Gen Z is such an interesting generation because we are so comfortable challenging the status quo and pushing back against stagnant ideas in creative spaces. But are we beginning to confuse constructive criticism with personal attacks?
Recently, a review of Temple University’s production of Macbeth sparked an interesting conversation on Instagram. The article, written by Chloe Pabon for The Temple News, questioned whether the production’s post-apocalyptic interpretation of Shakespeare’s tragedy was effectively portrayed, ultimately arguing that its inconsistent acting styles and creative choices prevented the show from reaching its full potential.
The thing that some readers really took issue with was the review’s characterization of certain female performances, particularly its use of language like “soap-opera melodrama,” and unsurprisingly, accusations of misogyny began circulating in the Instagram discussion surrounding the article.
If I had decided not to read the article, I would have walked away with a completely different story than what was really written.
Based on the comments, I was picturing some harshly worded piece that dedicated paragraphs to tearing down the female roles and praising the males, possibly crossing the line between professional critique and personal insult. Interestingly enough, I found an article that offered a relatively tame review of the production’s strengths and weaknesses.
I understand that there is a level of opinion behind calling something offensive, but I worry that journalistic standards for critics are being overlooked in favor of feelings and keeping everyone comfortable. The discrepancy between how the article was portrayed and what was actually written made me wonder: When did being critical of someone’s art become synonymous with attacking the artist?
We all know art is inherently personal. Putting any creative work into the world requires vulnerability.
But your choice to be vulnerable does not make the art exempt from critiques.
In her review, Pabon argued that the cast’s differing approaches to Shakespeare created a lack of stylistic cohesion. While some performers embraced heightened classical acting, others adopted melodramatic or contemporary approaches. Her concern was not simply that individual actors made choices she disliked, but that those choices did not always seem to belong to the same production.
That is an artistic observation, not necessarily a personal attack.
I am not saying the phrasing doesn’t matter. Women have historically faced criticism for being too emotional and dramatic, both onstage and off, so it makes sense to examine whether certain words reinforce those stereotypes.
But overall, using phrases with a shady history does not make the entire piece particularly misogynistic. The actual argument being made matters.
If we begin judging criticism solely by how uncomfortable it makes us feel, we risk losing the distinction between harmful commentary and honest artistic evaluation.
Let’s be clear: there is a difference between holding a journalist accountable for biased criticism and expecting a journalist to avoid language that might upset the people being reviewed.
An arts critic is not a publicist. Their responsibility is not to protect a production’s reputation or affirm the talent of everyone involved. Their responsibility is to evaluate the work thoughtfully, fairly, and with enough specificity that readers understand the reasoning behind their conclusions.
This is not a free pass for critics to say whatever they want and be cruel, but it gives them room to be honest.
What concerns me most about this conversation is what it could mean for the next generation of critics and artists.
Many students are entering industries in which our work will be evaluated publicly. We will write articles that people disagree with, perform in productions that receive mixed reviews, and create projects that do not resonate with every audience.
There is also a danger for young journalists. If every unfavorable review carries the possibility of being publicly framed as discriminatory, even when the criticism concerns technique, execution or artistic cohesion, writers may become hesitant to express meaningful opinions.
That hesitation could produce a culture of increasingly vague reviews, where every production is ambitious, every performer is talented, and every creative choice is celebrated regardless of whether it works.
If everything is worth praising, then what does praise even mean anymore?
I am not saying we should revert back to critics being able to write whatever thought pops into their minds. I am asking if we can start picking our battles and being open to the idea that not everything someone says is a personal attack.
One commenter alluded to the fact that if the writer can critique the show, then the readers of this piece can critique that article, and that is a hundred percent valid. We should question when journalism relies on sexist stereotypes, personal humiliation or lazy assumptions. Because that’s just poor journalism.
But we also need to recognize that describing a performance as melodramatic, questioning a director’s vision, or arguing that a production fell short are legitimate parts of artistic criticism.
Critics are not always right. The review is an opinion piece, which people seem to forget. Readers and performers have every right to challenge it, but disagreement should invite conversation rather than automatically becoming an accusation about someone’s character.
As someone interested in both journalism and the arts, I want to enter a creative landscape where both artists and critics are respected, and the tension between the two is fun, passionate, and loving.
Those goals should not be mutually exclusive.
The conversation surrounding Temple’s Macbeth review left me thinking less about the production itself and more about whether our generation is prepared to engage with criticism that doesn’t flatter us.
Because if we want to be taken seriously as artists, writers, and creative professionals, we must make room for the possibility that someone might thoughtfully, respectfully and publicly believe our work could have been better.
Art deserves to be taken seriously. And sometimes, taking art seriously means being willing to criticize it.