Joanna Langfield Lets Readers Down With “Gravity” Review
By Marcus Julianus, Associate Critic
Platitudinous, pedestrian, or prosaic—however it’s cut, Joanna Langfield’s “Gravity” review is a bland and nonessential addition to this year’s Gravity offerings.
This is a systems failure on almost every level: visually it’s something out of 1998, mechanically it’s pockmarked with missing hyphens and extra spaces and missed commas, technically it’s completely out there (a teardrop in the vastness of space is said to “echo… forever,” whatever that might mean). There are no near-misses, just clear ones.
Stilted usage makes this one difficult for audiences to power straight through without having to go back and re-read, just to make sure they got it right the first time. Editing along as one reads does not make for a pleasant experience.
For what it offers, Gravity is at least a very eager analysis, and whether Langfield wanted to pass her joy on to the audience or just put it on a page, it exists in force. It’s sad to see such exuberance go to waste on such shallow and underdeveloped criticism.
Although in another context it might be criticized for being lean, 331 words is mercifully short, another highlight of what’s unfortunately among the lower-rung of reviews this season.