the intellectual climates surrounding moments in cinema history and directors, but lacks the insight into the medium that she more often provides us in the realms of literature or dance. She seems mostly focused on the bigger ideas, admirably illustrating these in her writings. Admittedly there are some major critics I have yet to get to. Farber could not be further from the watery soup of description and summarization (lacking in real discernment or argument even) that often passes for criticism. His is some of the only truly illuminating movie-writing I have yet to read. It propels the reader to look closer, and to understand, perhaps, some of the essential qualities of a work or an artist.
What I have learned from Farber:
1) Sharpen and expand your vocabulary until each word chosen is fecund tool. Sharpen one’s wit on the daily and cultivate a keen sense of humor—good criticism (of certain kinds of film) often works best if it has flashes of humor across the page.
2) Pay more attention to people, color, and space. Look harder.
I also love Patricia Patterson. I think her contributions only made the later pieces stronger! She injects even more nuance and subtracts or negates definitive evaluative judgment (the early pieces are filled with funky hot-takes—part of their fun)… Farber even acknowledges in the final interview that this evaluative stuff is bull crap and the downfall of much criticism. And perhaps that’s what I like so much about this collection: there is always a sense of process and evolution, whether it is the writer’s of the filmmakers—there is a sense of pushing for the truth of the film and the continually adjusted accuracy of one’s perceptions, but of there always being more canvas to explore.
Some of Farber’s strengths as a writer:
1) An unpretentious homegrown American intelligence with an instinctive understanding of landscape and architecture.
2) A painter’s eye.
3) The ability to evoke the physicality both of the events depicted onscreen as well as the plastic qualities evoked by the celluloid as projected (this book made me miss movie theaters like hell). The sensuous surfaces and depths of the film are often accurately rendered.
4) A sense of humor.
5) Psychological acuity (particularly regarding actors and performances, as well as characters) and a rather moral imperative in looking at the representation of human beings. Farber pays more attention to the Actor than any critic I have read—and with much more acuity.
Much of the criticism I have read does not actually have a point of view; it is either endless frame by frame formalism without a sense of the bigger picture (which burrows into the why’s and how’s) or it exudes a bland, completely unsubstantiated “personal tone”: simply lazy writing. Not to mention those glorified shmoop plot summaries that are little worse than newspaper advertisements for bored audience members. Ebert’s casual tone occasionally has its charm, but lacks entirely in rigor, push, or depth of insight. Sontag is good at describing the intellectual climates surrounding moments in cinema history and directors, but lacks the insight into the medium that she more often provides us in the realms of literature or dance. She seems mostly focused on the bigger ideas, admirably illustrating these in her writings. Admittedly there are some major critics I have yet to get to. Farber could not be further from the watery soup of description and summarization (lacking in real discernment or argument even) that often passes for criticism. His is some of the only truly illuminating movie-writing I have yet to read. It propels the reader to look closer, and to understand, perhaps, some of the essential qualities of a work or an artist.
What I have learned from Farber:
1) Sharpen and expand your vocabulary until each word chosen is fecund tool. Sharpen one’s wit on the daily and cultivate a keen sense of humor—good criticism (of certain kinds of film) often works best if it has flashes of humor across the page.
2) Pay more attention to people, color, and space. Look harder.
April 18, 2016
I disagree with so many of Manny Farber's reviews. He favors Westerns over Noir and seems to have little patience for the French or Italian New Waves. However, in the 1970s, he gets on board with so many of my favorite directors: Herzog, Fassbinder, Roeg, Akerman, etc. This book is also the first time I've read anyone complaining about Old Hollywood and a lot of the films in the 1940s and 50s. I often feel disconnected from the overacting and seemingly cheesy stories, but I will often give films from that era a pass because that style just seemed to be the norm. Farber not only gives voice to a lot of my problems with film from that time, but champions (admittedly more obscure) films that resist that trend. The thing is, even when you vehemently disagree with him, he still proves so entertaining. Such a big personality and a curmudgeon with an incredible wit. I think it's quite an accomplishment that an essay or a review can elicit an audible laugh. The interview with him and his wife was also incredibly enjoyable for rounding out his personality with such intelligence. Anyone that cares at all about film criticism should expose themselves to Manny Farber.
