It’s OK, darlin’, I still love you.

Don’t worry, this isn’t about any personal Valentine’s Day massacres. But another snub has come perilously close to breaking plenty of hearts: “Almost Famous” was shut out of the Best Picture nominations for the 2001 Academy Awards while “Gladiator” gleams with a favorite’s glow.

Considering all the bombings, famine and gunshots, one should be thankful to care so much about a silly little awards show.

But the ever-brightening spotlight on arts and entertainment has uncovered a startling difference between the critical darling and the pop culture icon. The gap grows even wider between critics and the general population, with awards shows caught in the figurative crossfire.

Gladiator grossed more than $200 million to the thrills of an audience in need of some bloody fight scenes and the hunky Russell Crowe. The movie’s fun, but the critic would look for the “deeper meaning,” usually described in some bad cliche like “Crowe cuts straight to the heart of his adoring fans.” Critics love bad puns.

But even more, critics love Cameron Crowe’s “Almost Famous,” a loving and cerebral tale of a young rock-and-roll reporter. The movie has joined the pantheon of ignored but critically acclaimed work like the television show “Freaks and Geeks” and music by the likes of Pavement.

Ask a person on the street, though, and they wouldn’t know singer Stephen Malkmus from “Malcolm in the Middle.” Despite the artistic credibility of this exclusive club, the gap widens between the critic and the troves of people with disposable income.

The past two weekends have afforded me the chance to hear two entertainment critics hypothesize about their chosen profession. A trip to Chicago featured Roger Ebert, the well-known star of the Chicago Sun Times and a syndicated television show. His arguments were followed the week after in New York by Matt Seitz, a television critic who hasn’t been parodied on “Saturday Night Live” but still is a Pulitzer Prize finalist with the Newark Star-Ledger.

While Ebert reveled in his vast knowledge and educated opinion, Seitz focused more on the writing and connecting with each entertainment product.

While Ebert personifies the superstar critic who can offer the great soundbyte, Seitz connects with the reader on a greater level.

Thumbs, stars, rotten tomatoes and grades all quantify what we think of movies. But to measure the enjoyment gained from a movie takes a much more

complicated formula, one that requires the public’s pulse.

Ebert has listed the coming-of-age story “Almost Famous” as his favorite movie of 2000. Unfortunately, about 11 people (including myself) saw the film, and most of those people traipsed into the wrong theater on the way to Keanu Reeves’ blah “The Watcher.”

While critics pay attention to the intricacies that contribute to the art, the people want the decent story and a good time. Most of the time, lighting has nothing to do with that, but many critics are too far away to understand. Although Ebert is notorious for mostly good reviews, he can love the obscure and lambaste the wonderfully popular “Charlie’s Angels.”

The overall effect is a decrease in importance for our fair critics, even though the media coverage for entertainment increases by leaps and bounds.

“Who cares if the square critic hates that new Tom Green movie — I bet he’ll put something crazy in his mouth.”

This isn’t a realization that makes me feel all rosy inside as a dorky connoisseur of criticism. The art of complex criticism sometimes rivals the original material. Through words and theories, the critic can examine art and provide insight into society as a whole. But that means getting off the cushy critic couch, stopping that wonderful critic hobnobbing and experiencing the society he is criticizing.

What we are left with, then, are the oft-ignored reviews of truly excellent fare, like “Almost Famous,” because reader connections with reviewers fades away. That’s sad … definitely two thumbs down.