Roger Ebert: A Personal Tribute
schadenfreude and whose purpose is increasingly non-existent in the internet age. All of which makes Roger Eberts recent death at the age of 70 all the more tragic and remarkable. Ive written many obituaries to famous film figures on my blog, Mumby at the Movies. Whenever the need to pay tribute arises, I always attempt to explain how the individual in question has impacted on me personally, to make the whole experience a little less prone to platitude. With Roger Ebert, I find myself at a complete loss in doing so. Not because the man left no impression on me (quite the opposite), but because it is impossible to describe Ebert's career and achievements without resorting to some form of hyperbole. Whether youre talking about his written reviews, his partnership with Gene Siskel or his battle with cancer, you cannot help but praise the man with the same passion he expressed in each and every review. Perhaps that is the biggest vindication of his legacy: we cannot talk about him without in some way channelling or reflecting him. I first became aware of Eberts work in 2007, when I was a first-year student at Warwick University with a burgeoning interest in film. I say his work rather than him, since the name Roger Ebert had been bandied around for as long as I was aware that cinema existed. I had gotten so used to seeing him on DVD covers, with or without the two thumbs up!, that I had grown to accept him as some kind of all-encompassing authority on film. Iin short, his reputation preceded him by quite some distance.
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Following my golden rule of never judging anything by its reputation, I began reading his reviews and watching clips from At The Movies on YouTube in the middle of my first-year exams. While the jury is still out on the impact this had on my grades, watching Siskel and Ebert go head to head on that famous balcony left a really big impression on me. Ebert helped to convince me that a medium in which I had shown little interest as a teenager could be every bit as intriguing, complex and ambitious as my first love, the theatre. Ive taken notes from and been influenced by many critics. Mark Kermode is largely responsible for my interest in horror, Alexander Walker refined my appreciation for Stanley Kubrick, and internet critics like Nash Bozard and JesuOtaku opened up whole worlds of popular culture that I never knew existed. But while all these individuals have or had their own specific and particular passions, Ebert loved the medium of cinema itself, seeking to embrace, appreciate and understand its every twist and turn. Ebert casts a huge shadow on the critical landscape because his passion for cinema knew no bounds. He was never dismissive or disapproving of a given genre without taking time to consider the merits of individual films therein. He had a sense of integrity that is all too rare in journalists, being thorough in everything he did and always being man enough to admit his mistakes, on the few occasions that he made them. He was never proud, or snobbish, or arrogant; he just knew what he liked, and he had the arguments to capably support it. I wont pretend to have agreed with everything that Ebert said. He was disappointed by Harold and Maude, while I found it really charming. He was won over by Zero Dark Thirty; I thought it was cold and tedious. But even in the moments where I deeply disagreed with his opinion, there was an underlying sense of admiration for the man. I recognised that he had not just come to that conclusion on impulse, or from a desire to gain new readers through shock value. Every review had taken careful consideration, and even after all these years he was still finding new ways to write about the new releases. As much as he loved cinema, Ebert had his fair share of concerns about where he felt the medium was heading. Many of his recent blog entries had a very downbeat tone, counterpointing his seemingly endless optimism surrounding his own health. Ebert seemed confident that he would endure in some form, but that the medium to which he had dedicated his life was being slowly eroded by a chronic lack of ambition and curiosity, reinforced by the risk aversion of Hollywood and the failings of US education. Eberts passing is an opportunity for us to take stock about our film culture, particularly the balance of power between the PR machine of the studios and the critical voices that monitor social trends and dole out advice. Im not asking for things to go back to the way they were when Ebert started writing for The Chicago Sun Times; the internet has changed the landscape of publishing and reviewing for good (and bad). Nor do I say this out of concern for my own livelihood I make no money from my blog, or these articles. All I worry is that we are in danger of eroding and devaluing that which Ebert held most dear cinema that can challenge and enthral you in equal measure, and which rewards the passion and curiosity of its many patrons.
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You may pay tribute to Eberts work in whichever way you choose marathoning At The Movies, enjoying his and Siskels appearance in The Critic, even tracking down a copy of Russ Meyers Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, for which his wrote the screenplay. But even as we enjoy his work and celebrate his memory, we should be watchful of the film culture in which we find ourselves, even mindful of the need for passions as strong as his that refuse to just lie down and accept mediocrity. The balcony may now be closed; dont let the rest go with it. RIP.