Let's be honest, here. Roger Ebert is the godfather of the thumb, he started the stars, and brought reviews to your television with "At the Movies with Siskel and Ebert." In short, he mainstreamed film criticism. For years I have avoided admitting that he is not, technically, a film critic. At least not in the Cahiers du Cinema sense. Those were the guys who changed the face of film in its toddler years, from a low form of entertainment considered worthy of only the lowest class (which was considered to be immigrants, mostly), to an art form which merits as much serious study and analysis as the highest literature, and they did it all solely through the power of their prose.
Today, however, beyond universities and high brow film circles, you'd be hard pressed to find a true critique of a film. One which does not simply summarize the plot enough to pique our interest and then conclude with a quick, "yes, you should see this" or "no you shouldn't". Those are reviews. A critique delves into the depths and complexities of a film. It takes the film shot by shot, line by line, moment by moment and pays it the respect of examining its symbolism and figuring out what it is trying to say and how it relates to us, to our culture, society, and psyche. Critiques are the kind of thing that make my heart pound with excitement. In school I used to sneak down to the basement of the library where the film magazines were kept, and curl up to read about such insights as the symbolism of the landscape and the real meaning behind the title of Gerry. So called "critics" summed that movie up in 2 1/2 - 3 stars and a one-page summary, but the writer in this magazine devoted pages and pages to its visual symbolism and cultural significance. They couldn't care less whether mainstream America would enjoy the film. They wanted to know what it meant to us, as people, as a society, and to the art of filmmaking as a whole. That is what a critic is meant to do.
Roger Ebert will be the first to jump into this discussion of film criticism, and to defend his techniques to the ground, while joining in with my laments about the transformation of what is commonly considered film "criticism." He does so famously in a thought-provoking debate with Richard Corliss in Ebert's book "Awake in the Dark".
But it was Ebert, after all, who started assigning thumbs to films. And yet, I love the man. I always have. I credit him with nurturing my fragile and uncertain love for film in high school, and turning it into a full-blown obsession in college. He has a true love for film and writes with such passion that even when I'm my most angry at him (4 stars to Avatar, really, Roger?), I still can't deny that Roger Ebert does, and always will, hold a special place in my heart. His book, "Awake in the Dark," which is a compilation of some of his best reviews and articles, is one of my favorite books of all time. Something I turn to whenever I need to feel re-inspired, or simply want to nestle into the comforts of a friend also who shares my deep love of this art form. If you are one of the many who saw Citizen Cane and wondered, "What's the big deal?" try watching it a second time, with Roger Ebert's audio commentary. Talk about falling in love with a film.
I once saw Roger Ebert in person at a film festival. My dad and I walked behind him all the way to our next theater, and the whole time I shook with nervousness, furiously debating with myself whether or not to talk to him. In the end, I didn't, and I now regret it. This is a man who has shared his love of film with America for decades in a way no one else, in my mind, has been able to match. Yes, he contributed to the mainstreaming of film "criticism," but he is also responsible for helping thousands of people fall in love with the movies.
Really, though, this long entry is actually a bit of a tangent, inspired by an article I read by Roger Ebert today. Some of you may know that Roger Ebert has been going through serious health issues the last few years, which has left him unable, now, to speak, eat, or drink. But his pen (or, keyboard, I suppose) has lost none of its strength or passion. This article is not a review of a film. In fact, it hardly mentions the movies at all. Rather, this one is a very personal article, just about Roger Ebert himself. And it's a beautiful example of why I love the man so much: for the charm, humor, and depth of his prose, for his undying positive spirit, and for the way he writes as though to a friend. I would certainly recommend reading it:
(If you're looking to read some of the critiques I alluded to, that can't be found in your daily newspaper or on-line blog, there are a few great film magazines:
"Film Quarterly" is my personal favorite. Others include "Film Comment," "The Velvet Light Trap" and "Film Criticism." Most easily found at your library.
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