There are films that make you want to run to the bookstore or, in reality, Amazon.com. Any Jane Austen or Dickens adaptation. Atonement. Requiem for a Dream perhaps. Then there is Paul Thomas Anderson's adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's Inherent Vice.
Critics are cultural historians of a sort, trying to tie the present to the past. Audiences, however, apparently don't give a rip. Or, at least, the audience that seem to matter most now, people in their 30s or younger.