January 29, 2020
This fucking guy
September 21, 2008
i honestly haven't read every single essay here, but i've read a good bit of it. anyway, farber is probably the most playful and idiosyncratic film critic i've ever read, being particularly useful/stimulating while trashing films i absolutely adore. the best part of farber's writing is his ability to reshape an argument concerning his subjects. it's never some binary, thumbs-up-thumbs-down reaction with him, instead, it's as if he alters the content of the films he's discussing through his evaluations of them. not the most reverent way to look at something, but one of the most engaging.
i can't think of a better example of the potential of criticism as an artistic contribution. through farber, the works of several directors change substantially in my mind. when i watch something by anthony mann or raoul walsh, farber's fingerprints are all over the films. but instead of invading them or ruining them, he brings to light different aspects than the one's i'd be drawn to. his contribution is additive and expansive, as most great criticism tends to be.
rest in peace, mr. farber.
i can't think of a better example of the potential of criticism as an artistic contribution. through farber, the works of several directors change substantially in my mind. when i watch something by anthony mann or raoul walsh, farber's fingerprints are all over the films. but instead of invading them or ruining them, he brings to light different aspects than the one's i'd be drawn to. his contribution is additive and expansive, as most great criticism tends to be.
rest in peace, mr. farber.
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June 5, 2020I tried to read this.
I don't think he's a good writer. (I mean, he's a unique writer. And if you're interested in writing as writing maybe you'll find him interesting. But I want to understand a movie critic.)
I hate his review of The Third Man, one of my favourite movies.
It's a sign of my moral progress that I put this thing down as early as I did.
I don't think he's a good writer. (I mean, he's a unique writer. And if you're interested in writing as writing maybe you'll find him interesting. But I want to understand a movie critic.)
I hate his review of The Third Man, one of my favourite movies.
It's a sign of my moral progress that I put this thing down as early as I did.
December 8, 2022
Bonus points for his unapologetic, contrarian take on a great many untouchable "masterpieces" (most of which I still love)...
February 7, 2013
I lost count of how many artists and movies Manny Farber didn't take to in the first 2/3 of this book. Vittorio De Sica, Billy Wilder, The Third Man, Dave Brubeck, Stan Getz, John Huston, Frank Capra, Breathless, Godard, Antonioni, JD Salinger, Fellini, Lawrence of Arabia, Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockinbird, Truffaut, Jeanne Moreau, Saul Bellow, John Cheever, Paddy Chayefsky, Elia Kazan, A Face in the Crowd, Marlon Brando in Streetcar ... I could go on and on. He did manage to acknowledge that Citizen Kane had some good things in it.
And he likes Howard Hawks and Preston Sturges.
But basically, and call me a heretic, I thought he was kind of a schmuck. No matter how insightful this seminal, heralded critic was about deconstructing specific films and scenes, it kind of makes you wonder dude why are you even going to the movies?
The last third, after he'd begun writing with Patricia Patterson, is much more generous, and I ended up appreciating him more.
And he likes Howard Hawks and Preston Sturges.
But basically, and call me a heretic, I thought he was kind of a schmuck. No matter how insightful this seminal, heralded critic was about deconstructing specific films and scenes, it kind of makes you wonder dude why are you even going to the movies?
The last third, after he'd begun writing with Patricia Patterson, is much more generous, and I ended up appreciating him more.
March 23, 2009
Although I've read some of the essays in this book, I've never read the whole thing. I hope to soon. Farber's essay on "Taxi Driver" brilliantly expresses my own dissatisfactions with that film; he takes perspectives on things that seem to elude most critics. He had a finely tuned critical radar; one of the most scintillating critical sensibilities and talents for expression during the golden age of movie criticism.
