The hashtag meme #teamInsertPerson’sNameHere — to convey firm endorsement — is perhaps, like everything on Twitter, utterly reductive and destructive to any kind of nuanced discourse. It’s a black-and-white, you’re either for or against, with no other options, and it's often used in the favor of auteurs or anyone receiving a critical bashing (“I don’t care what anyone thinks, I’m #teamPaulW.S.Anderson”). That said, despite an uneven career trajectory in recent years (including an ill-conceived attack on A.O. Scott), if forced to choose, I would avow myself as member of #teamSpikeLee. If the director was a mayor, I wouldn’t love all his policies, but I’d vote for the guy. If he was a sports team, I may grow tired of the losses and head-scratching plays, but I’d still root for the man.
Which brings us to his latest, “Da Sweet Blood Of Jesus," a disappointing, disjointed, gaudily campy, and ill-conceived folly (and off the back of the unfortunate remake of...
