Ideally, in the next 5 or 10 or 100 years, I'd be a film critic, like this guy:
Considering the fact that a) I'm not French and b) I don't have Peter O'Toole's magnificently venomous voice, I probably won't be getting the prime supporting turn in Ratatouille anytime soon.
But still. I would love to be a critic, to be paid to review and discuss (a-hem) the cinema: it was basically my main concern when coming to the university, and I tacked on Grady to my film major because I figured I needed the professional support.
But still. Professional jobs in criticism are—while not fewer or more far between—not very well paying.
Newspapers are folding and buying out their film writers, and there aren't enough magazines to sustain the fallout.
Plus, y'know, the Internet.
But (finally) still: I love writing about film too much to not pursue it. Maybe one day, if I move to Manhattan and learn to really, really hate Alfred Hitchcock, I can be like Pauline Kael, the grand old lady of "The New Yorker":
...Although I'll probably just end up writing about community politics for the "Chattanooga Times-Free Press" and doing things like this in my off-time:
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