“My expectations were low, and I have to say they were met…” 

A negative review can serve numerous functions. 

Most obviously, it can help the public avoid chucking their hard-earned money away. And, in some cases, it can be more entertaining than the actual work being reviewed.

That was the case in May 2010, when Britain’s most high-profile film critic took aim at Sex and the City 2.

The odds on Mark Kermode lapping up Carrie Bradshaw’s second cinematic outing were long considering his description of the first was “morally bankrupt and vacuous”, but no-one was prepared for a 10-minute rant that took in exasperated gesticulations, a description of the four lead characters as “imperialist American pigdogs” and almost certainly the only rendition of socialist anthem ‘The Internationale’ on BBC Radio 5 Live that week.

A horrified Kermode calling Carrie’s adventures “consumerist pornography” and “an orgy of dripping wealth that made me want to be sick” would make it my all-time favourite piece of criticism, were it not for Observer restaurant critic Jay Rayner’s 2014 review of Pizza Hut’s large double pepperoni pizza with cheeseburger crust.

Eight years later, it remains hard to shake the image of “the fat-soaked dough, the wretched insult of the cheese sputum, and a general air of desperation and regret”. 

Kermode’s review went viral, with 1.27 million views to date, and is still frequently referenced more than 12 years on.

His positive review of Christopher Nolan’s epic Inception that same year, by way of comparison, has chalked up a mere 228,603 views. There’s clearly an appetite for negative reviews when they’re passionate and entertaining, as opposed to just lazy hit jobs. 

I spoke to film and music journalist Jules Boyle, who believes there is value in reviews that are less than glowing.

He told me: “Reviews don’t need to be constructive. They just need to be interesting and/or informative.”

Social media, you’ll be shocked to hear, isn’t always so open-minded. If you’re looking for proof, wait until the next blockbuster Marvel movie is released and write a negative review. Then change your address and throw your phone into the sea.

Boyle - a huge comic book aficionado - was on the receiving end when he dared to criticise DC Comics’ Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice in 2016.

“The public pile-ons and DMs from all across the world just didn’t stop for a good few weeks”, he explained.

“I was accused of having an agenda, not knowing the source material, being a DC hater and a Marvel fanboy.”

2016’s Florence Foster Jenkins tells the true story of a 1940s New York socialite played by Meryl Streep, who mistakenly believes she sings well enough to perform at Carnegie Hall.

Her companion St. Clair Bayfield, depicted by Hugh Grant, bribes reviewers to keep the truth of her off-key caterwauling a secret.

When a New York Post critic proves unwilling to sugarcoat it, Jenkins’ is horrified to discover how others see her. That review might not have made for pleasant reading, but it was the only honest one, and the shock she suffered would have been far less significant had those other reviewers not been bought off. 

Critics are paid to express honest opinions. If every review was positive, reviews would cease to have any meaning. It’s like asking your mum if you were good in the school play. She’s not going to say ‘actually, I felt your delivery was stilted and found your performance a bit one-note'. 

In 1997, Oasis released long-awaited third album Be Here Now to a flurry of five-star reviews. Looking back 25 years later, it’s a patchy, unhinged album with zero quality control made by people too powerful to be told ‘that’s probably not a good idea’ by the flunkies around them. 

That power extended to the music press. Oasis sold so many records and were such an integral part of the boozy, drug-fuelled lives of music journos that few were willing or even able to see the album for what it was. Critics either lied to the public to keep Oasis on side and not lose access to the band, or lied to themselves to keep the dream alive.

Paul Lester of music magazine Uncut was among those who sang its praises, and in 2016 he told the Guardian: “I was caught up in the excitement of it all. I’m so sorry to everybody for that review, but the enormity of it was captivating… You felt awed into submission.”

You can feel bemused when a reviewer slaughters something you love, but if the review is honest, illuminating and entertaining its existence is justified. 

The worst reviews don’t change a note of the song or a line of the film. The art still stands, for better or worse.

As Florence Foster Jenkins put it, “people may say I can’t sing, but no-one can ever say I didn’t sing”. 

‘In Defence of Critics’ by Adam Miller (Glasgow Times)

Miller’s premise is intriguing, but a promising start soon devolves into an unfocused mess, culminating in a self-indulgent fake review of his own column. 2 stars.