Recently, I took to re-watching LIFE ITSELF.
It was in the late '90s when I first began to read this critic on a regular basis -- his reviews and later his "Movie Answer Man" columns. I was a faithful reader, and the news of his death brought tears to my eyes. (Neither before nor since have I ever gotten teary eyed over a media personality or celebrity.)
I never knew or even met this man, although I did manage to catch a glimpse of him in person at one of the Toronto International Film Festivals back in the early Aughts. Had I the opportunity to have met him, it would have been at the time one of the highlights of my life.
I am older now and understand that Roger Ebert was human just like the rest of us. As this biopic relates, he had his personality flaws. Yet to this day Mr. Ebert remains a favorite writer of mine. His reviews I still read, as do the memoirs which this film is in part based on.
As an aside, I never understood the reason for a *professional* film critic and consider the occupation to be somewhat elitist and hence overrated. The writings of the majority of paid movie reviewers I've always found to be somewhat on the cerebral and pretentious side -- too detached, rambling, and analytical. Roger's crisply written reviews, on the other hand, had an emotional depth and warmth which appealed to me.
As LIFE ITSELF reveals, Roger would sometimes mingle and befriend actors of the very movies that it was his job to review. Not everyone in his line of work had thought this smart of him.
He got married, for the first time, at the age of 50. His father was an electrician. Interestingly, Roger did not set out to become a film critic, but fell into the job, very early in his writing career. These are just some of the bits of trivia about the subject which are brought out in this affecting documentary tribute, that I like to watch on an annual basis.
Incidentally, as one of Roger's faithful readers, I never read his reviews in order to be influenced by them. In fact, quite a number of his favorable and panned reviews I happen to disagree with. For me, he was a brilliant writer, first and foremost. For all I care, he could have been a culinary critic and I would have still consumed his writings, regardless, even though I'm not a foodie.
LIFE ITSELF brings out the nostalgic side in me. I will always remember Roger for those articulate and insightful reviews of his which long ago introduced me to a whole new world of cinema, in the way of independent and foreign-language films. Up until that time, I'd been unaware that there was more to celluloid than just contrived big grossers, which often left me bored and which to this day I avoid at all costs.
Admittedly, the TV show that Ebert was a co-host of might have played to the gallery, but anyone who followed him in print felt more in the textual presence of a great wise man than a mere film critic into telegenic thumbing.
A final word: I would have given this film a full 10-star rating but for the non-appearance of Richard Roeper; conspicuous by his absence, and a curious if not inexcusable omission on the part of the director.
It was in the late '90s when I first began to read this critic on a regular basis -- his reviews and later his "Movie Answer Man" columns. I was a faithful reader, and the news of his death brought tears to my eyes. (Neither before nor since have I ever gotten teary eyed over a media personality or celebrity.)
I never knew or even met this man, although I did manage to catch a glimpse of him in person at one of the Toronto International Film Festivals back in the early Aughts. Had I the opportunity to have met him, it would have been at the time one of the highlights of my life.
I am older now and understand that Roger Ebert was human just like the rest of us. As this biopic relates, he had his personality flaws. Yet to this day Mr. Ebert remains a favorite writer of mine. His reviews I still read, as do the memoirs which this film is in part based on.
As an aside, I never understood the reason for a *professional* film critic and consider the occupation to be somewhat elitist and hence overrated. The writings of the majority of paid movie reviewers I've always found to be somewhat on the cerebral and pretentious side -- too detached, rambling, and analytical. Roger's crisply written reviews, on the other hand, had an emotional depth and warmth which appealed to me.
As LIFE ITSELF reveals, Roger would sometimes mingle and befriend actors of the very movies that it was his job to review. Not everyone in his line of work had thought this smart of him.
He got married, for the first time, at the age of 50. His father was an electrician. Interestingly, Roger did not set out to become a film critic, but fell into the job, very early in his writing career. These are just some of the bits of trivia about the subject which are brought out in this affecting documentary tribute, that I like to watch on an annual basis.
Incidentally, as one of Roger's faithful readers, I never read his reviews in order to be influenced by them. In fact, quite a number of his favorable and panned reviews I happen to disagree with. For me, he was a brilliant writer, first and foremost. For all I care, he could have been a culinary critic and I would have still consumed his writings, regardless, even though I'm not a foodie.
LIFE ITSELF brings out the nostalgic side in me. I will always remember Roger for those articulate and insightful reviews of his which long ago introduced me to a whole new world of cinema, in the way of independent and foreign-language films. Up until that time, I'd been unaware that there was more to celluloid than just contrived big grossers, which often left me bored and which to this day I avoid at all costs.
Admittedly, the TV show that Ebert was a co-host of might have played to the gallery, but anyone who followed him in print felt more in the textual presence of a great wise man than a mere film critic into telegenic thumbing.
A final word: I would have given this film a full 10-star rating but for the non-appearance of Richard Roeper; conspicuous by his absence, and a curious if not inexcusable omission on the part of the director.