Roger Ebert Moves Beyond Movies
For my generation - the one that watched Sneak Previews on PBS in the seventies and eighties - Roger Ebert attained a trustworthiness not ordinarily rewarded to critics. Although surrounded by snobs, Ebert himself was never snobbish. I mean, the guy wrote Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, for cryin' out loud. We knew he was one of us, an average movie lover who just happened to get paid for his opinion. His opinion often reflected our own. One of the great joys of his show with Gene Siskel was the fact that Ebert's thoughtful everyman persona collided so beautifully with Siskel's passionate snob. Their viewpoints often struck at the divisive fulcrum that film creates; art versus commerce, intellectual versus common, complexities versus simple joys. We always knew where Ebert would fall, and he often felt like the protector of our shared love of film, railing against the tyranny of cynicism that Siskel often exuded. Throughout the years Ebert defined film criticism, even if it was simply with a flick of his famous thumb. His thoughtful reviews earned Pulitzers, and he grew older with us, sharpening his intellect while still retaining his enthusiasm. And, as time went on, Ebert had the opportunity to give us more than simply his opinion about movies; he taught us about life. He taught us the value of loyalty and deep friendship when his partner Siskel died in 1999 by removing the curtain of vitriol they publicly displayed and showing the real love they had for each other. Ebert carried on with the show without him, but he never seemed quite the same. Then, Ebert taught others how to cope with serious illness when he repeatedly fought cancer while in the public eye. It must have been humiliating and difficult to attempt, but Ebert believed in what he was doing so much that his own personal comfort came second.