While such works point to the strength of the fan mentality when it comes to creating inspired responses to art, they also reveal a major weakness concerning criticism of that same art. Of course the line I'm drawing between artistic rejoinders, in the form of unauthorized sequels, parodies and the like, and formal, print-based critiques is more than debatable. On YouTube one can post a video "response" to another video, thus obviating the need for a written (i..e., explicitly critical) response. And of course mass media such as trade fiction and genre movies have long "commented upon" canon (i.e., public domain) texts: consider all the contemporary filters through which Victorian characters such as Dracula and Sherlock Holmes have been made to pass (with two high-profile film versions of the latter currently on their way).  

But collapsing the concepts of artistic production and criticism is probably not something we want to rush into with young practitioners of either, especially as critical thinking/writing would benefit so much from a discrete focus. To repeat a notion from the earlier post, Web culture constantly finds itself in a place that teeters on the brink of real criticism before falling back on to the safer and more comforting side of "opinion." Certainly fandom is not only rife with opinion, but often seems driven by it.

So why can't this sort of message-board discourse be considered criticism? Well, it can in theory because it's not so much the medium or outlet that matters (some of the best film criticism I read is on IMDB's public boards), but rather the perspective and strategy. And that's where fan reviews, despite being so valuable, ultimately fall short much of the time.

Before proceeding, I really must confess that I've never studied criticism in a formal way. I can't hold forth for more than a sentence on Edmund Wilson or structuralism--well, there I just did, so now I'm already at a loss. Instead, I keep coming back to how in the English Language Arts curriculum we emphasize that students should strive to "respond to literature" by making connections between the text and a) other texts; b) oneself; and c) the world.

It's a simple way to divide the critic's mission, but by bearing these three objectives in mind, it's easy to see both the possibilities and limitations of criticism attempted from a fandom context. We even begin to see why there is, sadly, a too-strong bias against fandom-related activities in schools. Let's consider the impassioned critiques that will eventually greet the J.J. Abrams-produced big screen relaunch of Star Trek. I for one know that I'll be reading what fans post on sites such as Firefox News (which I also happen to write for) in addition to paying attention to what Entertainment Weekly, Variety, The Village Voice, and Cineaste say. Why? Because who else will explain to me, for example, how the film corrupts or fulfills Roddenberry's vision in such depth and detail? Who else will tell me how the characters and concepts relate to ones with which I'm already familiar from decades of following the franchise? In short, no one has the background knowledge and content expertise that fans do.

On the other hand, let's examine what's really going on here in terms of criticism:  notice how the connections being made are all text-to-text.

Yes, the best fan-critics make text-to-self connections but these are mostly implicit because the same connections are shared by other fans, their primary audience. The trick with turning student-fans into student-critics is to encourage them to articulate their response on a deeper level--convey, for example, to a more general readership why shojo manga appeals to you even while discussing a particular title. And it means paying attention not only to how this specific text aligns with our emotional and aesthetic expectations, but also questioning those expectations themselves--that's also part of text-to-self. (Incidentally, this is also a nice jumping off point for genre study:  "What is it about horror or romance that speaks to you?") Conventional movie, TV, and book reviewers usually foreground text-to-self connections, but these are often done at a shallow level:  "I liked/disliked this media message because of x, so you should/shouldn't see or read it." Web natives at least know that this is just a fancied-up version of "IMO." But for their part, fans are often scorned by other communities precisely because of the perception that they often don't make text-to-world connections, but instead max out on text-to-text connections that smack of insularity.

Writer-Director Garth Jennings (left) and producer Nick Goldsmith on the set of Son of Rambow in front of a marquee that spells out the text-to-text connection that their film makes. You may want to point out to young artists that when pros create fannish work, they often use stealth language such as "homage" or "pastiche." (Image © 2008 by PARAMOUNT VANTAGE, a Division of PARAMOUNT PICTURES. All Rights Reserved.)

So how can educators coach students to supplement the knowledge and passion of a fan's approach to criticism with text-to-world and deeper-level text-to-self connections? At the risk of being very obvious, it all comes back to media literacy. Without even trying too hard, the field's five central questions seem naturally to hit all three types of connections.  When we channel fandom urges through a media literate filter--rather than dismissing fans as blindly embracing "product"--we have the means to leverage high-interest media in the service of critical literacy.

In the end, it's possible that young fans are ideally suited, with their patience, motivation, and humility in the face of art, to developing a critical mindset. All they need is the "permission" and guidance of teachers who can inspire them to identify the connections between what they love and the wider world, both the one within and without.