Wednesday, 16 February 2005 | Hype

Let's say there was a movie that you saw and liked, and that you wouldn't necessarily think to be critical of it because it was entertaining and aesthetically pleasing. But then everyone you know (and everyone you don't know) kept talking about how incredible and amazing it was, and how it left them breathless! Newspapers and weblogs and subway riders can't get enough of it! It has changed the face of film forever! And all of this talk makes you wonder if you actually saw the same movie that everyone else did, or, worse, it makes you wonder if you are too shallow or too literal to see the beauty of it. All of the hype is confusing to you. Had there been less hype, however, you feel confident you would've found the movie pretty cool. (You also wonder why hype should affect your opinion at all.)

The most impressive feature of The Gates is that they're so prevalent—rows of orange, fluttering guillotines stretching into the distance, calling attention to the slope of the landscape, and to themselves. They look something like the wickets of a croquet game, but a version made for giants.

The best thing about them, I think, is their ability to summon thousands of people to a common spot at a common time. Kind of like a huge concert, except that the draw comes in the form of plastic and cloth (rather than chord-playing humans), and the fans wander around like Alice, gripping their cameras and pointing in every direction. (And saying things like, "Stunning!" and "Magnifique!")