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June 6, 2022One of the best movie books, but you really have to wrestle with it. Not because it's difficult in an academic or theoretical sense, but because Farber's writing and thinking are so idiosyncratic, designed to put the reader/watcher in a posture that's active rather than passive (at one point he mentions sports writing as an early influence). He can't be compared to anybody, and I can't imagine anyone else successfully adopting his style. The eight essays in the expanded edition (most written with his wife, Patricia Patterson, and including a long joint interview) are absolutely crucial. Generally a little less pugnacious and negative (surely one meaning of the book's title - Farber rarely, if ever, praised anything without reservation), they find him moving from Hollywood films into the avant-garde of Snow, Akerman, Duras, Straub/Huillet, Herzog, and Fassbinder, and give a fuller sense of his work and ideas (including his work as a painter).
November 6, 2018
Difficile de céder complètement à la tonalité péremptoire des textes de Farber, bien souvent associée à des goûts improbables. Mais il est vrai que son écriture a du cran - et d’ailleurs la traduction française ne lui fait pas honneur. 4/5
July 25, 2009
First of all, Farber is just a weird and compelling writer. Sure, he chose to write bout films mostly, but he could have devoted his career to philately or fitness and I would have enjoyed him. Unlike, say, Robert Christgau, he lacks the ability to condense oceans of thought and wit into brief coherent sentences. Yet riding his wordstream can be fun. Dig if you will the opening sentence to his seminal essay 'White Elephant Art vs. Termite Art': "Most of the feckless, listless quality of today's art can be blamed on its drive to break out of a tradition while, irrationally, hewing to the square, boxed-in shape and gemlike inertia of an old, densely wrought European masterpiece." Whew -- but boy does he proceed from there!
As a "film critic," Farber's opinions are often just flat-out perverse. Take his 1966 essay 'The Decline of the Actor', where he finds the only "good acting in recent films" to be practiced by three people: John Wayne, George Hamilton, and Mickey Rooney. And then there's his constant, palpable disdain for "longhairs" (his term) -- he really did seem a bit uncomfortable during the the pre-revolutionary cinema sixties. He's not reactionary -- he quite likes 'How I Won the War' for example -- but he just has no tolerance for preaching and the striving after the "masterpiece". And I do enjoy reading someone who can take John Huston or Preston Sturges down a peg or two.
As a "film critic," Farber's opinions are often just flat-out perverse. Take his 1966 essay 'The Decline of the Actor', where he finds the only "good acting in recent films" to be practiced by three people: John Wayne, George Hamilton, and Mickey Rooney. And then there's his constant, palpable disdain for "longhairs" (his term) -- he really did seem a bit uncomfortable during the the pre-revolutionary cinema sixties. He's not reactionary -- he quite likes 'How I Won the War' for example -- but he just has no tolerance for preaching and the striving after the "masterpiece". And I do enjoy reading someone who can take John Huston or Preston Sturges down a peg or two.
May 13, 2008
Farber writes like no one else. His reviews read like an excavation: as though Farber is going over the images in his head over and over again, each time trying to penetrate his memory, and thus the film, even further. In the process, his reviews are like a slowly peeled onion: the further one goes, the more insight there is. His method of criticism goes beyond just reviewing a film and often focuses on the greater context of cinema at the time. He is not afraid to examine a "group" of films released at the same time or on a similar theme in order to better evaluate a given work. Nor is he afraid to theorize about the aesthetics of mainstream cinema in conjunction with artistic or experimental films.
May 20, 2007
Manny Farber was called "the critic's critic" by Philip Lopate in his collection of American film criticism. True, but I think Farber is also more purely enjoyable to read than even the layman's twin titans (Kael and Ebert) and more informative and eye-opening than the most famed theorists (insert any number of suitably snobbish names -- Bazin, Sarris, Durgnat -- here). His review of "Taxi Driver" (co-written with his wife Patricia Patterson) may be the ultimate refutation of film criticism as a primarily evaluative medium.
August 27, 2008
Farber died on August 17, 2008. If you've never encountered his two-fisted prose, clarity, and ability to describe the surface of films--the framing, the objects, the spaces in between--in such a way that it makes watching films a truly active and dare I say transcendent experience, then you have plenty of rewarding catching up to do. You may disagree with him, you may hate him, but it'll be impossible for you to dismiss this truly idiosyncratic American original.
March 25, 2015
Essential
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July 16, 2015791.4309 F2198 1998
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews