Christy Lemire wrote me: "So, everyone seems pretty moved by the Esquire piece on you, but I'm wondering what you thought about it. It's so intimate, personal."
Yeah, it was, wasn't it? It was also well written, I thought. When I turned to it in the magazine, I got a jolt from the full-page photograph of my jaw drooping. Not a lovely sight. But then I am not a lovely sight, and in a moment I thought, well, what the hell. It's just as well it's out there. That's how I look, after all.
It was an inexplicable instinct that led me to agree when Chris Jones contacted me requesting an interview. The idea of Esquire appealed to me. I did a bunch of interviews for them in the 1970s, when it was the crucible of the New Journalism.
What goes around, comes around. I'd read some of Chris's stuff. He's good. You sense the person there. He's not holding his subjects at arm's length. I knew I'd have to play fair. I've done interviews for years. This was no time to get sensitive and ask for photo approval, or an advance look at the piece. I'd been the goose, and now it was my turn to be the gander. I've never known what that means, geese-wise.
Chaz is always my protector. She had her doubts. She worries that I'm too impulsive and trusting. She is correct. Left entirely to my own devices, god knows what I might be capable of. She would follow me into the mouth of a cannon, but first she'd say, "Do you really think it's a good idea to crawl into that cannon?" Then I would explain that it was my duty as a journalist, a film critic, a liberal, or a human being, etc., to crawl into the cannon. And she'd suggest I sleep on it and crawl into the cannon fresh and early in the morning.
"Did you really have to write all those Tweets about Rush Limbaugh?" she asked me one day. "He's a sick man. What if people had written about you that way when you were in the hospital?""That would be their right," I said heroically. "Besides, he said he was fine."
"And you wouldn't care what they said about you?"
"Resentment is allowing someone to live rent-free in a room in your head," I intoned. That line isn't original with me. It may have originated with her.
The next morning I woke up bright and early and tweeted an apology to Rush Limbaugh. Anyway, Chaz wondered if I really thought it was a good idea to invite Chris Jones or anyone else do to an interview that would involve being followed around and observed informally. I said I sensed he wasn't looking for a kill but just wanted to write a good article. He was a real writer. We talked about it. I knew he was coming when Chaz started in with the house cleaning.
Chris Jones was an awfully nice man. He told us he lives in Ottawa, was teaching journalism at the University of Montana, and is married with two kids. So that tells you something. Well, it tells me something. I can't put it into words, but if the same man is also a senior writer for Esquire, he's my man. He arrived at the appointed hour, and he did an excellent job of describing everything that happened subsequently.Actually, he left some things out. As our library was being cleaned, I noticed for the first time in some years the bound albums of our wedding photos sitting out. That lodged in my mind. When Chris was about to arrive and I was a little nervous, I told Chaz, "for God's sake, don't start showing him our wedding photos! That will make us look bourgeois." She looked at me in disbelief. "What makes you think I would ever show him our wedding photos?" I explained that because I had seen the albums sitting out, et cetera...I assumed, et cetera...and then he arrived.
He hadn't been in the house half an hour before the conversation turned to Gene Siskel. I said what a close friend he had been, apart from our fights and feuds and the rest of it, which were real, but didn't dislodge our friendship. "His daughters were even the flower girls at our wedding," I said. "Chaz, show Chris our wedding photos." She looked at me like the eighth wonder of the world.
A little later I was telling Chris that Siskel was secretive and I was the opposite, always blurting out what I should shut up about. "He said my middle names should be Full Disclosure." This started Chaz to laughing and in the spirit of Full Disclosure she blurted out my dire warning to her about the wedding photos.
Well, that was okay with me, actually. My theory was that if Chris had an article to write it was not my place to write it for him as a favorable press release about myself. Let him write what he observed. Oliver Cromwell is said to have commissioned an official painting of himself, "warts and all." He apparently never said any such thing, was misquoted a century after his death, and his official portrait showed no warts, but never mind: He should have said it.
The best interview I ever wrote was for Esquire. It was told almost entirely in dialog, and involved an afternoon I spent with Lee Marvin at his beach house in Malibu. He spent much effort ordering in fresh supplies of Heineken's. I took faithful notes, sent the piece in, and waited for the shit to hit the fan. Esquire ran it with a headline something like, An afternoon with Lee F---ing Marvin. They used dashes in those days. I never heard a word from Marvin.A few years later, I interviewed Marvin in his house outside Tucson. I observed he was not drinking. "I'm alive, aren't I?"He said. I said I didn't know if he would want to talk with me after the Esquire piece. He had married again a few years earlier, a girl he'd been in love with before he went off to the Marines. She started laughing. "That was Lee," she said. Marvin lit a cigarette.
That's all you can really ask: For Chaz to be able to read the article and say it was about me. It was. By and large, it was a faithful account of what happened over the course of two days and evenings. The errors were few, small and understandable.I knew going in that a lot of the article would be about my surgeries and their aftermath. Let's face it. Esquire wouldn't have assigned an article if I were still in good health. Their cover line was the hook: Roger Ebert's Last Words. A good head. Whoever wrote that knew what they were doing. I was a little surprised at the detail the article went into about the nature and extent of my wounds and the realities of my appearance, but what the hell. It was true. I didn't need polite fictions.
One strange result was that many people got the idea that these were my dying words. The line Chaz liked least referred to the time he has left. A blog reader said he hadn't realized I was so frail. Here's how Romenesko's Media News linked the item:
Well, we're all dying in increments. I don't mind people knowing what I look like, but I don't want them thinking I'm dying. To be fair, Chris Jones never said I was. If he took a certain elegiac tone, you know what? I might have, too. And if he structured his elements into a story arc, that's just good writing. He wasn't precisely an eyewitness the second evening after Chaz had gone off to bed and I was streaming Radio Caroline and writing late into the night. But that's what I did. It may be, the more interviews you've done, the more you appreciate a good one. I knew exactly what he started with, and I could see where he ended, and he can be proud of the piece.I mentioned that it was sort of a relief to have that full-page photo of my face. Yes, I winced. What I hated most was that my hair was so neatly combed. Running it that big was good journalism. It made you want to read the article.
I studiously avoid looking at myself in a mirror. It would not be productive. If we think we have physical imperfections, obsessing about them is only destructive. Low self-esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you. That means they're living upstairs in the rent-free room.
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The Chris Jones article in Esquire.
•My Esquire interview with Lee F---ing Marvin..
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The New York Times review of Chris Jones's "Too Far From Home: A Story of Life and Death in Space," by Janet Maslin.
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All the solo photos of me were taken by Ethan Hill. Copyright © 2010 by Esquire magazine.
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I really enjoyed the interview for the fact that it did feel honest - not too "puffy" and not too "poor Roger" either.
I continue to appreciate all the writing that you do, and I would agree that in the last few years there is a different air to the writing that I can't quite describe.
Through it all the best thing you do, Mr. Ebert, is show your passion through everything that you still give to the world. Thanks for that.
I hope you realize that almost all of us can hear your voice in your writing; all of that time with you in our living rooms means your sounds are heard by us without you using your vocal cords. Familiarity and respect also let others take up room in our minds rent-free.
I think the Esquire article was not only beautiful, but for me, emotional. I don't cry ever, but reading the article and being a reader of your blog led me to tears. It had nothing to do with sadness or dying (because you're right, we're all dying in increments), but some innate emotion that reminded me of how incredibly awesome and raw real life is. If that's cheesy, so be it!
I'm a huge fan, and an equal lover of Steak-n-Shake, especially the chili mac supreme with a side of cheese fries.
Thank you for sharing that part of yourself!
I have been sitting up late reading through your blog, which I was fortunate enough to have had brought to my attention some months ago. It is some of the best writing out there, period. I have also just read the Esquire piece and felt very blessed to have had Chris Jones bring out even more of you to your readers. It moved me, but not out of pity. What you said in that article were words of wisdom, not easily attained, and which have brought great comfort to me, and I trust to many others. Thank you for bringing so much light to the world.
Thank you for this follow-up to the Chris Jones interview. I admit I cried when I read the Esquire interview-not because of the pain but because of the beauty. I don't find your face hard to look at. I don't even think about your physical appearance any more now than I ever did. I read your words, the movie reviews, the tweets, and I value what you say because it is wise and funny and truthful. Your left-over words would be another man's nobel effort. So thank you for your honesty and willingness to be seen, as well as heard.
I confess Roger, that I did cry over that article in Esquire, it was just wonderfully written and it really conveyed the perception of you I've always had, that you are a strong man with great opinions. Just wanted to say you're my hero Ebert, as a small little movie reviewer for a little read magazine on youth and seniors in Vancouver, I want to thank you for writing all your reviews that have inspired me to think a bit more about the films I'm watching!
Through the Suntimes and television you have been my unofficial film professor for 25 years. Your transparency and tendency towards "full disclosure" has greatly increased my love for the cinema. I look forward to reading the article. Thank You.
The article did make me a bit sad - especially the bit about Gene and how you described your relationship. But mainly I felt proud to be a frequenter of this blog. I'm glad you accepted the interview. The most encouraging bit for me was when Jones mentioned that all you critics are on the lookout for younger critics.
I would be very pleased with this article. It portrayed you rather heroically: confronting your problems stoically, dutifully scribbling down wisdom for the benefit of us all. Your blog is a treasure, I'm sure I will look back on it in the future when I am confronting my own mortality.
What shocks me is how many read the article as depressing. I linked it on the ol' facebook page, and a buddy replied:"Thanks, now I am off to kill myself." Even without my sentimental goggles on, I know you're doing your best work right now, and this blog is a huge blessing. You're the only media personality I check on everyday, and it's in spite of your recent drama, not because of it.
I thought it was a well-written, and touching, piece; but I, too, noted that people picked up on the "dying in increments" bit. As you say, we're all dying in increments. It's not like one is the embodiment of pysical perfection one day, and then in the sweet bosom of Heli the next.
That I have managed to work in a reference from Norse Mythology makes me proud...
I'm sure I'm not the only person to think Chris Jones wrote a wonderful article about a wonderful writer.
I have had hours of pleasure reading your blog that has brought to life vivid characters and amazing films.
Please keep on writing so I can keep on reading.
I loved the article, it was definitely full of terrific writing. However, after reading your own blog and reviews for some time now, I realized that the tone the article took was a little off. To me, it felt depressing and pessimistic when it should have been more inspiring and optimistic. You never show any negativity in your voice (your writing). Nevertheless, it was a fascinating look into your life and well worth a read.
I give it a thumbs up!
Very good article on you and your life nowadays in Esquire. The picture was a little jarring to me at first glance as well and really brought home to me what you, Ms. Chaz, and the rest of your friends and family have dealt with the past years. I'm a little spoiled because I hit your site daily to read new and old reviews as well as this journal so knowing in greater detail now the physical difficulties you deal with daily while churning out high quality work is definitely a testament to you as a writer, a person, and a fighter.
Keep it going because you're doing what a writer is supposed to do...write. You keep doing that and I'll keep reading while we all die in our own increments.
PS. I hear your words in my mind in your voice so it hasn't been lost to this reader.
I have admired you for years (yes, years). I greatly enjoy and appreciate your criticism and now your tweets and blog entries. And I think your honesty respecting your personal situation is a rare yet honorable thing. Thank you for that honesty and your wisdom freely shared.
Best regards!
As a photographer, its hard to get people to sit for you when they know the photo will be less than glamorous. When you're wanting to show the real person, people get scared. When I find someone willing to be put under that much scrutiny.. Shown with beauty and flaws alike. I can do nothing more than be in awe. I admire these people so much for letting me and anyone else into their lives. The piece about Robert was touching and honest. Its shows him in a light that I would of never known otherwise, and made me a great admirer.
Thank you Robert for letting us in.
Roger,
I grew up in the Midwest watching you and Gene Siskel on televisions of varying forms, from medium black and white relics to small, economic color models. The image of a 7th grader watching two journalists talking about the fine points of movies he's too young to see may seem silly, but the image he got would last a lifetime.
Two regular looking, intelligent guys were systematically analyzing all parts of a film, including story, acting, and production, and disagreeing with each other on many points. No insults were hurled, no grudges held, no grand judgements of character. This was no cheap melodrama; this was, to my young mind, impassioned, smart, and mostly unstructured debate between two relaxed, learned gentlemen.
I read your interview today; the picture, along with your condition, struck me, as it must have struck other readers. Knowing the details of your situation is stunning. Knowing how you and your wife are dealing with them is amazing.
I'm glad as hell to have been given the chance to see that you're approaching this milestone with the same passion and intellect you exhibited in your public conversations with Mr. Siskel. Having the courage to show us who you are gives us courage, too.
Thank you.
A couple of days ago a friend of mine, knowing that I was a fan of yours, sent me the link to the Esquire interview. I was a little hesitant at first, especially after reading the headline. I was worried that the interview may be a bit exploitative in nature, and wanted to wait to see if you commented on it. I'm glad to hear that you enjoyed the piece, and I'm on my way to reading it right now.
Dear Roger: I just read your response re the Esquire piece---it is a lovely coda. Thank you. Karen A. Callaway P.S. I know the Journal is on your home page on the Sun-Times site, but I wish there was a way to become a fan of it, separately.
Ebert: You don't like my home page? Gasp. Just go directly here:
http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/
I'm sure this will be one of hundreds or thousands just like it, but reading the Esquire article yesterday was a strangely personal experience. In my high school years, which were not that long ago but seem so now, I gave myself an informal film education with the Great Movies essays. Those articles and my parents' goodwill was probably the only thing that prompted the maintenance of the Foreign and Classic sections at the Hollywood Video in my little section of Metro Detroit suburbia. Now, sex or seven years later, I am in a one year Master's program at the University of Chicago, and my education about film and its processes is much more formal and thorough. And yet, I read Mr. Jones' piece with more reverence and attention than any of my readings for class this year. I don't know if it's how Ebert has (very pleasantly) made himself a part of the critical narrative for so long, but the story of Roger Ebert's tribulations over the past few years prompted me to examine his role in my own maturation as a film lover (lover before scholar, no matter what degree I get).
Like I said, it's not terribly original, but I wanted to share it on here as well as I did on the film forums I haunt more frequently.
I think one of the reasons the article has resonated across the Internet is that for many people, you are the only movie critic they know. It scares people to think that someone they've known for so long could be dying, even though you are very much alive. Though you may be too humble to admit it, you are a cultural icon and a part of peoples' lives; you matter to people and even if you weren't sick, you'd have been article-worthy. I don't know if Esquire would have assigned it, in this era of journalism dominated by marketing and "what the audience wants," but I know people would have read it.
and may God bless you, sir. You have always been one of my favorite regular writers of any sort, not just because of the movie reviews, and in spite of your infuriatingly unilateral politics. My hat's off to Chaz, yourself, and this Jones fellow.
Cheers.
Thank you so much for doing the interview. I've been following you on twitter for awhile, and that combined with the interview has been a very uplifting and intellectually stimulating experience.
The quote you made about happiness and our job to spread it was extremely wise. Your candid reflection on your life and life as a whole is in my opinion sort of reminiscent of some of Bergman's writings about his life.
Thank you so much for everything.
Roger,
I liked the article, and appreciate the follow-up you have written, as I was very curious as to your reaction to it.
One thing is clear, you are at the top of your game right now as a writer, and that's saying something.
I envy you, I've dreamed of being able to write as well as you do since I was young; at 41, I still dream of it. I have a minor talent for asking the right questions in an interview that masks my lack of writing ability. I console myself with the theory that I have a few decades of self-improvement left :)
I was particularly interested in the passages re Gene. Before I missed you on TV, I missed you and Gene on TV.
My parents divorced when I was 11. Every other weekend with dad was naturally a strange experience at a traumatic time. Awkward. My dad is an intellectual, and we could only watch certain programs in his presence, growing up. PBS - Nova, etc. Classic movies. One of the strongest recollections of that time is watching your show on PBS on (Sunday?) afternoon with my dad at his condo. The rain dripping down outside (Seattle), and my brother and I discussing the show with dad; cozy and warm in his living room,eating a snack. And the inevitable, "Can we go see Tron next time? Will you take us to see Time Bandits?"
When interviewing musicians, etc., I sometimes ask about their awareness of their work's impact on their fans. And I'd ask the same of you. You've certainly impacted so many people in so many ways.
In closing, the irony that the Esquire piece brings to mind is that your absence from TV has steered folks like myself towards the joys of reading your articles. And, to tell the truth, if I had to choose between viewing your great TV work and reading your reviews and essays, I'd certainly choose the latter. What is that old saying about closing a door and opening a window?
ps. Disney can kiss my ass.
Dear Mr. Ebert-
When I first started reading this post, I was worried it might contain a litany of regrets about having done the Esquire interview. I was so heartened to see you took that unblinking look at your life in gentlemanly, generous stride.
It cannot be easy to open your home and heart to a mass publication like that, but I agree Jones' dramatic touches were crafted to achieve that "elegiac tone" you described.
I never took the piece as a maudlin, manipulated goodbye. Like you commented, we're all dying in increments. Sharing the physical hardships you've endured alongside the sturdy way you get on with the business of living is not just inspirational for others, it's sustaining. Everything in the piece presented you and Chaz as good, honest, intelligent, passionate people.
While segments of the profile were heartbreaking, I feel you've done a far-reaching mitzvah by sharing your experiences so transparently. Many will be touched and inspired to be better people.
The quote of yours in the piece about happiness, unhappiness and contributing joy to the world is one of the most poignant summaries of the essence of life I've read, rivaling your brilliant "Synecdoche, NY" review. I've printed out both on good, old-fashioned bond paper to save, reread, remind and savor.
The life's wisdom you've acquired and the eloquent way you share it is a real gift to the world, sir. Back in your "Sneak Preview" show days, you were a significant influence in fueling my love for movies. Now you've become a significant influence in fueling my love for life. You may be living in my head rent-free because of it, but I couldn't ask for a better tenant.
All the best,
Nictate
Thanks so much for asserting that the article was true and was you; and for your repeated mantraesque "what the hell," which reminds us of Mehitabel the Cat's "wotthehell archy wotthehell" and leads to "toujours gai" and "cheerio my deario." There's still a dance in the old dame yet, and lots of punch in the Pundit!
I would like to say that the piece Chris wrote was one of the best I've ever read. It came at the perfect time as I had just been discussing you and your writing to my friends the night before. I will be going out to buy the issue with Chris's story so I can tear out the pages, get them laminated, and keep it safe with my collection of movie ticket stubs. Thank you so much for agreeing to let him do the story.
Dear Roger,
First time commenter, longtime fan of your work. I'm a music journalist and I always enjoy reading and savoring your reviews, essays, and blogs. Like many here, I'm truly reveling in your "explosion of writing."
As for the Esquire piece, I initially thought Chris's detailing of your injuries was a bit much, but like you said, "that's just good writing." You rarely read such forthright and thoughtful words on someone in the public eye. There are sadly so many filters and skewed angles and counter-angles to battle with these days. (Man, I'm almost 26 and I sound like I'm Clint Eastwood grumping on his front porch in "Gran Torino.") Anyway, reading the piece felt like I was sitting down with you for those two days and evenings. Reading your thoughts on the article were equally enlightening. Thanks for letting us into your home my good man.
I had one hypothetical question... I know you've said that an autobiography is probably out of the question, but what do you think would be a fitting title?
P.S. - I'm a night owl too. Perhaps it's in a writer's DNA. :)
At least people won't think of you as "the fat one" anymore!
It was a really good article, by the way. Maybe a little too much like a eulogy, but hey, we should all be so lucky to read our eulogies.
Jaw, schmaw. It's been a verrrry long time since I was so turned on by a man (and I mean that partly sexually but, really, more spiritually, and I don't even believe in God). Chaz has excellent taste. Glad you're tweeting, etc. Glad we are alive at the same time. And--the dogs are howling again, here in Nowhere, AZ. Must attend to them. You're a wonder.
I found myself on the verge of tears upon reading the article, mainly because you've been such a great influence in my life. I am now in my second year of film school against my parent's wishes (still, they support me thank god), and you were the voice that made me choose this calling. The article is well written, but I worried for a whole day that you were slowly dying, every ten minutes the words "dying in increments" popped into my head and it kinda ruined my day. But I knew that you would put my mind at ease soon by writing something about the article, so thanks for this peace of mind. If I have a dream, it's that you review my first film someday, and your words make me think it might happen. There is work to be done in the field of film criticism, and there's no better man for the job than you, Sir.
Joey Muñoz, Tijuana México.
Mr. Ebert:
I read the Esquire article and I'm a big fan of your reviews ( I visit your reviews site every week). Here's my question: How far does a relationship go between a film critic and the industry? How far can it go? You yourself have had a long history with Martin Scorsese, so I just wanted to know how that relationship works.
By the way, I think you're an awesome guy.
Mr Roger Ebert,
You are a cinematography icon. I will always cite you as my favourite film critic of all time. Thank you for teaching me to appreciate cinematography, for exposing me to fine motion pictures and for enabling me to avoid the many many abysmal ones out there. Not only have you instilled in me such appreciation for film, you have also taught & exemplified what it takes for one to be a tenacious fighter in the face of sickness. Soldier on Mr Ebert, i salute you. Keep the impeccable critiquing up. :)
This was an extremely nice read. I loved Chris' article and I really admire how open you are about the whole thing, Roger.
I live in Denmark where your show has never aired, so it's only because of various things on the internet that I even know about you (the Nostalgia Critic's tribute to you and Gene for instance). But I must say that having seen some of your older reviews now and having read a whole lot about you on the web plus being a follower of yours on twitter has been a great experience to me. You're an interesting as well as fascinating person who's not let the loss of your voice shut you up the least. It's highly admirable :)
Oh yeah, thank you for all the different links you've tweeted. They have given me many hours of joy.
Yours truly
Kenneth Jørgensen, Randers, Denmark.
The Esquire article was beautifully written though slightly overdramatic.
After I read it, I realized that I had learned film appreciation from "Siskel & Ebert at the Movies" and Bill Rocz (my local film critic).
My interests in journalism and filmmaking resulted in 3 years of high school journalism and a college film education.
I would like to say that I grew up to be a famous filmmaker, but that hasn't happened yet. I'm a business student who makes short films and writes movie reviews for fun.
I can never thank you or Gene enough for teaching me to appreciate good films. Bill Rocz taught me to look out for stinkweeds.
Every time I read your blog or read one of your reviews, I learn something new.
Roger I've been an avid reader of your writing for a long time and to see you continue despite your physical challenges has been galvanizing. As a journalism student myself, I can only hope to be half the writer you've proven yourself to be. There is indeed a silver lining to your illness, your proficiency and dedication to your art despite your illnesses are enviable and inspiring not just to writers but to anyone suffering from cancer. Your jaw may not have lasted Roger but your words will live forever.
What a great article the Esquire story is. Thank you for sharing it with us all. A few months ago I first found out about a novel called Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. It sounded like something I'd like to read, so I found a copy and set it aside. Last week I started on it. I knew nothing about it or its author, but on the flyleaf it said Wallace died in 2008. Wikipedia told me he committed suicide. I'm up to page 92 and only have 987 to go; already I'm hooked. Just like I've been hooked on your reviews for at least a decade. I'm sorry I never read or heard Gene's reviews with you (they probably didn't get to Australia). But like Wallace's words, yours will always be with us and they will always entertain and make us think. Thanks for the reviews and the blog entries; may they continue for many more years!
Mr Roger Ebert,
You are a cinematography icon. I will always cite you as my favourite film critic of all time. Thank you for teaching me to appreciate cinematography, for exposing me to fine motion pictures and for enabling me to avoid the many many abysmal ones out there. Not only have you instilled in me such appreciation for film, you have also taught & exemplified what it takes for one to be a tenacious fighter in the face of sickness. Soldier on Mr Ebert, i salute you. Keep the impeccable critiquing up. :)
I think it was very courageous to let some of your most personal experiences be known publicly. I knew of course of your surgeries and your inability to speak but I truly didn't fathom (and never completely will) what you are going through.
You don't sound frail though. When he was talking of you being in the theater taking notes and when you were writing into the night, I thought, "Do I accomplish that much in a day?"
Well, I am rambling now. Thank you for your blogs and for your willingness to let us peer into a deeper facet of your life.
So nice to hear your responses to the piece — and your thoughts about your new appearance. The latest, internet-fueled incarnation of Roger Ebert has made me pump my fist in the air many times, but I've never cheered harder than when you wrote about the importance of being sick in public and not hiding the after-effects of your surgeries. Despite our modern media saturation, sickness (indeed, weakness of any kind) are hidden away with as much shame and denial as they've ever been. Chris Jones is right to draw attention to your role as an internet personality and the manner in which it's proven that your mind and personality are as powerful and engaging as they've ever been.
Funny enough, the line I most strongly disagree with is also seen in the Romenesko's snippet — "Roger Ebert is no mystic, but he knows things we don't know." It's a damn good line, but it sells your mysticism short. We all know you as a writer committed to rational, humanistic, Enlightenment-driven ideals — but, like it or not, you're also a cybershaman.
I've enjoyed pumping my fist and engaging in virtual call-and-response with your writing — preach it, Brother Ebert! — but what I've enjoyed most of all since you began writing for the Web is the notion that someone smart and capable and sometimes a little wise remembers what came before today and is still able to engage the world of today with vitality and relevance. It breaks my heart how few 20th Century voices have been able to speak through (and to) the internet. Perhaps you possess an uncanny social aptitude and natural talent for the interactive Web, but I prefer to believe it's sheer will and willingness to engage that have made you a trusted voice online. Ebert 3.0 is a worthy intermediary between those of us who slave away in day jobs and the high-definition realm of entertainment, thought, and (forgive me for speaking it) Truth.
Those moments we can see the man behind the voice — or even a reasonable facsimile cobbled together through narrative — are all the more precious. Thanks for sharing the photos, the scenes from your life, and your thoughts with Chris Jones.
And apologies that my first response to you in all this time is filled with such gushing admiration. Perhaps later I'll return and confess to the fact that when I first encountered you and Gene Siskel, I wrote you off as the wrong-headed, sentimental one and spent most of my time with your virtual stand-in sputtering and disagreeing, rather than issuing amens.
I personally found the article to be both touching and inspiring. The only real issue I had, in fact, was the title, which cast a bit of a pall over the story that followed. Still, excellent work that I felt treated you with the utmost respect.
(Despite my misgivings about the name, I must admit the tone and focus of the article reminded me of the quote attributed to Issac Asimov: "If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster.")
I read the article a couple days ago while I was at work. The photograph you mentioned was indeed jarring, but I thought the overall piece was one of the better things I've ever read in Esquire. And it was also sort of inspiring. Speaking of which... When I was about 13 or 14 and had just started writing movie reviews as a hobby, I e-mailed you. I didn't expect a reply, but not only did you respond - you also asked for my address and subsequently sent me an autographed copy of your Great Movies book with a personal message.
That was a big deal to me back then, and I still have the book. It's also still one of the most inspiring things anyone's ever done for me, and I think I might have given up on writing (or at least doubted myself more) if that hadn't happened. It really boosted my enthusiasm. Although I don't write reviews as often as I used to, I'm still churning stuff out these days when I'm not too busy with college, where I'm studying journalism in the hopes of becoming a writer.
I just wanted to thank you now, about six or seven years later, for going out of your way to do that - and also to say that the article just made me respect you even more.
- John
i'm loving being reacquainted with your daily writings. i come more from the visual arts world, and have always thought of critics as frustrated artists. but you and mick la salle have this beautiful respect and desire to understand and convey what you feel that makes art more cyclical. like a good conversation.
when you leave art school, things get more commercial and busy and you miss the fights, the love, the screwing, all in the name art.
i love hearing about your relationship with siskel. i love going over some of your reviews in my head, and i've loved watching a movie THEN going to read your take on it. it's back to the conversations we had in bars after making art and not showering for 3 or 4 days, and barely sleeping.
i think that the funny thing is that you are now living all out in the open like a total fearless artist, so i'm confused about my original take on critics. yes, yes, i know i was simple-minded to assume.
but we get to categorizing people into the "suits" the "porn stars" the "trophy wives," etc.
i find your transparency and candor so beautiful, you are living AS art now. more than ever. every nerve ending is exposed and it's something to see you've reached this place we touchy feely types hope to get to. it's a maturity and a peace that supports your passion instead of an immature mania that the arts romanticizes with bad endings and needles dangling out of our arms or with us taking a running leap out the window.
thank you for showing how you take each step and offer up your neck and.. i find i stumble to express myself and my usual craziness with metaphors has got me stammering. you notice everything and i love how you write write write it all down.
i ask you questions on twitter and you ignore them. questions i ask as if i had a few hours with you before someone drives me back to the city. but i don't mind and i don't feel like a little kid who was turned away from getting an autograph. when it's your time, and you're typing as fast as you take anything in, i can see why you might think, "if you didn't get what i wrote the first time, catch it again on your own time."
i feel like that now about bad movies and now i get why my friend who was 20 yrs older than me used to say she doesn't have time for bad movies because life's too short after you leave your 30s. if it starts bad, it's not gonna get better.
i'm 42 now. i get it.
so i'll find your essay on the magical mystique of b/w film. i'll figure out why the ending of "brown bunny" wasn't gratuitous. i'm 42 and let a lot of enigmas go, but that'll be with me because i learn so much from what you say and how you feel.
but that one? i still wonder what you meant. what you saw.
anyhow, be well, you and chaz. a beautiful friendship you both also have.
thanks. i'll sit out here quietly and learn from how you're doing things.
thanks for your work and adding facets to everything. movies, life, understandings.
another critic becomes the artist. and when i say art, i mean it in the way that an artist is not just of "the" time, but of all times.
--erika
"Chaz looks over his shoulder at the screen. "Those fu — " she says, catching herself." - Esquire
Repeat after me: "I shall not be thwarted."
Siskel & Ebert: Special Tribute Show to Gene Siskel
Part 1:
http://www.youtube.com/watch#v=C0tRNy9rELg&feature=related
Part 2:
http://www.youtube.com/watch#v=AtO4_--TRgo&feature=related
Part 3:
http://www.youtube.com/watch#v=wKR9pQmMXv0&feature=related
That's what you couldn't find, yes?
I had posted a link to the Esquire article on Facebook, and my sister read it while at work. She really didn't have the time to read it, but did it anyway while her boss (a lawyer) was on the phone.
My sister was deeply moved by the article and found it incredibly emotional. It made her cry. Her emotions were so strongly affected by the article, that she had a difficult time working. Her boss noticed that she was a bit emotional, and thought she seemed distracted; although he didn't know why she was distracted. He allowed her to leave work and go home.
I think this says a lot about the Esquire article. It was a wonderful thing to read.
Wow.
Not that you have any reason to know who I am - but as I've gone through creating my "brand" as an online film critic with a public identity based on my very genuine lover of action movies, I stay conscious of keeping so many things about my life private. And here you are, putting everything out there for the world. Thank you for this. You've given me some things to think about.
I enjoyed the Esquire article, and having just recently found your website have pretty much read your entire journal. I had always scanned for your reviews in my local newspaper when I was little, and then for reasons I can't recall lost touch with your work. Thankfully, Esquire's piece put me back in touch with you and I even found myself browsing YouTube's collection of At The Movies. As a younger fan and new follower thanks for the work you do and have done!
I just want to say, Roger, you've long been a hero of mine, just for the way you write about movies, and about life. Reading this article may have briefly choked me up, but it inspired me a lot more.
You're right, we are all dying in increments. But it's obvious that you are living in full, and, well, thank you.
(Also, if you can find it in your heart to rip into Rob Schneider again someday, well, that's just a bonus :) )
Having read the article, I agree with your take on it. I especially agree about how your journal has not only reconnected you with your fans, but also built a new audience. What I love about the journal is that I don't know what I'm going to get with each piece. That mystery is something I look forward to every time I log on to it. Sufficed to say, keep writing and I'll keep reading.
There's an old Yugoslavian expression: "Tell the truth and run." You tell the truth and stand tall. Kudos for your courage, and for inspiring others.
You are brave. I admire your honesty and your ability to be so forward with your life. Thank you for doing the interview with Esquire and showing that a facade isn't something we should hang on to.
I pray you have a great day.
I thought the article was fantatsic. It was like reading about an old friend of mine, actually. My only regret is that Chaz does not contribute to your blogs once in a while.
I discovered your blog at a time of great personal crisis, Roger. The fact that someone else was as interested as I was in movies, politics, Diane Arbus, TTOETNS vs. the Legend of The Talking Snake with Two Naked People in the Garden of Eden, Chicago, etc.. was like a lifeline at the time.
I've met other friends here, too. People I would never meet had you not started communicating this way. Its a silver lining to a very gray cloud, I know, but it has done me (and a lot of others, I suspect) a world of good.
How can I store this post along with the article? You should find a way to compile your posts so that when you "are done", we can still have them to reflect. There is no way to archive them. Bookmarks don't mean a thing.
I'm glad you mentioned Rush Limbaugh. I started listening to him out of curiosity in 1989 or 90. I found him at first to be a rat of a human being. I also noticed that I kept tuning him in everyday at lunch. He was a very bright, entertaining rat.
Even though i'd like to sucker punch him through the radio, I have to admit that i've learned more about politics from him than any other human being.
He can quicker tell you what a liberal's reaction to any circumstance will be faster than that same liberal can take bonds out of the Social Security trust fund and spend them.
I find it troubling that conservatives can't believe in global warming because humans are too puny to screw the planet up; only God can do that. They obviously did not see the movies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki being vaporized. Conservatives don't conserve much. Why do they call themselves conservatives?
Anyway Roger, you have my mind spinning again at the unGodly hour of 4:00 AM. I'm at work reading your writing and thinking what a great national resource you are. I like movies and I enjoy reading and you appear to be the man for the job.
And really, what is not to like?????
Roger, you're a treasure.
I remember having a brief conversation with you at a book signing in NYC (for Great Movies I, I think). I mentioned your great interview book "A Kiss is Still a Kiss" and you told me interviews like that never happen anymore. When I read the Esquire article I noticed the similarities, and I see you did too.
(I read your article to my wife on our way to my uncle's funeral on Tuesday. I had no idea now poignant and touching it would be when I started. It was all very "Wild Strawberries".)
I was sad you lost your voice and glad I was able to share a few words with you before it went. Even more glad that I can still hear from you here.
(One last thing, have you seen Herzog's "Land of Silence and Darkness" lately? It's on Netflix Instant. It came to my brain, probably because one of the few things those in the film have left is speech)
Interestingly enough, the main thesis that I came away with from the article wasn't that you were dying at all, but that you had taken on a new stage and renewed purpose in your life and career. I myself am the repeat recipient of (many) semi-elective surgeries over the course of the first 24 years of my life, mainly to correct, manipulate, and re-correct a cleft lip and palate I was born with. Each time, the medical surgeons would say "just a little more, we are so close." And each time, something would go slightly awry. After a while, I simply said, "no more"; I would rather live my life in whatever capacity I could than spend more of it on another invasive, time-intensive and painful gamble.
As a writer and filmmaker myself, I can only sympathize with the sentiments of "Broken Embraces" quoted in the article: even if you're blind, there's still work to be done. It gladdens me deeply that you seem to agree.
I love the wedding photo anecdote. That is exactly the kind of thing that happens in my marriage.
I'm a little bit sad about your set. When I was dating my husband we used to watch Siskel & Ebert every Sunday morning and talk about the movies we wanted to see the next weekend. I have such fond memories--I would love to have seen that set in the Smithsonian. I can only imagine how you must feel about it.
It's really a wonderful article. Chris Jones did you both proud. And I think it's amazing that you allowed him such access to your life--I could never have done that. I am really, really impressed with the way you and Chaz have handled adversity. So many people would have just crumpled up, but you have made what seems to be a joyous, fulfilling life for yourself.
P. S. Did you ever lurk at Readerville.com when it was still around?
Hey Rog
I read the article the other day and was really moved by it. At first I was shocked by the photo of you, but the more I looked at it, the less it bothered me. You still look like Roger Ebert to me. Same eyes. I have to say I really do miss your (spoken) voice though. There was a certain sing-songy quality to it that really made listening to what you had to say enjoyable. I'm really looking forward to the day that computer program you use is able to speak with your own voice - cuz' I'm getting pretty tired of shitty DVD commentary tracks. Ha!
You're still the best film critic around, and even though I read a lot of other film reviews on sites like Rottentomatoes, you're the only one whom I actually look forward to reading every time a new film hits theaters. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to read your review of Shutter Island.
Bill Gould
Boston
P.S. I think if the great Lee Marvin were alive today and somebody asked him "Hey, what do you think about Roger Ebert after that Esquire article?" Marvin's response would be (in that great baritone of his), "Ebert? Ebert's got guts."
You've got guts, Rog. Keep fighting the good fight.
great quote about the rent-free room. and mirrors. better to look at other things than just contemplate how others see yourself. Cheers for the insight and inspiration. truly inspirational work and attitude.
Last weekend, returning home for a few days from college, I entered my room to find Esquire laid out on my chair opened to the first page of the article (my mother's doing; she knows what a fan of yours I am). I read it immediately. I appreciate the frankness of the whole thing. It meant something to me to have read the article and to have seen, for the first time, an unobscured post-surgery portrait of you. I don't think stems from an empty voyeuristic impulse either. My reaction to it was emotional; not explicitly sad, but certainly personal, accompanied by a kind of melancholy final understanding. The article and photograph serve to crystallize the history of your last few years (in the best way), lend it a sense of fullness and actuality where previously it seemed, at least in part, opaque. I'm glad it's out in the open. My parents, my friends, my girlfriend, probably most of the general public never had a sense of what had happened to you, "where you'd been" -- this makes everything clear, outs it, and, perhaps, for those of us who have followed your blog/writing and have some familiarity with and attachment to "Roger Ebert" the man, provide, not closure exactly, but catharsis, satisfaction in finally really knowing -- or at least feeling like we know, through the sum emotional impact of the photograph and article -- what's taken place and what's changed
Mr. Ebert, I for one am so glad that you agreed to that Esquire profile, and I hope that you don't for a minute feel self-conscious about your decision to do it (although, I'm sure at some level such a feeling is inevitable). I am a film school graduate and journalist with cerebral palsy, and all of my life have used either a wheelchair or crutches to get around. Your eloquence and grace and strength in your blog have resonated with me on a level you might not now or ever be aware of -- and I have always been a big fan of yours (even in the face of your too-generous reviews of "The Haunting" and "Walk Hard").
I hope that our paths might cross one day in a place that is not digital, but following your blogs and reviews has felt like an ongoing conversation I've been too timid to enter into until now. Thank you for your schmaltz-free optimism, your persistence in doing what you love, your enviable skills as a writer and thinker, and your gracious decision to let us into your life. It has been a valuable discovery in my own.
Dear Roger,
unfortunately I'm not able to follow all the articles, posts and tweets you write (how could I, my day only has 24 hours?!), but I'm glad I mostly manage to drop in on your most important ones.
Hardly any person on the planet has a life full of sunshine. Most people tend to live through the rain and storm just to see another ray of that comforting light.
I don't think I make an exception there, although there are a lot of people out there whose lives took way more diffucult turns than mine.
I complain nonetheless. Most of the time until I witness something that puts my misery in perspective to some that far outweighs my own.
I find it inspiring to read your articles and furthermore to see you accept your share of cards without the complaints one hears mostly from people who have suffered as much as you have. That actually is what I call brave in our time.
So my suggestion for your middle names would be "Roger 'The Inspiration' Ebert". You certainly are for me.
Best regards - and thank you.
Jens Adrian (following you as best he can from Germany)
dear roger,
i am calling you that because i feel we've been friends for a very long time. i trust your judgment with regard to movies; since i trust you, we are, therefore, friends.
i believe you are an honest person. to put yourself "out there" as you've done is a terrific statement about you - the person, not you -the critic. i am in awe of your courage. i know it takes a lot for a person to shed his skin and bare all. you have my utmost respect.
continued success with your life. and please, continue your movie reviews! as stated earlier, i trust your judgment and will continue to do so.
The Esquire article was fascinating, and even as I was reading it I was thinking of how well written it really was, and wondering really what the author had seen and how things had been rearranged or possibly altered. It's also pretty fascinating to read your own take on it.
I have to say, though, the last page almost had me in tears, particularly your thoughts, such as the: "To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts." Very wonderfully said.
Yes, a bit of uncombing would have been more stylish. A bit like Paul Erdos, who actually was full of humor.
i have been a fan of yours for longer than I can remember. After reading the Esquire article, and looking at your photo for a long, long time, I have concluded that you look beautiful.
Please keep writing and sharing your thoughts with us.
Sincerely,
Charlotte
As much as I loved the Esquire article, I loved this more. My take away is that you are embracing life and whether you think you are healthy or not, it is something we all need to hear.
God bless you Roger Ebert.
Wonderful article Roger. I look forward to checking your site every few days before going to work while scrambling to get my boys their breakfast in front of PBS. You have a great amount of warmth in your blogs, which I greatly enjoy reading. Thank you for sharing your response to Esquire's rather personal piece.
Roger, your appearance is far from ugly. The clarity and intelligence in your eyes is now more obvious than ever, and the eyes communicate more about what's going on inside someone than their mouth ever will. When I look at that picture, it's your eyes that draw my attention, not your mouth.
You've always been my favourite movie journalist, now you've become my favourite writer.
Dear Roger,
Just want to let you know that your voice lives on in your words. Keep it up and best wishes always
Fayaz
Let me just say, when I saw what Disney had done to At The Movies, after Roeper left, I was disgusted. I do remember seeing, recently, Roeper and one of his regular guest critics back on tv reviewing films but I don't recall where or under what title. They seemed to have brought back the classic format you and Siskel perfected.
(Did the old set ever get taken out of the dumpster and displayed at the Smithsonian?)
Anyways, the article from Chris Jones delivered a satisfying inside peak into your life now and I really enjoyed reading it. I grew up watching Siskel & Ebert and remember your appearances together on the Tonight Show. I miss you guys.
Thanks for being so open and engaging and thanks for all the interesting reviews, even the ones with which I disagreed. ;)
For a writer, his personal office is possibly a more intimate place than his bedroom. Yours is like I pictured, Roger, and I wish I could look through those stacks of books to see how many we have in common.
Let me first apologize for my bad English; it is not my mother tongue. God knows what I would do without dictionary.com
I enjoyed reading Jones' article, and I've discovered you and your great blog because of it. But without knowing anything about your health or personal life in advance (being European, I've never heard about "Siskel & Ebert" before), It read to me like pure speculation when he said "Ebert is dying in increments and he is aware of it". As if the sentence popped up in his head and it was too good to throw away for journalism sake.
On an unrelated note, there is something in the picture of you at your desk that makes me curious: what's with the chubby ballet dancer next to your desk?
My friends who have read the article almost unanimously used the same word: "touching." Not frightening, not alarming, but touching. Thank you for allowing your humanity to shine through.
Several of my friends posted a link to the article on their Facebook pages and pretty much all of them used the same words to describe it--"sad," "tragic," "heartbreaking," etc. While I imagine the health problems suck extremely hard, I didn't see any of the bad stuff. I saw a man who's made a very good living doing what he loves to do, who lives in an awesome city, has a wife whom he adores, has traveled extensively, and in short has a pretty sweet life--and realizes it. I refuse to feel sorry for anyone who has a library like that!
But as many people have written here previously, thank you for this blog and for your honesty. This place is a daily stop for me now on my travels through the internet. Glad that reports of your imminent demise have been greatly exaggerated, to paraphrase Mark Twain.
Such beautiful honesty. You have reached a place where you can observe yourself without the ego being master. Your comments on Chris's article are balanced and fair. You don't pretend you don't care how cancer has changed your appearance, your life. You accept that it has, you mourn the loss and you move on. It has no power over you to embarrass or humiliate. Keeping secrets leaves one vulnerable to being exposed. Your openness destroys that vulnerability - you are free. And in that moving on you can truly observe the new face. What I see is an extraordinary, wonderful uniqueness. And now that you are communicating more with the written word, your ideas can be savored. Like a tree that has been pruned, you have come back fuller!
I was very impressed with the article. I didn't get the impression that you were on the edge of death or anything like that, and I love how you defended Chris Jones for his writing. Very classy.
I read the article yesterday and have shown it to everyone I can.
I've been reading you for years; as a fan of your criticism, and as a fan of your writing, and finally as a fan of your humor. But how little I knew!
The article made me laugh, made me cry, and made me grateful there are people in the world like you and Chaz.
Chris Jones did a superb job.
Chris's article is excellent, and I think it's admirable of you, Roger, to put that picture up on your own blog even as it makes you wince.
My mother battled cancer for years, and she always resisted being photographed, especially when most of her hair was gone. But in the last few months of her life, when she was at her worst, she got over any misgivings she had. In October, we took our first family picture in about five years. She died in December.
Even before she became sick she sometimes worried about the way she looked, but I think in those final months she learned to stop obsessing. It's kind of sad when someone is literally afraid of having her picture taken. Even though it took a long time, I'm glad she got over that fear.
Quite simply, one of the best magazine pieces I've ever read, about one of the greatest writers ever. It doesn't get much better than that.
Roger, if you could just give up the Twitter thing, you'd be the most sane human being alive.
(Okay, second most sane. Upon reflection I think we'd have to deed the "most sane" title to Chaz.)
It's pretty amazing how the human mind learns to adapt to its circumstances after a while of resentment and anger at the situation the person's in.
Well, Mr. Ebert. Your tweets make it so hard for me to like you, and your blog entries make it so hard not to! (Maybe that's the problem with 140 characters.) Thanks for sharing yourself with us.
What we look like isn't who we are. This statement leads directly to two more that almost seem contradictory. If there's a disconnect between what we look like and what we are, we compensate -- be it a hairpiece, dentures, or a scarf to hide hair loss during chemo. Or maybe we just avoid mirrors. On the other hand, it's also good to accept what is. So if you avoid mirrors and choose not to be photographed too often, that's fine. It's also good to be comfortable when a photo catches you by surprise.
A couple of years ago I was diagnosed with prostate cancer. I asked what the treatment options were, made my choice, made arrangments, and had it taken care of. To this day my doctor and many of my friends -- including one who also had prostate cancer about the same time -- think I must have been in denial. But I knew this particular cancer was among the most treatable, and it's my nature to move forward.
On the other hand, the words "cancer survivor" give me a chill, and my friends are courteous enough not to use it.
By the way, that's a lot of books. I hope you will, for a day far from now, make arrangements to establish a Roger Ebert library somewhere.
Thanks profusely for the submitting to the Esquire article--I've missed seeing you. The intimacy of the article was delicious for me. I doubt that it could have been better done. I was more taken with how thin that you've gotten, and it was beyond great to see the twinkle in your eyes.
We all get confronted, by looking in the mirror, with the ravages wrought by time and gravity. I find that I avoid looking at myself in the mirror as much as possible--I don't appreciate the old bastard that I see shaving me in the mornings. However, there are benefits to being forced to focus less on our looks and more on the quality and depth of our lives.
I was lucky enough to have been married to the girl BETTER than my dreams (whom I lost tragically almost 11 years ago.) It seems that we've both been pretty lucky bastards in our choice of a mate. Reading the article gave me such a sense of the love and profoundly intimate connection that you and Chaz share, that I came away with the understanding that you are more than blessed.
I never though that you were dying, and I don't now. I'm just so glad that you're still here and doing what you adore--I always look for your columns and was thrilled to find this site. It was wonderful to see and hear you. Sophistication and erudition are such rare commodities that I can't help but revel in yours. Keep kicking, Roger--this old S.O.B. loves having you around.
Love,
Russ
You've been my (re)source throughout your entire career. In fact, we never go to a movie w`/o first getting your opinions. One of my proudest personal business moments came a number of years ago when you so glowingly included my first behind-the-scenes/co-financing (Mel Brooks, Joe Levine & Sidney Glazier got the notoriety) production effort, "The Producers," among your alltime comedy favorites.
More than the words you put on paper and used to espouse on tv, I respect you much more for the outspoken, standup, individualistic way you comport yourself in life.
Here's wishing you and your wife many, many more years of good health, happiness, AND imparting valuable insights to your legion of fans.
Yesterday when I got to work I saw that "Roger Ebert" was a search topic on Yahoo!. My stomach dropped and I got really really nervous as I knew your health had been declining. You can imagine my relief when I saw that not only were you alive and in good spirits, but that with clicking on that link I finally got the peak into your world I've been waiting for. I met you in Chicago at a book signing a year ago, to the day if my memory serves me correctly, and I was so amazed at how chipper and upbeat you were! Meeting your beautiful wife was such a treat as well. You two are so great together. After the signing I walked up to her and I told her that she is a strong, beautiful, and magnificent woman and I admire her so much! Meeting you. Was the single greatest day of my life and I will cherish it forever. I read your work every single day. I am not sure what I'd do or where I'd be if it weren't for your influence of film and life.
The piece in Esquire was intimate and beautiful, I can't imagine the pressure that the writer felt knowing you would be critiquing his work about...you! And you followed it just as beautifully. Well done sir.
The rent-free room. I can't stand for friends to stay too long, much less anyone else. Glad to have found you in here.
"But then I am not a lovely sight, and in a moment I thought, well, what the hell. It's just as well it's out there. That's how I look, after all."
Au contraire: Any picture of a person with so much joy radiating from them is a lovely picture. At least, that's how you've been framed in Esquire.
The piece struck me with its total humanity and humility. Whether Chris Jones exaggerated the morbid tone of anything, he treated his subject with great respect and seriousness while still making an interesting story of it. I am so pleased you posted this response to it and seem pretty positive, since the interview is really magnificent and moving.
I especially liked his description of the process of building a new voice for you from existing TV and DVD clips, what a very cool technology.
The resentment line is usually given to Ann Landers, but I imagine she won't mind if Chaz gets it too.
I thought it was a well written article, I am glad you are at peace with yourself too.
I always liked your work and enjoyed watching you on TV. I too agree, we are all dying incrementally but some (most) don't take time to smell the roses.
Too many people are searching for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow but I read an expression that is so true... at the end of the chess game, the king and pawn go in the same box. So I've taken to enjoying my life from a young age, I've gone through many stages of not working (on purpose) to travel and "smell the roses" because we never know if we will be around or physically able to do the things we would like to or dream of!
Stay well and keep your spirits up!
The Esquire Portrait of you was beautiful. I mean the writing, the style, absolutely incredible. As if one were across the room listening in to an interesting conversation between two people. I have read and re-read it to learn a bit how to write so beautifully. But I didn't get the imprression of you dying, but of one surviving so much tsuris and yet,still here on your terms. Your story is quite inspriring, neat hair and all. Chaz sounds like quite a woman too! Best to you both...
I enjoyed the Esquire piece, and this was a very eloquent follow-up, thank you for sharing it.
I don't recall ever seeing an episode of your TV show. I know I've seen clips of it (I was born in 1971, how could I not?). I've heard you on the radio, most notably in great dialogue with Howard Stern- you were among his better guests.
I've been following your reviews online since the late 90s, a relationship between a writer and a reader. For me, your voice has not ceased, nor has your outlook been impaired.
And to top it all off, in light of all the challenges you have faced, you are still not the director of "The Brown Bunny."
Roger,
The article said something about your condition worsening. Is it really? Can you feel it?
I can't speak for everyone, but I'm really worried about you.
Brian
Ebert: Steady, sturdy, and swell.
I have been reading your work since I first became interested in film (seeing "Goodfellas" in 1990). When I was in college, I bought your books and read your reviews when you first started publishing your work online. You were even gracious enough to respond to a couple emails I sent (from djg13@pitt.edu, a long retired address), always signing "Best, RE."
I'm glad to have read the Esquire article, and thank you for writing as often and as well as you do.
I wish you the best, Roger. I have been reading your work since I was a kid. I am turning 36 and I always check your website daily.
What I like about your work is that you use simple English to drive your points across. It must take a lot of skill talking about deep truths using simple words. Many other writers deliberately use long and windy words just to show everyone that they are better than anyone else. To me, you are the Paolo Coelho of the critics world.
I will state, upfront, it's irrelevant to me how you look; my question is merely out of curiosity.
In an age of steel plates and carbon-fiber, is a prosthesis not an option, or simply one you haven't explored? Even for the simple task of shaving, which I imagine must be slightly more inconvenient, now.
gn
I'll give Jones this: I knew very little about Ebert the man before reading his article, and based solely on this piece, I knew that this response to the piece would be level-headed and brilliantly composed. I came away from the article thinking "I need to read what this man is writing," whether or not this writing happens to be his last.
I read the Esquire article and yes, it touched the fibre you expected it would. And I think I expected this entry in your blog; I don't see yourself as a man who wallows in self-pity. And I won't embarass you with clichés like "you're an inspiration" or the such. I am just very happy for you, that you have managed to adapt to your new life the way you are. If anything, as the article said, it has made you love movies even more, and how is that a bad thing? (I have forgiven you for calling "Tomb of the Dragon Emperor" "the best in the [Mummy] series".) I think you are still very much full of life, and I am glad to see that your sense of humor is very much intact. Carry on, mr. Ebert.
I thought the photo and the article were both fantastic, and each in their way made me appreciate more the seemingly tireless work you do: reviews, blogging, essays, even twitter. It's heartening to see someone fighting the good fight so pointedly and with such elegance.
Mr. Ebert, I confess that reading the Esquire profile shook me a little, because it reminded me of the last time I saw you, and my lingering regrets. It was at last year's Toronto film festival. I was leaving a press screening and spotted Michael Phillips in line for the next screening. I went up to Michael to congratulate him on getting the At The Movies gig, and didn't notice you standing there behind him until you clapped him on the shoulder, apparently in agreement with me. I said nothing to you, in part because I was in a hurry to get in the same line you were in, and in part because I wasn't sure how to communicate with you.
Here's what I should've said:
Mr. Ebert, I started watching Sneak Previews when I was 10 years old, mainly to see clips from movies that I either wasn't allowed or couldn't afford to see. But I quickly started watching to hear the opinions, and I remember finding it surprising that there were movies out there that people didn't like, or that they disagreed about. At the time, I think my family went to one or two movies a year. If we didn't like the movie, we kept it to ourselves.
In high school, I was encouraged by you and Siskel to pursue the independent filmmakers that were emerging: Spike Lee, the Coen brothers, etc. For all the knocks you've gotten over the years for going on television and introducing thumbs to criticism, I think more attention should be paid for what you and Siskel did to promote the movies as an artform. I particularly loved all your special episodes (on cult movies, on your favorite young actors, on the best movies of the year) and used them as guides for what to see.
In college, I started buying your yearbooks annually, and gravitating especially to the 4-star movies, making an effort to rent them on video or watch them in the university library. I didn't always agree with you, but when I read your reviews, I at least understood your argument. And while you've also been knocked over the years for being too generous with your grades, I've nevertheless tried to hold to some of that spirit in my own writing: remaining open to what a movie is doing, and presenting myself as an enthusiast more than a cynic or a nit-picker.
After college, when I started writing professionally, I looked to your interview pieces as a model for how to profile people without making the articles all about myself. And when I moved to Charlottesville for a few years, I looked forward annually to the Virginia Film Festival and your stop-and-start movie lectures. I looked forward even more to your annual book-signings. At one of those signings, you noticed my press credentials and asked me who I wrote for and how it was going. I've tried to follow that lead as well, treating younger writers collegially.
So after I congratulated Michael, I should've turned to you and thanked you, for being an inspiration to me as a writer, a thinker, and a person. I'm sorry that I didn't do it then. I'm glad I can do it now.
Ebert: Believe it or not, I rememeber that. I think Michael told me who you were.
Is A/V Club the Onion's best kept secret, or vice versa?
It's a nice article, well written and sympathetic. I'm going to add the bit about living in the rent-free room to my daily quote file. It's something I need to hear now and then.
For myself, I've always been more of a reader than a listener, so as far as I'm concerned, your voice is still here. I seldom watched your show. I always read your reviews. So thanks for continuing to write.
I think you may be too close to the photo to appreciate it. To me, it's a very humanizing picture. It draws attention immediately to the eyes, and invites the viewer to conversation. In contrast, the photo used for your twitter avatar feels a little off-putting.
I wondered the same as Christy...thanks for sharing this. His article made me feel like I was sitting with you and Chaz in a comfortable way, not as a...how do I say it? not a vulture eager for inappropriate details into another's life...but as a caring friend, listening and almost feeling like I could interact. I guess that makes no sense - but your writing draws me in and his article complemented what I feel. That somehow you're my/our friend. Anyway. I'm glad you're not as fragile as we were led to believe. ;)
kim
Roger,
I read the Esquire article yesterday and found it to be insightful, thoughtful, honest and moving. I'm glad that you a) agreed to do it and b) that Mr Jones performed so admirably!
I'll admit that seeing the photo was surprising (though not shocking) even though I've been following your fight for years... mostly through this blog. Embracing the facts of your appearance is the only way to approach it, in my humble opinion. For those who only know you from your television show, shocking may be a natural reaction. However, I choose to find it uplifting and encouraging; you have fought against a deadly villian successfully... with the scars to prove it. Not only that, your writing is better and more prolific than ever as evidenced by this wonderful entry today.
I will close with a line stolen (and paraphrased) from your Great Movies essay on "Adaptation":
In context, it's one of this blog's funniest lines
"Chaz, show Chris our wedding photos."
I haven't laughed that hard in a while.
Cheers!
Chris
Roger, you've always been one of my favorite writers. Your intelligence, wit, honesty and love (whether it's for your wife or Gene Siskel) shine through. And you look great. Bravo for all of you.
best,
Laura Sewell in Portland, Maine
I had the same surgery as you at the age of two. My life parade has been lead by a different drummer. My own personal Music Man. Have you ever read Autobiography Of A Face by Lucy Grealy? Wonderful book.
Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes.
-- Walt Whitman
Ebert: I'll look for the book. I'll pass on Walt's quotation.
I was certainly moved by the piece. I am only 21, but I already had a serious battle with stomach cancer. The struggle made me cynical at first but then thankful for all that I have.
I particularly enjoyed the "glass half-full" part of the article where you said that your condition has made you enormously productive. For me, it was similar. When I was sitting in the hospital I read great books, watched superb films, and began writing. I was published on several websites and in magazines and it has really turned my simple boyhood hobbies into passions and a career.
I know that you aren't religious and this might not mean much to you, but I will keep you and Chaz in my prayers. Even if there is no higher power, you will at least be in the thoughts of a person whom you've inspired to chase after their dreams even after life has thrown a curve ball.
Best Wishes,
Doug
As much as anything, I admire your (evident) lack of vanity. I have a blog in our local newspaper (Albany, NY) and someone recently suggested that I get a newer picture for it. Goodness, why? Since I've had my vitilago, I literally don't even recognize myself in photos. I know what I look like in my mind's eye, and newer photos don't reflect it.
So you're braver, or more honest, than I.
Ebert: I think I'll stick with my old picture for awhile. Don't want to scare off first-timers.
I read the article and loved it, as all who read and love you should.
Consider this, though: They say being a little bit ornery makes you live longer.
Using that standard, you may be immortal!
I thought that the article was wonderful. I remember seeing the first photos of you post many ops and feeling shocked and horrified. In our air-brushed and photo-shopped world, we don't see many regular images let alone someone who has suffered a physical disfigurement.
But I have seen it a number of times and now we have your Esquire interview photo. It is what it is. It is you now. Well, it is you now physically.
I hesitate to call it a silver lining, that benefit of enjoying the blog and the tweets that may never have occurred otherwise. But I can't call it that. There are many good things that happen to people and many horrific and tragic ones too. And many of the latter have no silver lining - there is no "on the other hand, there is this good thing".
As I stumble through this post, what I want to tell you is thank you. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to enjoy your wit and insight. I follow you on twitter and between that and the blog, I have a much better sense of you than ever before.
After following you for some time on twitter and reading your blog and reviews, I found the article to be overly dark in comparison to the attitude and humor I see in your writing. Still, it has to be pretty cool to be in Esquire.
Thanks for sharing with us, Mr. Ebert.
Those last paragraph alone is worthy of being taught in schools. The world needs more people to think like that.
It is a beautiful article, and there were definitely cliff hangers and sub plots aplenty--did you ever find the other copies of your Siskel tribute online? I quickly found a couple on youtube, and I hope you have as well.
Stay healthy and keep the reviews coming.
It was a very moving article and really brought home what a terrific person Chaz is.
She was quite right about your tweets. In fact, if I may be so bold as to make a writing suggestion to someone who is a far better writer than I can hope to be, you might want to consider skipping Twitter entirely. It was practically invented to inspire regrets. If Twitter serves any purpose it will be to provide a painful lesson in the value of temperance.
I read the interview last night and was moved -- I didn't see the elegiac tone as much as your will to live. Sure it was there, but like you say, "we're all dying in increments," its just that not all of us live like we are. Thanks for sitting for the interview.
Some folks with whom I've discussed the Esquire article came away sad. I didn't get that in reading it. I came away with the perspective that we are living in a window of time and that our only real choices are to get living or get gone. Sure, who wouldn't feel pain at the thought of a friend whose window has closed? In the end though, faced with adversity, the choice hasn't changed at all - we just understand it better.
Thank you so much for publishing these thoughts. Between the blog and your tweets I am grateful. Your words paint a picture. I know you said you didn't want to publish an autobiography, but you might consider a collection of these entries complete with videos and other multimedia elements - the perfect eBook for the ipad!
I read my eight year old daughter your quote about making others happy. It now occupies a place on our refrigerator; surrounded by crayon drawings, water color paintings and pictures of children. Thank you Roger.
Ebert: Please tell your daughter she has honored me.
Roger,
I was very moved by the article in Esquire. I know that you've been through a lot but I am happy that you've adapted to your new quality of life and continue to be a potent film critic. I took the liberty of sharing it on Facebook and made no hesitation to use the lead picture from this post as your thumbnail. You are what you are for better or worse and I don't think that's a pretty bad picture of you, considering. Continued good luck and you should be blessed to have a woman like Chaz helping you through your ordeal.
Here's something we don't often see: A writer breaking down the ways in which a piece written about himself is well written. Interviewees often point to mistakes in interviews or shrug off such pieces as necessary evils and quasi-fictions. You understand the limitations (as with any art) of the form but also praise the piece's writer. (And now I want to look for more that he's done; I agree, it was excellently structured.)
Just as David Copperfield wondered he might be "the hero of his own life," I've often though that we rely on other people to best describe the narrative arc of our lives (or at least some portion of it). Jones did you that service and honor, I think. Not that you're not up to the job . . .
Best wishes.
Mr. Ebert, I read the article a few days ago, and I don't recall the last time I was so moved by journalism. The article is well written, yes, but the story it tells is incredibly powerful. Your character shines through your words, and I'm grateful for all that you shared. You're a role model in a world increasingly lacking them. Thank you.
The Esquire piece was lovely, but your continuing journal entries are lovlier. The greatest part about the interview was finding out just how you're doing, how you're getting along. And it seems that, allowing for all the major inconveniences and adjustments, you're getting along fine. You've created something of a family here, Mr. Ebert, one that loves you very much. Reading the Esquire piece was reassuring, at least to those of us on the outside. As for the picture? What I noticed most was your eyes - bright and intelligent and unchanged. Windows to the soul, indeed.
I just wanted to thank you for doing that interview. It touched me very, very deeply and one of the final quotes from you in that piece is something truly, I think, for the ages. The one that starts: "I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do..."
I have always been a fan of your writing. While I sometimes miss your voice talking about movies, I have come to truly appreciate and marvel at the things you write these days. Somehow it has gotten even better, perhaps like a man going blind who finds his other senses compensate.
Funny thing is, when I read your stuff now, I very clearly hear you voice in my head. So, maybe your voice hasn't been lost after all.
Thanks again,
Bryan
Roger,
It was indeed a great piece in Esquire, and it's also fascinating to hear your account of it. That's something one rarely hears -- or, one usually only hears the subject's account of an interview when they're trying to distance themselves from the piece and complaining to whoever will listen that they were "taken out of context," etc.
Your candor and empathy for the interview are refreshing, and a nice inside look at "real" journalism -- something we don't get enough of nowadays, except for in a few places (such as Esquire, the New Yorker, etc.).
Incredible - I read the interview in Esquire in a sitting when it came, and while I already am a fan and follow you on twitter, the article was informative and made me an even bigger fan.
This blog post definitely serves as an excellent bookend to the interview, and I thank you for posting it.
I tweeted how much I liked the piece. Most people manage to reach old age with quiet dignity. All well and good, but I'd rather have it your way and also mature with good humor and a full grasp of my talents. And maybe, if I have any say in it, with not as many gory hospital "war stories". My music playlist is an acquired taste and probably a bit doctor-repelling.
Any advice for vacating my rent-free room? The tennants are getting comfy.
Regarding your photo, when I first saw it, it reminded me of photographer Phillip Toledano's project, A New Kind of Beauty (nsfw in spots). (You may have previously seen Toledano's touching Days with My Father on your web travels.) With physical alteration from surgeries both elective/cosmetic and life-saving (as in your case) becoming more common, a reevaluation of what is "normal" and "beautiful" seems in order. Your Esquire photo and Toledano's photos both point the way to that future.
By the time I finished reading Jones' article, I was surrounded by a pile of crumpled tissues. I had thyroid cancer as a 22-year-old and have had to deal voice loss issues since. It's always something of a gift, I think, to find a bit of your own experience in someone else's.
I particularly liked the article's focus on the impact writing has for you. I've had that moment where someone standing right next to me starts writing me a note. I've also had immense gratitude for having a way to communicate other than my speaking voice. I'm an avid reader/ writer, but there's nothing quite as lovely as the spontaneity of the human voice. Still, writing is a wonder.
Thanks for being willing to let Jones' tell some of your story. And thank you for writing your stories here.
"Resentment is allowing someone to live rent-free in a room in your head,"
It's still early, but I'm willing to bet that this aphorism is going to be the most valuable thing I hear and/or read all day. Thanks.
The interview is a snapshot, not a summary of your life. Your journal is the best place to learn about you, and the interview manages to extol what's happening here. I especially enjoyed the parts about Chaz and descriptions of your work process.
Wow. I had no frickin' clue. I found this through a series of Rube Goldberg style clicks off of other things, and I'm glad I did. Keep writing, Roger - I'm adding your blog to my "Must-Read" bookmarks.
I thought it was a great article. I didn't see it as your last words, but the words of a man living with a tough thing and making the best of it while he is living.
I haven't read Esquire in a while and when I was in Borders and saw the article of you I had to get it. I used to live in Chicago and now am away at school. It's amazing how Mr. Jones wrote everything to a key, that I was able to close my eyes and imagine some of the places he described.
Although with it being Esquire, I would have enjoyed a version of What I've Learned with Roger Ebert. If you haven't contributed to that timeless section, would you mind adding one or two now?
It really struck me how well written the article was though it seems Chris Jones doesn't know the difference between Atheist and Agnostic and to be fair, if I didn't read your blog, I would have no idea either.
Hey Roger,
The value of a face is only in its usefulness to communicate who you are to the people who look at you.
Yep, you've taken a facial battering, there's no doubt about it. You look different because you are different - I think your face is beautiful because it reminds me how rare and precious your own courage is.
And whether they're spoken or written or punched out in braille, the words stay awesome.
xxx Van
After reading your reviews, columns, and blog entries for years, I felt that I had a fairly reasonable impression as to the type of man you are. While it is impossible to actually know someone based on their writing, you do such a beautiful job of making your readers feel like you are speaking specifically to them individually. The intimacy with which you write is one of your greatest gifts. But Johnson's article provided us with wonderful insight and appropriate praise that your modesty would never allow you to share with us. You have inspired people for years with your words, and even though you have lost your ability to speak, your voice is louder than ever. Thanks Roger.
P.S.- You mentioned that you were not interested in writing an autobiography, but is there even a small chance that you would?
I thought it was a fantastic piece, and I've shared it with all my friends.
I've come to really enjoy your writing over the years, and I hope to enjoy it for many more to come.
I think I love Chaz, I know why you do.
I read that article and thought it was lovely; thank you for talking a moment to recognize Chris Jones' work. I thought he crafted a beautiful story that did all the things it should do: I learned some things about you, it made me feel something, and it made me share with others. As for you, keep writing, keep tweeting, keep sharing your voice. It's louder than you think. We can hear you, and we need to hear you.
Been a big fan of yours for 25 years now, but just discovered your blog due the article. Will be following from here on out.
The article was one of the best things I have read in a good long while and I am reading constantly.
Your courage and strength is profoundly inspiring...
I posted your interview to Facebook, and a series of friends who curiously overlook my regular updates about our dog tumbled out in the comments to say how much the article and you mean to them.
It's a coincidence that I have this Virginia Woolf quote on my Facebook info page, but I feel like it connects to what you write here:
"It seems that a profound, impartial, and absolutely just opinion of our fellow-creatures is utterly unknown. Either we are men, or we are women. Either we are cold, or we are sentimental. Either we are young, or growing old. In any case life is but a procession of shadows, and God knows why it is that we embrace them so eagerly, and see them depart with such anguish, being shadows. And why, if this -- and much more than this is true -- why are we yet surprised in the window corner by a sudden vision that the young man in the chair is of all things in the world the most real, the most solid, the best known to us--why indeed? For the moment after we know nothing about him.
"Such is the manner of our seeing. Such the conditions of our love."
From a nobody to a somebody .... Thank You. Thank you.
Ebert: There has to be the right reply to this, but "You're not a nobody" sounds so lame.
I know. Listen to this poem about no-ones and anyones and ask yourself which you are.
http://j.mp/bCbbh7
I like it in her Southern accent.
I'm just disappointed that I can't read the titles on all those books....
Hello Roger,
The Esquire article, and your post about it, appear to provide an opening for something I've wanted to say for a while. It would have appeared inappropriate in another context. Maybe it still is, but here goes.
I really, really treasure you. I treasure your thoughts and words and style, and the community you've built here. Knowing you're my countryman makes me prouder of my country -- perhaps even more so on the frequent occasions when I disagree with you on matters temporal.
The one-way nature of celebrity is frustrating. An artist or writer might touch you, and the arithmetic of it all stymies your human impulse to touch back. A form letter or a few moments at the head of an autograph line is no substitute for what you'd really like: the chance to give the person a hug.
I can't think of anyone who's done a better job than you of using of the Internet to break down that old wall.
Roger, please consider yourself hugged.
Wow. Between the Esquire piece and your blog you are doing an incredible service to many communities: journalists, journalism educators and journalism students; critics and others who aspire to write professionally; and people facing chronic illnesses or other physical struggles.
All of these words mean far more than any ephemeral movie review (not to be too insulting... but... who really cares what you and Siskel thought of "Bachelor Party" in 1985 - even if they can find it on Youtube forever?). Your words and self-disclosure (without pity) are a true gift from a talented writer and brilliant thinker and they will outlive not just you but most of us as well.
So: Thanks!
I thought it was a terrific article, well written, well balanced to show both your difficulties (and there seem to be many) but also your continued pleasures.
You are a true inspiration of how to walk through something difficult with grace, honesty and humor.
I agree with everyone who said it's a beautiful photo. It captures the joyful spirit of someone who is fully alive.
Roger, you have always been my favorit film critic. I really miss you from my "small screen", but your website makes up for it. Keep writing and THANK YOU!!!
I remain absolutely blown away at your vitality, candor and wit. I remember always liking you, in a general sense, but the past few months have really ramped up the respect level regarding all things spiritual and intellectual... love your blog, love your tweets, and tore through this Esquire interview in record time, sharing it with anyone who will listen.
I look forward to sharing bits of your gentle wisdom with my 3 kids in the coming months and years, and only hope that you continue to enjoy revelations of such a personal nature for another decade, at least... I'm being selfish here... it will help me guide my children as they head off into the world, yet if I only had what you've shared to date I'd still be eternally grateful.
Thank you.
Mr. Ebert,
I truly appreciate your willingness to take part in the Esquire interview. I began watching your show around the age of 7 or 8 (the memory is a little foggy!), and now, 12-ish years later, it amazes me to see someone who I have watched, read, and respected continue to rise up above every challenge. Thank you for this interview, this blog, and all the little insights into your facinating mind!
Josh G.
You, sir, are a wonder to behold. I am inspired by your words and your apparent courage. I am proud to have known you through your blog; it is with childlike joy that I look forward to a new entry. A wonderful article written by Esquire, a wonderful response written by you. I have now not had a drink in 17 days and I count you as no small inspiration. Thank you. Truly. I plan to get these words framed and put on my wall as a guiding light to my children:
"I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out."
Again, thank you.
Now that it is not a secret that you are in AA, Roger, I feel it allowable to say that I truly admire those of you who have gone before me, who are showing me what it means to have dignity and serenity in the face of things that make small men crumble.
My marriage may be ending. It's no one's fault, just one of those things which happens. Which means it's everyone's fault. Mine, hers. But I've done everything I can. I've given it an honest effort. And if the marriage ends, I'll take care of her until she's on her own feet.
Tuesday I celebrated 2 years of sobriety. My possible impending divorce, as agonising as it is, is not so terrible as to be worth a drink. How could I look at you, and what you've been through, and the men in my Wednesday night group, and what they've been through, without drinking, and then dishonor all that? I am not special. Better men than me have been through harder things and not drunk.
And the truth is, I don't have any desire to drink. Because of the program, the fellowship, and the example of men like you, who say things like: resentment is allowing someone to live rent-free in your head. Thank you.
Rog, here's what I did when I saw the photo:
I put my hand right below the nose, so all I could see was the upper part of your face and head. That's the Ebert I know from the old days, and love. Then I pulled my hand away -- and saw the Ebert of today, the one I know, and love.
You're the best of us. Still.
Alan
The Esquire piece helped hammer home all of the things I have known, but not KNOWN, about the way you live now. I've shown it to a bunch of friends, and they were all stunned -- many of them simply had no idea that you had lost the power of speech ("Yes, but not eloquence," I replied), among other things.
I remember you talking a long time ago about Wilfrid Sheed, the novelist and critic, who contracted polio at one point and was tired of being praised for his "courage" in dealing with it. In his mind, he had no choice except to get up every day and keep functioning the best he could, to live in spite of it -- and to live as much of the rest of the life that other people live when they have never dealt with such a thing.
I don't think there's a day that goes by when I don't think about that.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I find your honest writing to be beautiful and inspiring and your Esquire photo is simply elegant. Very lovely.
Many Blessings to you and your family.
I think anyone who interpreted the article as an elegy for a dying man is kind of presumptuous. I'm at present completely unencumbered by ailments of any kind and still find myself tiring eaisly in crowds and barely able to sit through [bad] films. But I guess that's just me.
FWIW I thought the article was an elegant tribute to a worthy writer. And that you embrace it the way you do is so gratifying to me. Also, I thought that photo of you was fantastic. It only helped enforce that bit about "he mostly smiles these days" etc., I guess someone who is unaccustomed to seeing a cancer survivor might find it odd. That's fair. But all I saw was a life affirming, very much alive, artist who has many miles to go before he sleeps. And I'm thankful for it.
Roger,
Forget rent free- I would pay you to move into my head. And you can bring all your books.
Mr. Ebert I’ve been reading these articles with happy/sad tears in my eyes. Unlike most, my true love of film blossomed relatively late in life; I had always loved the movies, growing up on a tiny island with not much else to do, but I discovered the richness of the cinema in my early 20s, a little before I migrated to the United States. It was the first time I had ever been completely alone, away from all that was familiar to me, and I sunk into a deep isolated depression. If it weren’t for the cinema I don’t know if I would have made it out of that dark time unscathed. With each new film I saw, I felt like I was going off on some kind of adventure; that I was Somewhere Else, and I wanted to bring back all that wonder to share with everyone around me…which is what you have been doing all these years. It makes me sad to look at the box office reports sometimes, but then I come on your blog and see the comments from so many people all over the world and I smile. Keeping the flame of passion alive in all of us is the greatest gift you could ever give. Thank you Mr. Ebert, is all I really have to say. Thank you so much.
Dear Roger;
The days in unfiltered access to celebrity are long gone. You have written numerous times about the control PR people have over movie stars. They sit by their side monitoring every question. It would have been the height of hypocrisy to do anything else than allow a fellow journalist full access to your life including the photos. You gotta admit it. You make a damn good story.
Here's what I take away from the piece. You're one of the lucky ones. We blessed few who have found a soul mate.
Thanks for the Lee Marvin link. I remember reading it all those years ago. It was well worth another look.
I started circulating the article as soon as I read it, and my friends began to repost it as well. To quote Brother Theodore, "It's dynamite! It's dynamite! Ladies and gentlemen, it's dynamite!"
I've told my friend Siouxzan Perry, who has repped many former Russ Meyer actresses, that if indeed they make that proposed biopic, I want her to call in a favor and let me audition to play you. I've been practicing your voice from all the years I grew up watching the TV show, and I think I can suggest the cadence while still playing a character and not just an impersonation. And yes, I want to be in a movie surrounded by significantly-chested women.
I just wrote at length about my friend Tamara Hernandez's 1999 film MEN CRY BULLETS, which you gave praise to on TV and allowed a pull quote of yours to be used for advertising. I am curious to know if you ever wrote a full review of the film for publication, since there was ultimately none published. Was it written and shelved when the movie failed to play first-run in Chicago? I am most curious to learn more about what you liked about the film.
http://projectorhasbeendrinking.blogspot.com/2010/02/ill-cry-tamara.html
Roger, your voice is as clear and vibrant in my head as ever. 2 days before I read this article, I had just sent links to your movie site to my now 19 year old son. When I did so, remembered watching you and Gene Siskel when I was about 11. Now, having watched nearly 2000 movies myself, I realize that the structure I use to 'review' movies myself was learned from you and Gene. Thank you.
PS- I have never forgotten your comment of something to the effect of 'I may not always be fat, but you will always be stupid'. It remains one of the funniest things I have ever read...
What struck me most in your photo - after the first second - was that very alive and curious expression in your eyes.
It's wonderful that your passion is intact, Mr. Ebert. I religiously go to your site to read your insightful reviews and articles. Thank you.
I was moved by the Esquire piece as well as this blog entry from Mr. Ebert. Admittedly, I haven't been a very big fan of his because our political views are diametrically opposed. But what I realized from reading these two articles is that I have been wrong in harboring bad personal feelings for someone because of their political views. We are all human beings and reading Mr. Ebert's sad, yet uplifting, story made me feel pretty stupid for some of the things I said about him in the past.
Moving forward, I am going to do my best to not take things as personal. Cancer could happen to anyone. It has no political affiliation. It has no job, except to do its best to kill people.
So thank you, Mr. Ebert, for sharing this story and for opening my eyes.
My reaction to the Esquire piece (I liked parts of it but not the whole) still stands but this entry makes it look a little better to me.
It was fun reading about those wedding photos. "Hey, first he criticizes me for doing something I didn't do and then he does it himself? My lovely schizo husband" :p
I'm happy about that photo. It simply shows the truth and for God's sake, it's just physical appearance. It's not like you're looking for a girlfriend.
By the way, I love that picture from the DGA ceremony. Why isn't there a clip of your acceptance on YouTube? That standing ovation would be more moving to me than the Esquire piece. (Not another comment on the article, only on how much I would like to see that manifestation of respect from people who's work you might have been hard on a couple of times)
I'm sorry if I became a bit annoying in one of my previous posts. I just thought the piece was a bit unfair to you. But I agree with Michael Lovelorn.
Mr. Ebert:
I live in Urbana (on Washington Street a few houses down from where you
grew up) and I always refer to you as a patron-saint of Urbana/champaign.
You've done so much good for the free library and the virginia theater. I grew up in chicago and read the Sun-Times, and in college loved the show we referred to as Fat Guy/Skinny Guy. So I feel like you've been around my entire life and although I am not a fan of Esquire in general (too male in everything) I'm going this interview. You are a true journalist understanding how profiles get put together.
Thank you.
"I think you may be too close to the photo to appreciate it. To me, it's a very humanizing picture. It draws attention immediately to the eyes, and invites the viewer to conversation."
I completely agree with this comment; s/he got to it before I did. When I saw the photo with the article (which I loved) I did, at first, find it surprising. But that was all. I did look at it closely, but mostly because as someone who has studied the bones extensively I was interested in it from a "skeletal" perspective.
I don't think it is a bad picture at all; in fact, I think you look wise, content, and comfortable with your lot in life. What more can we ask for?
My mother died on November 14, 2009, following a year of mysterious symptoms, doctors who wouldn't listen and a heartbreaking decline for a woman who once seemed bear-like, invincible. She was only 70. The one thing we always made sure to get her for Christmas was your new book of reviews. I remember watching you and Siskel on PBS and ever since, and I remember watching it with my mom. I learned from her that your opinions carried weight, reason, and a questioning, respectful appreciation for life and what it means. I leaned from her that these qualities and your nuanced way of thinking were good things.
You are a great writer. I miss my mother desperately and have been reading your reviews and your blog. I can say, "mom would really get that like I do," and it makes me smile. I finally decided to see a grief counselor. She gave me a gift - to ponder the manner of my mom's death as a metaphor for her life. What does it say about her and what can I learn from it? It has led me to further think of our lives as metaphor.
Your voice has been silenced, but it hasn't. You are a great writer.
Keep thinking, keep appreciating, keep being authentic. This is a gift you are giving. It is huge and permanent.
Interesting insight on the Esquire article. I look forward to reading it.
This is only the second blog post of yours that I have read, so you may have already addressed the issue of religious faith (or lack thereof?) elsewhere. I am not a religious person; I think I was born a tiny little skeptic.
So far, I like hearing your perspective on everything, so if you've written about that subject I look forward to discovering those posts if they exist.
Happy Thursday!
I was unaware of the Esquire article and now plan on reading it, but while reading of your voice, I remembered my dream last night. You were yelling at me; I think it was about a comment I left on your blog. I was thinking, 'Wait, I thought he lost his voice.' You said, "Oh, shut up!" Then I thought, 'Oh my God, he can read minds too!' Bizarre.
Nonetheless, great post.
Mr. Ebert,
As someone who spends much of his time concerned with what goes in and out of his mouth, it's very touching to see a life enjoyed so fully without the pleasure of food, drink, or self-satisfying quick wit. I know that pleasure is the least important element of happiness. However, those things we take pleasure in are (along with language and intellect) what make human civilisation any better than living in the wild. You have taught me much about taking pleasure from movies. You have taught me much about feeling movies, aesthetically and emotionally, about taking not just pleasure, but something more.
Thank you.
PS I recently read your review of The Green Berets. It was excellent food for thought for today's times.
It was an incredibly moving piece, though I understand that it must have been somewhat painful for you.
I noticed that the article mentioned a forthcoming "The Great Movies III." Any idea when that's coming? Those books are my bibles for movie-watching; I've already finished the first one and am going through the second one now!
Mr. Ebert: no matter how much of your work I read, I always find myself completely floored by your wit, positive attitude and grace. Thank you for letting us see into your life in such an intimate and honest way. I truly enjoy your seemingly boundless passion for self-expression - in both Mr. Jones' piece and in your daily blog posts. My best to you and Chaz!
Well I knew, reading that piece, that you're living far more vibrantly than it sounded. I think we who read you here all know that. But yeah, it is very well done. Also, anything that makes more people tune into your writing in this journal is a good thing, in my opinion. The gods know I have boorassed my friends until they read you and then they're hooked.
Thank you for the Esquire article, and for your reflections on it. Your writing has been such a regular part of my life that I take enormous pleasure and comfort in your current output. When I found myself writing some movie reviews more than a few years back I looked to yours as a model of how to do it right. When I got into grad school my wife bought me "I Hated, Hated, HATED This Movie" as a present. I consider being included in your May 19, 2002 column on funny movie titles one of the more delightful honors I've ever received. When I was in Chicago for a conference last spring, and played hooky at a museum, I kept my eye out for you on the off chance you'd decided to take in the Seurat that day. And I can't count the number of movies I've watched and enjoyed based on your recommendation alone.
I lost someone to a brief and nasty cancer a few years ago. I'm not over it. I don't think I ever will be. In a way, I view your writing over the last few years as a poke in cancer's eye. Please keep poking.
Its a brilliant piece, and your blog and tweets are some of the most thoughtful and fun things I read regularly. That said, as a web designer, there's been some chatter in the field of late about the destruction of online content after a person abandons their blog or, in the case I'm thinking of, passes away. Its presumptive to say, but you might want to consider making some sort of archival arrangement for your writings- not for now, or next week, or even in the next ten years, but eventually it will matter.
Just a thought.
I've always loved reading your columns for years, even if I never actually plan on seeing the movie. I just want to say thanks for the way you write. It reminds of Mark Twain, very too the point and not over the top, yet powerful and artistic. This magazine piece was one of the best I'd ever read and made me appreciate you even more.
Roger,
Don't worry about the face... it was your mind that we've admired all this time; and it is getting more beautiful each and every time you share it with us.
Best,
Ed
Something occurred to me when reading the Esquire article. In the section about those videos being removed from Youtube, they have programs out there which can download movies from youtube to your own computer, to be played whenever you want. That might be a nice method to save them.
Thank you for your openness and candor. I was moved by the piece in Esquire, and love reading the "behind the scenes" perspective you've given us here.
I was mesmerized by the Esquire article. I thought it was brave of you to put yourself out there in that manner, and I thought the piece portrayed you as a strong person. You stated in the article that you didn't want to be pitied, and I don't think I do. But is it OK to be very sad? Like a mourner, my sadness is personal and somewhat selfish. I am sad for what I am losing, such as the opportunity to participate fully in your famous Forgotten Film Festival as I had always said I would do, someday. But I am also sad for you, perhaps more than you are for yourself. I can understand that you don't want to waste time on such thoughts. Of course, I realize that you are not gone. And I hope you remain among us for a good long while. I am happy that you retain your love of movies. And I am happy that you enjoy communicating with us in so many ways. And I feel happy for you that you have such a remakable woman to share your life with. We should all be so lucky.
As another hero of mine, gone too soon, Warren Zevon said: "enjoy every sandwich."
I read and enjoyed the article very much. You’ve shared here some of the issues that you face, so there were no great surprises. What did come through was the confirmation of the remarkable grace that you’ve shown in this phase of your life.
As long as you can write, your voice is not silenced (and aren't you lucky to live in a time where you can still communicate with a multitude of people in near real time?).
Dear Mr. Ebert,
God I love you. Let me explain I began watching you with Mr. Siskel before I graduated in high school in 1982. So though you don't know me, we go way back. You helped shape my love of movies.
As a reporter, I've long loved your honesty, your writing style and your courage.
You make me proud to be a fellow ink-stained wretch. Even more you make me proud of the human species.
Sincerely,
Clyde Benjamin Ford
How curious that no sooner than I wrote a review of "Valentine's Day" using a quote from your "Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor" review, that the Onion's AVClub pointed me to the Esquire article.
It took me multiple tries to finish reading it, because there was so much of you and your pain in it, and I was reminded, luckily so I could share it with you, just how much you mean to to someone who learned to love movies from you.
I'm glad you're still writing, and I can HEAR your voice with every word you put down, and I'm looking forward to more of your incredible insights and honesty.
~
"To make others less happy is a crime." Nice sentiment but Wish you'd embraced it before giving "Limit Up" "thumbs way down!" *grin* I'm doing a documentary about reincarnation based on Michael Newton's work ("Journey of Souls") over 7000 people under hypnosis (including me) say we choose our parents, our lives, and our journey, as it builds our spiritual character. You will speak again Roger, your words carry energy that can help people's lives (according to the research) and based on this one, you've got a powerful, wonderful voice that will return again.
I can't tell you how many times you've made my day since you've established an online presence. Of all the movie critics I read growing up, you were the one I turned to before anyone else.
Your online presence has taken that insight to which I always turned, to levels I could have never imagined, but it makes so much sense that it has.
Whenever anyone scoffs at the idea of using Twitter, I think of the people that scoffed about the idea of movie critics, then I think of you and I have to laugh and say to myself, "there's no way I can explain to this person what they're missing".
But, I'm going to try! It's too fucking good to not share!
The article was very moving, and interesting in that it found in you a sort of tragic figure of cinema. I suppose it's never a crime for a storyteller to romanticize his subject, but at the same time... I found the "elegaic" aspect of the tone to be a little bit exploitative, maybe?
At any rate, I took it with a grain of salt, and welcomed a look into the life of a writer and cultural icon that I greatly admire. It's reassuring to see how your life has been shaped by love and friendship, and I hope to find the same kind of gratification in my own life. I trust that you will live and write for a long time coming.
I happened to come across the Esquire article on another blog and chose to read it at work (poor decision in hindsight). I was very near tears at the office; a true testament to how well it was written and moving it was. When I got home from work, I had my wife read it and she outright cried. We talked about you over dinner and how truly wonderful & inspirational it is what you have been able to realize of yourself after the surgeries. Jones has it right when he says you have become something more than you are.
Anyway, sorry to ramble on, but I wish you all the best and keep up the writing! (I check your page at least 5 times per work day = big fan).
-A
"For meaningful weight loss," the voice says, "I recommend surgery and a liquid diet."
You never cease to impress me, Mr. Ebert.
It was a very good piece about you, Mr. Ebert. I enjoyed learning a little bit more about your life. As a big Leonard Cohen fan, I was tickled to read that "I'm Your Man" was playing when you had that awful incident after one of your surgeries.
Please tell me that you either had the chance to see Mr. Cohen perform back in the day or on his recent tour. If you have not, I urge you to find a way to see his current tour, even if you think you may not be up to it in your condition. My wife and I recently paid thousands of dollars for front row seats and it was worth every penny to hear those songs sung right in front of you. Mr. Cohen is a truly gracious performer who appreciates the efforts of his band and the effect his songs have on his audience. I've been to a lot of concerts in my life but seeing him perform was a truly moving experience.
Like others, I have found a few of your recent tweets about conservatives annoying but realize that you have strong feelings on some of these topics and are not shy about expressing yourself. I just keep thinking that Mother Ebert must have raised you to be a wee bit nicer than the tone conveyed in some of those tweets!
Having been married for nearly twenty years to a truly amazing woman, I think I can say with some authority that Chaz sounds like a wonderful person. I have the feeling that, aside from her protective personality, she makes you laugh. I hope your keyboard has a nice, rollicking laugh button on it.
"...streaming Radio Caroline and writing late into the night."
Between that statement and the pic of you reading in your library, I'm pretty envious of your lifestyle.
Roger:
I applaud your guts, talent, physical and mental stamina, and humility. And speaking of kindness, do you recall a film called "The Mask of Dimitrios"? The Greenstreet character says to the Peter Lorre character, "There's not enough kindness in the world. If only men would live as brothers without hatred, seeing only the beautiful things. But no, there are always people who look on the black side."
I read this article on a link from the AV Club, and I loved it. I feel like it really let us into your life. And I can't explain in words how angry I was at the part where you keep making the text bigger and bigger. Somehow I find that more moving than if you'd been able to scream at the top of your lungs. Thanks for allowing this article to exist, it's why I keep coming back to your site!
And as a fellow Ottawa resident, I have to say that I'm happy to have Chris Jones in my city.
I did walk away from the Esquire article wondering if the writer was trying to imply there was a certain known limit on "the time you have left" that he wasn't going into more detail on. So, it is a relief, Roger, to hear that "the time you have left" is not set in stone. I suppose it would be a mistake to assume the author meant to imply anything when the rest of the article made every attempt to spare no detail. I'm not sure the details about every little physical observation he made were entirely necessary. I was more interested when the article got into the details of what's inside your head.
I agree with you it's better to show your picture. If you hide something from people that they're aware exists, they are likely to imagine it is more outrageous or shocking than it really is. Not to mention the old Mae West line that when people are easily shocked, the best cure is to shock them more often. Meaning in this case that the more we see of you, the more we will get used to your somewhat different appearance until we don't even notice it any more. The main reaction I had to seeing your picture was that you now seem to resemble Andy Warhol more than you used to. That's not necessarily a bad thing.
The idea that you have a more or less permanent smile is also an intriguing one. Since the article also suggested you're happier now, I wonder if it's true what some studies have said, that the physical act of smiling will actually make you happier, a reveral of the cause and effect we typically assume exists? It also suggests a horror concept that I wonder why shows like Twilight Zone never thought of...the man who must frown but can only smile. Would such a condition lead to madness...or happiness?
It was surprising and somewhat disturbing to learn that a lot of your health problems were caused by attempts to cure previous health problems. It only fuels a phobia I sometimes have about going to the doctor, that they're only going to make me worse or that the cure will be worse than the disease. It makes one recall the old story of how George Washington died not from a disease, but from the bloodletting meant to cure it. I don't blame you at all for not wanting to try reconstructive surgery again. Your mind is still the best part of you and no reconstruction of that is desired or required. As long as you're writing on your web site it is one site that will never need an "Under Construction" sign.
Chris Jones should frame this and put it as Line One on his CV. It's the equivalent of having Picasso walk into an artist's studio, look at a portrait painted of him and say "Couldn't have done it better myself".
Maybe its becuase I come from a different place than most readers - I did not read the Esquire piece as elegiac. In the article, I saw a man who takes what life has given him and made the best of it. We have one life, and we may as well do the best with it that we can, no?
as someone who is missing one of the major 5 senses, I think its very easy for people without disabilities or whatnot to fall into the 'heroic meme'. In Jones' writing - you can see glimpses of that meme. I do think, however, that emphasis is misplaced. You are merely moving into a new plane of your life, neither worse or better. I would say your quality of life is vastly better than most of us. Even those with auditory voices can't get our voice heard.
Keep on chugging, Roger and have fun!
Trying to put my finger on what's so resonant about your writing. I think in part it represents a Chicago tradition--common sense, accessible, none of the narcisistic, "look at me" elements you see everywhere else. It was even a welcome exception to the usual portraits in Esquire. Not many left (even in Chicago) that have that gift of expression, but we'll enjoy your work for however long can.
In Aug of 2005 God had mercy on me and delivered me from my sins thru His Son, Jesus.
Months later, I saw you giving a favorable review of the Da Vinci Code, and I remember thinking, "that old fool better shut his mouth and soon before God shuts it for him".
Then I noticed you missing from your show for some time and the next time I saw you I saw that His patience had indeed run out.
You still have time Roger. Don't be a fool and beg for mercy. You've been pimping Satan's filth for years and you have a lot to answer for.
Do it, NOW!!
Ebert: Did you intend to place a comma after "fool?"
When I passed the link for the Esquire article along to my wife, I mentioned that I thought your "voice" had never been clearer. I'm glad to be among many people who obviously think and feel the same thing.
A blog reader said he hadn't realized I was so frail.
FRAIL? I'm astounded. I read that article and saw only a picture of strength.
Roger, honestly, when I looked at your pictures, my first thought was, "Oh, look at all those lovely books."
"I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime."
Beatiful words Mr. Ebert.
greetings from Venezuela
The article did give me the idea that your medical situation was more dire than I had thought. I am happy to hear that this impression was wrong! My other impressions on reading were:
- I would like to live in your office. HOLY CRAP BOOKS EVERYWHERE. You've talked about it before but seeing is believing.
- I liked hearing more about Chaz. From what you've told us I am a fan, if that's not crazy or anything, she just sounds like a cool person and we should all be so lucky in love.
- Vinyl Records! Leonard Cohen! These are a few of my favorite things! I was inordinately pleased by this.
- I hope your medical misadventures are at an end now, because holy shit. That's enough misfortune for one lifetime. You stay well, now.
Thanks for the peek into your life. Please keep us posted about how your new voice is coming along.
I read the Esquire interview, then this response. I cannot tell you how much these two pieces made me tear up and made me laugh.
I've alway appreciated you and your way of reviewing films I never felt talked down to. And these two articles really showed me what a strong, funny and good man you are.
I hope to keep reading your reviews for many years you are the only movie critic I like to read even when you like or dislike I film I feel the oposite for I enjoy reading your comments.
Thank you Roger, keep well!
I enjoyed Chris Jone's article, I thought it was well written and was aware that the title of the article was referring to you not knowing what the last words you physically spoke were. Those words don't matter, they're forgotten and that's okay, as there have been many words from you since and many more to come. Where the words come from, whether it is your mouth or hand, doesn't matter. It is only what you say with them that I care about.
I was, admittedly, a bit surprised by the picture used for the article. I have no problem with the picture at all, that is you. But I am only familiar with the picture used for your articles and blogs and therefore, that is how I perceive you. So to see the present day you was both refreshing and further insight into what you have been through and how you live your life on a day to day basis.
It was a great interview, it was one that I wanted but I did not realize until I read it. It was well done and your insights into the interview and the interviewer further enhance the article.
I look forward to reading more from you.
Not a lovely sight. But then I am not a lovely sight, and in a moment I thought, well, what the hell.
Bullshit.
Loveliness is in the eye of the beholder, and I behold a man who moves me with his insight, his thoughtfulness, his style, his taste, his outlook, and his humanity -- AND his ability to convey those things in his writings.
Lovely to me, buster. And I'm damned glad to see you; dying my ass [beyond the universal state, of course!]. . . .
Thank you, Roger, for everything - for your excellent reportage over the years (even tho sometimes you are wrong!), for your wonderful blog, for letting Chris write this article, and for your response to it above. Thank you for your honesty about yourself. When I am having a bad day, sometimes I remember your own acceptance of yourself, and it helps me accept myself. I hope you are many increments away from that good night.
I, too, sat up when I read the headline about your "Last Words". I knew you had surgery. I had seen a recent photo of you but I thought "oh noooooo", that really sucks. And I felt another little piece of me had disappeared too. I thought about the time we worked together: the fun, the frustration, the arguments, the final product. I was proud of it & I hoped you were, too. So this is just a short note to say "hi" to you & Chaz. Now I'm off to read your "... Esquire interview with Lee F---ing Marvin.. "
--
Jan Rifkinson
Ridgefield CT USA
http://janrifkinson.blogspot.com
http://www.bogartsdaddy.com
janrif@gmail.com
The thing that I hope you take away from the Esquire article, and the overwhelmingly sincere and positive response you got from it, is that by doing (as Gene said) what you love and doing it well you've enriched everyone who has the pleasure to see your work.
You are a treasure to the city of Chicago, the Midwest, and the world. I'm glad that I have been able to see you do what you've done so ably for so long. I've lurked around your blog for years now, and I'm always glad to see a new post.
Now just don't let all this reacquired goodwill go to your head. The next thing you know, you'll only be hanging out with Paris Hilton, and telling us all how "hot" everything is.
"Resentment is allowing someone to live rent-free in a room in your head."
For someone like me, it's more like they're living rent-free in my soul. Can't have it for very long.
I have to admit that I haven't yet read the piece in Esquire. Mainly because I haven't found the magazine with your cover in my part of Ottawa. However, I have read the excerpts you posted and looked at the cover and it seems to be a moving piece and a good piece of journalism, which, I'm sorry to say, is a rarity today. I should tell you Mr. Ebert, that I have followed your movie blog and movie criticisms for a very long time, ever since I was little. Your writing shows knowledge, wisdom and you're one of the few critics left that is really passionate about movies and knows about the elements of film. I often read movie reviews, and often feel sick at the way some critics tear into particular movies and actors/actresses and really don't analyze in any meaningful way why it is they so disliked about a particular film or performance. Sometimes it is deserved, but most times it's not and it also reeks of bad journalism. That is why, on Thursday morning, I always faithfully come to your blog to read your reviews. Because I know I will get a good, informed, knowledgeable and sometimes philosophical opinion about why the movie stank or why it worked. Of course, I don't always agree with you, but I can always count on your to treat your subject fairly and without condescension. Your writing in the last years has only gotten better and I look forward to reading more of your blog every Thursday morning!
I thought it was a well-crafted and deeply-felt article. It made me understand you, your love for the written word, your fairness, and the depth of your perceptions about film, friendship, journalism, love and life.
You are even better at what you do and who you are than I had even imagined.
You, sir, are a class act. Your writing has inspired me for years and will no doubt continue to do so. Your willingness to reveal yourself in this interview and your understanding that it was not going to be a puff piece shows a unique strength of character.
Roger Ebert, you are the man!
Roger, You have unfailingly been one of my favorite writers for years. After seeing a film, I tend to agree with your perspectives and my love of cinema has grown due to your insights and criticisms. The article in Esquire was enriching and I enjoyed taking a "peek" into your private life, just to get a glimpse of an amazingly asute man with a true sense of life and self. Chaz and you are both lucky to have found one another and I feel assured that you are in good hands with this lovely woman by your side. The tone of the article was not elegiac as much as it was life-affirming. I was happy to see what I had guessed many years ago, that you love books as much as I do and you surround yourself with them. That would help to explain, in part, your eloquence and the many mellifluous reviews you have written. I wish there were a female equivalent to Esquire magazine, where the majority of the magazine is about good, tight writing. Each time I have the opportunity to read an article from Esquire, I have an momentary desire to come up with a concept to start Esquire for Women, but I hope that someone there will eventually come up with the idea instead. You are a national icon, but you are also one of the members of an august group from Chicago; Studs Terkel, Mike Royko, Irv Kupcinet, Paul Harvey and your late and dear friend and foil, Gene Siskel. I take pride in being a native Chicagoan, born of immigrant parents, knowing I am a part of a world-class city that has a small-town feel to it and appreciating that some of the finest writers and pundits in recent memory hail from this city. Your voice may have been silenced, but not your writing, and for those of us who have watched you, each line we read is resonating with the voice we remember. Thank you for allowing me into your sphere, albeit it remotely, but nonetheless, I am grateful for the glimpse into a remarkable life well lived.
The Esquire article was excellent. However, I disagree with your blog, "Let's face it. Esquire wouldn't have assigned an article if I were still in good health." In sickness and in health, with Siskel and without, you're a fascinating guy. I've subscribed to Esquire for years, and they've wasted ink on a lot less interesting guys than you, Roger.
My thirteen year-old son appreciated the article, too. He's a fan of yours, sort of. When you give one of his movies a poor review, the second Transformers movie for example, he thinks you're a crabby old man (sorry he thinks everyone over fifty is old). But when he agrees with you, The Hurt Locker for example, he uses your review as evidence that everyone should agree with his great taste.
Hello from an old Riccardo's and Hampstead Heath buddy, and thank you so much for drawing my attention to a beautiful piece about a beautiful man. If I were judging national magazine awards this year, chris jones would win another one. Long may you clap your hands in delight. We'll be reading. Fond cheers.
Ebert: Hey, Lynn!
If you go to the end of the previous entry, about Perambulating London, you find two great videos by Karl Heinz hat perfectly record the Perfect London Walk.
Mr Ebert,
I had to write you and say thanks for the many great writings and reviews you have produced over the years.
I began buying your Video Home Companion books when they first started to be released in the early 80's and I have never looked back. I wish I could write like you do.....so effortless and fluid. Each time I read one of your film reviews or essays I am always able to hear your voice and picture you gesticulating the major points you want to get across about a film's greatness or failure. That is a great accomplishment from a great writer.
I am currently reading through the two volume "Great Movies" books. Both volumes should not only be required reading in film school, but they should also be the standard from which all great essay writting aspires to.
Thanks for making films, and reading, so much more enjoyable.
Best Wishes.
I wrote a blog on my site about the Esquire article...
I have been following you since I was a little girl, watching you and Gene every Saturday night...after the Muppet Show...
I always had more of an affinity for you...and it was you who instilled in me my life long love affair of the cinema...
It was you that got a Black girl from the "hood" to get on the 6th Jeffrey bus and go downtown and catch the 151 and to explore those aspects...
It was you who let me know that I could attend the Chicago Film Festival...I didn't need to be famous...I only needed the price of a ticket...
It was you who instilled in me the need to see films that showed at the Fine Arts Theater...at The Music Box...etc.
It was you...
In the life I should be leading...I would be carrying on you and Gene's tradition...if you spoke to me...you would have no doubt of that...
However...this love that I have for fine films from any era began with you...
And for that Sir...I am eternally grateful to you...and Love you...
I liked the article and admire you for, once again, being so real. Your personality shines through and is a gift to the reader. I also like the newer photo and would love to see you use it. (I always thought the old ones portrayed you as much sterner than you are.) If you hate the hair, just ruffle it up and take another shot!
It's a good article, and I enjoyed it. But I thought he used just a bit too many of your own words in the final act. I like the title on the internet version.
I guess, as intimate as it is, it's less so than you have been yourself with those of us who've been with you on the Journal for a while. I liked the pictures. After your entries about being like the Phantom of the Opera and your descriptions of the surgeries in the entries about being unable to eat, I guess I had sort of let my imagination take over. But there you are. Roger Ebert. Same guy who came into my living room to tell me about movies that I knew I would not be able to see, but wished to.
A confession: I only made it to page 4 or 5 before I finally relented and clicked on the Scarlett Johansson "women we love" link. I just couldn't take it any more. Pretty nasty of Esquire to put those teaser pictures in the column next to your article. But, I got that out of my system and read of the article.
Thanks for the blog entry, Roger. How strange it must be to be interviewed like that -- it's sort of like a funhouse mirror; a reflection of you distorted by the perceptions of the person doing the interviewing. Sort of like a movie review, I suppose.
I enjoyed the Chris Jones' article very much. I do have to say, though, that there was a "dying now" aspect to it that gave me a sense of urgency. I have been reading your blog, reviews, and watched you religiously on television for over fifteen years (and I'm only in my twenties now). I felt compelled to make sure I hadn't missed anything - I went back and read old entries I originally wasn't interested in, and wrote a comment for the first time in over a year. I rarely comment these days because many other people already voice my thoughts so eloquently.
I am a frequent reader and commenter on Jezebel, which lately has been abuzz with features on you (usually forwarded from Twitter or articles like the Esquire interview). I wrote the other day that I always felt I owed you a piece of my life, which is true, I do. I realize how hyperbolic that sounds, but a hero is a hero is a hero, and you saved my life. The other commenters on Jezebel encouraged me to tell you, and that coupled with the article had me panicked that you were kicking the bucket this minute! I am so happy to read your entry today, and know that you are not. However, I am not sorry I told you, because today could be my last day, and it would be tragic if you did not know you had a hand in keeping life worth living for a stranger.
Mr. Ebert,
I will never shake the gentle hand of Fred “Mr” Rogers and thank him for his simple yet profound program, I will never march alongside Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, I will never see a TRUE PREMIER of a Shakespeare play, and I will never be in an audience while Ray Charles plays the roof off the building. I have made peace with all of this.
However at 26 years old with my first feature script stranded in development hell with the producer of my dreams and a director you have shown respect (I won’t name drop) I am more determined then ever that Roger “Full Disclosure” Ebert for better or worst will review of one of my films, before I die.
I can already imagine it, that Thursday before my movie is to premier in wide release I will sit down at my computer with my wife at 4:00AM-5:00 AM and wait until the review shows up on your website. I will consume your review, hang on every word, be it criticism or praise. And at that moment, I will cry like a new born because a young African American child from a violent inner city, who grew to success out of a home with two HIV infected parents, will have just crossed one more thing off his “they say this will never happen list”.
Keep strong Mr. Ebert for you have inspired such dreams with words!
With Respect,
SB
I thought it was a very well-written interview, very apt for one who has written many good interviews and other words. What Chris Jones said you said about contributing joy to the world really resonates with me. I am so grateful to have co-occurred with you in this little world of ours so that I can read your writing, your current commentary. You inspire me, and I thank you.
I will have to traverse your London paths the next time I am in town. Oh, and I watched Burma VJ last night. Truly stunning. The bravery of those video journalists humbles me.
What struck me the most about the Esquire piece was not the illness and surgeries and dying in increments, but that you are somebody who truly knows how to live. You are proof that no matter what challenges a person may encounter in life, happiness is always possible.
Thank you for being so honest and open about your life.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
Just a quick note to thank you for your openness with the photograph and article - especially against the larger context of a culture which sometimes worships physical appearance. If I may make an observation, your eyes look as keen and alert as ever. As I looked at the photograph, although I was of course saddened to see what has happened, I found my own eyes drawn to yours, and the brightness there.
Many blessings,
Eric
I often say that after my family and friends Bruce Springsteen has added more joy to my life than any other person. Reading the Esquire article made me realize that watching you and Gene since the 1970's, your books, and now your online work, you are on the list right after Bruce.
Thanks so much!
You sir, amaze me. I am not taken to idolatry but if I were...
I am a professional writer. Film (next to my family) is my greatest love. My wife is a travel consultant and we have been many wonderful places across the globe. Thus it is that your words draw me like no one else's, returning me to places I have been, sights I have seen, and emotions I have experienced. But more than that, through your words about film, travel, food, people and philosophy, you have introduced to me (and so many others, I am certain) new ideas, new perspectives, and new beliefs about life and, indeed, who we are as individuals and as a species.
I admire you for your strength and your conviction, but most of all for your voice, which has never been stronger.
And all I have for you is a heartfelt but inadequate thank you.
Having known you for nearly three decades, the last 25 years only through other media, I was struck by this piece (alerted to it by a friend in NY on Facebook Monday night, btw) and was awaiting your take on it. Impulsive and trusting - that is what my mom always says about me (she's 91, I'm 61). How did we then become journalists and survive? In your case, bravery, honesty, compassion, humor, and, of course, excellent writing, observations and insights. I don't know how many Twitter followers you have, but I'm one and you are my most prolific poster, so, yeah, perhaps the blurbers overdid it with the last words and frail...the piece also shows you walking near the lake with Chaz, going to screenings regularly, and so on, despite the operations increasing the degree of difficulty.
I love the photos you selected here, especially the profile in your library. Our appearances change with age, anyway, much as we wish to fantasize those wrinkles and scars away, not to mention the pounds in some cases, but since your weight is going the opposite direction than most of ours, that's a face-changer, too. And you did have a prominent jaw for most of your life [You're looking particularly square-jawed in that one pre-op shot with Chaz], so the fact that you allowed a magazine photographer to shoot a close-up, straight-on portrait (courageous and risky to one's self image for anyone over 50, much less one who has endured repeated surgeries), in which you look rather Puck-ish, is surprising for those of us who haven't seen you in person for a long time. Funny, your remark about the hair - I didn't see a stylist credit, but your locks DO look straighter and more combed than the full white mane we're accustomed to. The interplay about the wedding photos and the house cleaning show, once again, your serendipitous pairing with Chaz.
I think it was a wise if impetuous decision to have Chris Jones do the interview, to allow him access, and to quash your vanity and let your character shine through. Bravo!!
I've really enjoyed your writing in a new way, Roger. I think that the loss of your spoken voice has caused me to pay greater attention to what you write.
I also want to tell you that I've been sharing your reflections with my mother-in-law, who has a tracheostomy. This was the result of several intubations over a week for rapid-fire surgeries to save her from a MRSA infection she acquired post-op. She did live, but the damage to her vocal cords is permanent. She lives with the cruel choice of being able to speak, or being able to breathe well enough to do more than walk across a small room. No surgery or treatment for this has helped, and some have hurt, so she too is in a place of "no more". Now it's about living the best life that is possible, and loving what is rather than hating what is not. I think your writing has really helped her have a feeling of community. I will continue to print and share your written voice with her, and I thank you warmly for being so open.
Nice article. For some reason the character "Big Daddy" came to mind. Although I'm not sure if I could say why exactly. There's some sort of parallel there, I think. But I don't think I'm smart enough to say why that is. No offense intended.
n
I love that you write that the person you are now is there in your writing. (I'm paraphrasing.) I feel the same way- often, people who meet me after they read my writing are surprised that I "don't seem like the person they've read." I tell them that the person they read IS me; the person they're meeting in the flesh has a headache and a sinus problems and is preoccupied with paying this month's gas bill.
Thank you for writing so much, your writing a gift we're thrilled to receive.
I actually thought that the triumph of the piece was that while it was elegaic, it wasn't maudlin. Despite the headline, the emphasis was on how you're currently doing some of the finest work of your career, in spite (or perhaps because) of your recent battles. The tone of the piece neatly mirrored the reflective tone of this blog.
Roger,
Your honesty and eloquence are an ongoing inspiration. Thanks for posting your feelings on an excellent profile, making the original reading of it an even richer experience.
ADD
I thought Chris Jones did an amazing job. Reading his article on you, and then reading your article on Lee Marvin, I understood why you chose him. You both sink your writings into the environment of your subjects, and you write, in a way, in their voices, their tones, and that evoke the colors of their characters so much more vividly and intimately.
Being an interviewer yourself, it must have taken a lot of self-restraint to not try to be both the interviewee and the interviewer. I thought you did a good job on that.
People dwell on loaded words like "dying" as if that automatically means something more. Words only mean as much as the context they are situated in. I thought one of the most touching moments of the piece was when Chris described you watching "Broken Embraces", and how it looked as though you were "sitting on top of a cloud of paper." That speaks way more of you as a person than "dying in increments," but no, "clouds" and "papers" are just not heavy enough words.
Either way, you are still here and you are writing, and you have the last word(sssss), and that's good enough for me.
Keep fighting, Mr. Ebert. I went through this with my parents, long before there were the type of modern miracles science offers today. My father fought like crazy, but back decades ago, the stigma of such radical surgery was overwhelming. The same for my mother, but she kept going for years, made a life for me, for which I'm exceedingly grateful.
Watching my parents, I know first hand the courage it takes to fight invasive illness, but the love of life is fierce, which you certainly have shown.
I normally do not pay attention to the personal lives of those who occupy positions of celebrity, for lack of a better term, but I came by a link to this article after reading Mr. Ebert's review for "A Serious Man". Oh man, what would I do without Ebert to provide some insight into a movie that leaves me scratching my head, trying to figure out if I just saw something wonderful or terrible?
I could not resist reading the Esquire article because I was shocked and a bit scared. I had no idea that Mr. Ebert had been through all of that because, as I said, I do not pay attention...I feel as though I'm a peeping Tom or something if I indulge in the gossip. It just don't seem right to me; it feels dirty and wrong. But anyway, since Mr. Ebert provided this interview of his own accord then I found it acceptable to read; although, that's never a guarantee that the truth is portrayed. Soooo, I then came to this journal entry to make sure, and I'm glad I did.
I am so glad that Mr. Ebert continues to write; not just for selfish reasons, but because it is good for the soul. A mystery that has puzzled me for some time was solved through that interview. I've wondered for a long time why in the hell Mr. Ebert was giving away so many damn starts all of a sudden. I was aware that he had been sick, thought he was all better with no lingering issues, and suspected that maybe it had something to do with that...but I wasn't sure. Now it makes total sense and I think it's pretty damn cool. We all can learn something from that. Along with the rent-free room in the head. Words of wisdom that can help us see things in a different light and I am always grateful when someone is willing to share.
Roger,
I am so glad you did this interview. It was beyond uplifting. I ran through a whole range of emotions, but in the end I did not feel depressed at all.
It showed me the same and also ever changing Roger Ebert. It provided for me the continuity of your persona from when I first knew you in the mid to late 1960's at the U of I. To me you are and are not the same person who would burst into the Student Union, The Capitol or the Turks Head with energy to spare. I see and feel that same energy from the memory photo I have of you from the past and the one used in this interview.It was such an honest interview.
Just keep on doing what you do.
Incrementally yours,
Mike
Rog -
I was less intrigued by the tabloid-esque detailing of your injuries (old news by now), and more interested learning about your writing process.
Furiously ripping pages off a spiral notebook in a darkened movie theatre?
Surely that must piss off your fellow critics in the screening room...
The Esquire article made it sound like your reviews come to you quite effortlessly.
Almost as if they appear pre-packaged through divination, or by way of channeling the akashic records.
Reading it I almost stopped and thought "By jove, soo THAT'S how he does it!"
Really interesting to peak behind the curtain and find there's a real wizard back there after all.
It was real, genuine, intimate - a wonderful piece of journalism and yes, it put us closer to you. I always wonder if I would be so fond if you if I didn't live in Chicago. You're one of our few "stars" and so you kind of belong to us. An Ebert spotting is right up there with an Oprah spotting, and much better than a Vince Vaughn spotting.
I don't know why, but I never fully grasped the reality that we would never hear your voice again until I read Chris Jones' article. I think it's because you have continued to be so "vocal" through your writing which I read constantly.
Thank you for agreeing to the interview, and thank you for writing this lovely follow-up. Your perspective is so peaceful and sensible; it's been enlightening to read your feelings. I will certainly share your post with my friends as I shared Jones' article.
Dear Roger,
What a refreshing soul you are.
I love your frank open humorous thoughts and acceptance of what is a pretty intense reality.
I resonate with all this so much.
Thank You for sharing all this with us.
I posted a link to the Esquire story on my THYCA support group.
Everyone there is dealing with anaplastic thyroid cancer, which I am 11 years from diagnosis.
During the course of the first 18 months, I was told "IF" I lived I would be in need of reconstructive surgery and possible new vocal chords.
I spent long periods without a voice and unable to eat or drink, lost 65 pounds and stayed awake all night before each scan.
For whatever reason I made it through whole.
I still have most of my salivary function and other than minor side effects and a need for Attivan I'm almost unbelievably healed.
When I first noticed your disappearance and the small amount of information about it, I had that clenching feeling, and wondered what had happened.
By doing the Esquire piece and yes, showing the destruction that can happen to what is such an important part of who we perceive ourselves to be... the FACE, you have helped me heal my own scars, the ones that don't show.
I am so glad you have a strong beautiful partner. She is an angel.
I am not religious, but I am aware that some words are applicable.
Bless you both, and keep shining and sharing!
What wonderful writers on both sides of that interview. And on your side, more than a little courageous. So glad to have found it, and your wonderful blog as well.
As a journalist and survivor of Stage III tonsil cancer -- though my experience was a walk in the park next to yours -- I had to laugh aloud at your line, "Well, we're all dying in increments."
Indeed, we are. And I'm glad you made it clear that you're not dying, other than incrementally.
Mr Ebert
You are one of my favorite writers. I cant wait for my friday sun-times to arrive on my doorstep so I can drink in your words. Your movie reviews fill me with so many emotions. Joy, sadness, anger, excitement...I love them. People should not be allowed to write film reviews if they are not passionate about film-making and you are full of such wonderful passion. I pray that you will be around a long time so that we can continue to be blessed by your writings. I know where you stand regarding religion but I believe in a wonderful and loving God and I will pray that He will bless you and touch your heart. I hope that doesn't offend you. I don't mean too.
Your very loyal fan, Elvia
I like Lee f------ Marvin. Reliable.
I've greatly appreciated your blog, and thought the article was very well done.
Life has strange twists and turns for all of us, but it's how we respond to them that really matters. And the way you've responded to your changes in life is instructive and illuminating.
Thanks for sharing with us.
Roger,
I enjoyed the article because it added to the jigsaw of who Roger Ebert "is." It is very easy for me (as one of the admitted conservatives) to think of you in very segmented pieces. I read some of your thoughts and opinions about people I admire and I get a little angry sometimes; sure you are entitled to your opinions but sometimes the barbs on the spears you cast are sharp. But in that discomfort I learn about myself and about others.
I read about your sojourn to sobriety and after and it is easy to envision me sitting next to you on a barstool in a London pub, or at an AA meeting in some indistinct office building. Your writing is intoxicating (no pun intended). I often see your words as if in a screenplay for film noir. A lot of sepia tones, but therein lays the tone and mood.
All of the characters you have met in your life intrigue me. I would have liked to meet "my new best friend." I wish I would have been there when you interviewed John Wayne. After reading the piece, I may have held you down while the Duke gave you a pink belly. Who knows?
I made a comment a while back about getting part of your blog-family together to celebrate the coming together of many diverse people, cultures, ideas, etc. You mentioned that it was hard for you and I didn't understand it. You seemed, apart from maybe self-esteem issues, in fine health. You write vibrantly, so why would it be difficult for you physically? I for one could care less what you look like or whatever difficulty it would be in communication. I think it is because you never wanted pity and in your proud heart admitting to your daily struggle could appear as if you do. But reading the Esquire article made it clear. Now I understand.
And I don't feel pity. I think we all wish we had a Chazz. I think if there is a story in your struggles, the love that you obviously have for one another is it.
I think the one thing about your blog is that many of us feel a part of something. Most of us admire you for one thing or another. Whether it is movies, philosophy, politics, etc. I don't agree with much of what you believe, but you would not be as interesting to me if I did.
Anyway, I enjoy being a part of this family even if it is as a distant cousin.
I was greatly moved by your reaction to the video of your tribute show being pulled. I sent links of the interview and quotes to the Paley Center for Media and the UCLA Film and Television Archive. I'm hoping someone contacts you and gets you personal copies so you don't have to rely on what Disney allows you to see.
Someone? I have a coach party living rent free in the valleys of my mind.
I thought that article was long and depressing, much my life i guess.
Dear Mr. Ebert --
I've long been a fan of your writing for its insight and humor. Your book of movie clichés, for example, is a reference on my desk here, a constant and fun reminder to try to come up with things I've never seen before.
After reading the Esquire piece and this modest, open response to it, I am also a fan of you as a human being.
I hope one day to learn to face adversity with such class, wisdom, and generosity.
Thank you.
I absolutely loved the piece on you. I thought it truly told a story about your life now, and it was uplifting to me in many ways. Your attitude and happiness are a real delight to see and I thought Mr. Jones did an especially good job describing the situation where you became angry at the deletion of your tribute video...I actually start crying (Disney is so mean!). As someone who has mild facial disfiguration myself, I completely understand what you're saying about not looking in the mirror. It's important not to dwell on those things. How you described feeling when seeing the photograph is the same shock I feel sometimes when confronted with my appearace. But I can also say that I've learned that we're always harder on ourselves. I love the picture.
I can't wait to read old posts on your blog and new ones...you seem to be getting better with each passing day!
Sincerely,
New Fan
Dear Mr. Ebert --
I've long been a fan of your writing for its insight and humor. Your book of movie clichés, for example, is a reference on my desk here, a constant and fun reminder to try to come up with things I've never seen before.
After reading the Esquire piece and this modest, open response to it, I am also a fan of you as a human being.
I hope one day to learn to face adversity with such class, wisdom, and generosity.
Thank you.
Roger, I have followed your writing since 1990, and have always been a great fan. The Esquire interview was so well done that I read it aloud to my wife, who has previously heard me quote your movie reviews at length. We both wish you warm regards - you are truly a hero to many, never so as you are now.
"Frail" may have been the wrong word. I know I said that, but perhaps someone else did, too.
I know I don't know you, Roger, but I feel like I do. It seems to me we'd get on famously. I know that's uncertain, of course, and probably a little crazy.
I used "frail" because I was surprised into it. Your illness and its aftermath bother me. They bother me the same way it bothers me when I see that my father is growing bent and old. I remember him a certain way, but when we spend time together I realize he's no longer that way. I don't want him to change. Your writing and thinking is so strapping that it's a surprise to think of you having trouble climbing stairs. Why, you should bound up them!
Dave
The Esquire article was indeed moving and kind of a bitersweet read. It was illuminating and moving but also a little bit sad (as most lives are. I guess). Still, I wish you the best Roger since you've shaped my life in so many ways; not only are you a great critic and writer but an amazing human being. I liked movies before meeting you but really loved them afterwards. So, from the little city of Queretaro in Mexico (that urgently needs better movies on its theaters), I wish to thank you.
I thought the article was honest, but melancholy. I've been reading Roger Ebert's tweets, reviews, and blog, and so had to reconcile that Roger, with the Roger in the article. Your response here today reassures me that Original Classic Roger, is still there.
Two things though. First, I still miss Siskel's reviews and your show. I loved loved loved watching every weekend, and it definitely helped me to appreciate movies in a more thoughtful way. Thank you both. Second, I wanna hang out in your library and look through all your books.
Roger,
Chris Jones ranks with you among the nation's best journalists, so it is fitting he would have the honor of writing a truly fantastic profile of a man I consider my hero.
The section regarding your relationship with Gene Siskel, ending with you "screaming at the top of your lungs" was poetic, dramatic and powerful. It is my favorite part of the piece.
One question I had, though: I vividly recall you saying once you did not take constant notes during movies, unlike some of your peers. That you found note-taking during screenings distracting in some way. This, obviously, was contradicted in the lede of the story.
Is my imagination playing tricks with me, or did you never write that you disliked taking notes?
Keep writing.
Thanks,
JD
Ebert: I'm not always moved to take notes, but that film was so rich.
Roger,
I read the Esquire piece quickly the first time,ready to rise up and strike if the writer stepped to far.The second time I relaxed and enjoyed it.The picture,it's funny I noticed how neat your hair was too!!but really Roger it's all in the eyes.Like many of your regular readers I am a bit smug when others reference the article and I tell them to come here for real and wonderful story telling.
I just finished the article and it was wonderful. You may remember the closing lines of your review of Jackie Brown, in which you say you wanted the characters to live on for hours and hours. I felt the same way after the article. I wanted to read more.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
Just as Billy Wilder, Akira Kurosawa, Jean Pierre Melville, and Martin Scorsese are my heroes in film making, you are undoubtedly my hero in film critique. Your critiques have inspired me to expand my appreciation and exploration for films (as in truly great films) to a higher level within the last 5yrs. Having watched most of your top picks from every country, era, and genre, I truly pity many mainstream film-goers who are missing out on the cinematic treasures of this world. It's kind of like something you've once said to someone who thought Transformers 2 is a good movie "...if you think thats a great film, then your taste in movies have not evolved..."
Although I have a great deal of respect for the views of many of your colleagues like the late Gene Siskel and Pauline Kael, and even to a certain degree with your contemporaries like Armond White, your witty and objective articulation of a film truly helps people identify the merits and flavor of that film, without biases towards any ideology or contents about the film which people may find objectionable ...which I see as a big contrast between you and Armond White.
Again, just want to show my utmost respect and appreciation and hope you continue to inspire many other writers and cinephiles like myself!
-Nick C from Los Angeles, CA
Roger,
I'm very, very pleased to say that you will never have "last words." I just rented Citizen Kane from NetFlix and watched it for the first time in 20 years. Afterward, I took a look at the special features and was happy to see that I could watch the film again with voice-over commentary from you. I selected this option and the film began again with that great RKO logo and your voice. Your voice! What a thrill for me to watch Citizen Kane with you as my guide!
Thank you!
Steve Zeoli
Brandon, Vermont
Good article in Esquire. I don't take the time to read 6+ page articles about just anyone. As I said when I posted it on Facebook, you're my favorite liberal.
My sister has always thought it's corny that I put so much stock into what you and some other movie critics have to say about movies (my libertarian-conservative principle are too firm to be dented). But you and Gene, I think, made me a better movie-goer. You probably also saved me a few bucks over the years.
Long you live. Thumbs up.
Mr. Ebert-
Put simply, you're one of the biggest inspirations of mine. I can't wait to go to Ebertfest again this year. I went last year and saw, "My Winnipeg." Watching you come up and introduce the film was one of the greatest moments of my life. I've admired you for years, and to actually see the man I call my hero in the flesh was powerful. The Esquire article was intense, and I'm glad it was written. Thank you for opening up to everyone. I'll never listen to Cohen's "I'm Your Man" the same again.
Now at a certain age with an accumulation of memory and experiences, I've found the value of pictures lies beyond what we see, a physical reflection incapable of capturing the fullness of a thought. But within a flash of frozen time, there is a spark that sets the mind wandering and the senses engaged- where a Thanksgiving photo unveils smells and comforting voices long past, where two bodies at the beach return you to the laughter and embraces of friends that survived their health and youthful loveliness. Within a memory of you and Mr. Siskel sitting in the balcony, there will always be that period of living we all experienced together.
Mr. Ebert, over many years and various media, I have always enjoyed and valued your knowledge about film- an interest of mine taken root in the next generation of my family. Of more substance, at least of the lasting kind, is your profound influence on this new adult who balances career with a cultivated interest of culture through books and film. An admirer and faithful reader of your words, intellect and wisdom, many of your columns are passed on to me in emails we share not as parent/child but of mutual interest. Your photo goes beyond the image, it keeps you close in hearts that are engaged in your struggles and successes, and in whose minds, your voice echos untouched.
That is a great portrait, not only of you but of the human will to live, and persevere. So what if your jaw is slack? It's still smiling. Kudos to photographer Ethan Hill -- this portrait stands shoulder to shoulder with the great George Lois Esquire covers. A thousand words, indeed.
Like many I was first exposed to you via television, but in retrospect that's almost a shame. Television conveyed your passion but not (sufficiently) your tremendous skill with words.
It's obvious you recognize that true writers, or thinkers/artists of any kind, require only a potent inner voice, not an outer one. It would be a much better world if more folks focused on cultivating that voice instead.
You've been a great gift to us all. Keep up the great work.
The Esquire article is fascinating, though it pales in comparison to your reviews, commentary, and journal entries. I've never met you and likely never will. But I've been reading your work for over a decade (and watching your show for years prior), and I have come to consider you a dear friend.
Thank you for your contributions to this world, Mr. Ebert. Your consistent spiritual triumph over cancer is truly an inspiration. I know I am not alone in feeling gratitude that you have chosen to share your battle with us.
I think it's a great photo of you. It's startling---I remember what your pre-surgery jaw used to look like, and the change is dramatic---but you look like Roger Ebert with a post-surgery jaw, and seeing your so-familiar-to-me face, especially your sparkling eyes, makes me happy. Even though we have never met in person (or maybe we shook hands at an opening once, but that doesn't count) your face is one I feel that I know.
And the article is beautifully written. And you are admirably candid. And, as always, I have a tremendous crush on your amazing wife! Every interview with her, every appearance of hers, just cements my opinion of her as one of the Awesome Humans who makes the world a magical place.
Thanks again for your integrity, Roger. It shines through.
Another aspect of the interview that also shines through is that you're a techie at heart, whether it's about the details of projecting and viewing a film, playing with your Apple products, or your dependence on having a working IP address. So here's some pragmatic advice on tethering: jailbreak your iPhone with redsn0w or sn0wbreeze (depending on whether it's a 3G or 3GS, OS version, and all that—be sure to back up beforehand), then use the accompanying Cydia app to install 3G Unrestrictor and PDANet to tether your Macbook to the internet over the iPhone's 3G network connection, anywhere and anytime you've got 3G access on the iPhone. You'll also probably wish to install WinterBoard and use some Third Man background for the iPhone. Please post a screen shot when you're done.
Hi Roger,
I enjoyed reading the Esquire article. It gave me a bit of an insight of who you are. I got pretty angry when I got to the Disney part. And I loved the Lee Marvin piece.
What I’d really like to read are your notes from that day. Did any of them include...
“I’m a little scared right now. I fear something bad is going to happen if this guy doesn’t get his beer.”
I hate to only think of this piece in terms of what effects me, but, hey, everyne already covered all the stuff about how moving it was and all, right?
So when can we expect to see Great Movies III? And any chance of it being offered in a signed edition? I missed out on the first one, to my thus-far unending chagrin.
There was definitely an elegiac tone to the piece, but man was it well written.
I don't want anybody thinking you're dying either. Fact is you are at the top of your game right now (even if you are more generous with the stars these days than you were before), and it only gets a lot better from here.
Love your work Roger.
As a faithful reader of your film reviews since becoming literate, I must say that you were always my favorite film critic. I cannot say that I have always agreed on your film reviews, but you regularly point me in the right direction. I cannot remember the amount of times I decided to watch or rent a movie based on your thoughts alone.
While I may have stumbled into you because of your thoughts on film, since you have started your blog, I have become an even bigger fan. I love all your topics and thoughts. I am sure it cannot hurt that you are liberal, a U of I grad, and a Chicagoan. I think it's important that you know how thoroughly enjoyable you are as a writer of daily life. Life in general. I don't know if your illness caused the creation of the blog as a way to get out all the thoughts out of your head you would normally speak, but If it was, then you made a fine wine with lemons.
As a side note, I would not dare call you a film critic again, probably never should have. You are just a fantastic writer who happened to be relaying your thoughts perfectly on film. Thanks.
Mr. Ebert,
As a student of Gay Talese, Joan Didion, Truman Capote and all those "new journalism," folk of the 1970s and made newer by Walter Harrington and Jon Franklin (still savoring the dinner I had with him) when I began my newspaper career in the late 1990s. I attempted with some modest success to follow in their footsteps. And it was a delight to read the Esquire piece. Chris has learned well from the giants who went before him. It was a classic Esquire profile where you felt, heard and just a little bit, maybe understood someone you have never met. Frank Sinatra Has A Cold is still my favorite Esquire profile, but this is a close second. But I read it with much emotion because I had no idea of your illness. I grew up in Chicago but left to pursue my career in journalism at age 17. You were as much a part of my life as anything as I was a film lover, but a book lover first. The profile shocked me. I was floored at all that had happened to you and it was like getting to know you all over again. Now I'm pleasantly surprised to get what I've always wanted as a writer - the full impact of words on article subjects. I feel like I'm overhearing a secret of the universe reading your thoughts about someone else's words about you. Amazing on both counts. I'm thoroughly happy to have stumbled upon both the Esquire profile and your journal.
So glad that you are still with us and will keep reading you, hopefully for years to come.
I must admit I have not read the Esquire piece but became interested in your situation based on our commonality: my having had a tracheostomy and immobile vocal folds that leave me gasping to breathe and struggling to create an (artificial) voice.
Is it possible that you have, or are about to, become, a voice for the voiceless, i.e., those of us who cannot speak due to cancer, throat injuries, car accidents, etc.?
I don't know, but I sure hope so, because the story of folks with the "invisible disability," the inability to speak, needs to be told.
Please consider delving into the topic of voicelessness. People need to understand the plight of those who can see and hear but cannot create a voice, human, artificial or otherwise.
God Bless You Mr. Ebert. May saint Blaise look upon you with love and care.
I saw the article yesterday at Jezebel (where they all adore you, by the by) and was shocked, pleased, happy, angry, and than happy again as I read.
I have to admit, though, that the tone at the end, while beautiful, rang a Naussica bell for me, as though you had waved your hand in sad and fond farewell, and were now about to seal yourself in a Wisdom Bubble with your books and internet and Chaz, to float off and away above the world. This clearly is not true. Anyone who has read your posts on London, or seen pictures of gorgeous Chaz, knows that you are absolutely present in the world, that you roll around in it, rub it in your fingers and pour it over your head.
And while I still don't tweet, I can see why the speed of it appeals--it really is as close as we get to just attaching a megaphone to our cerebral cortex and pressing the ON button. Perhaps this pendulum swing will lead us to the virtue of temperance, as a poster above described? We can only hope.
Keep enjoying, as much as you can, because the rest of us love hearing about it, as much as we can.
Dearest Roger,
What an extraordinary experience this has been. As thousands of others have commented, I have followed your reviews from Siskel & Ebert to your online reviews after Gene's death and now on to your journal, hanging on every word. What an incredible journey to know that as I type these words, you will read them. You! Roger Ebert, the famous movie critic and writer! I may never meet you or know you personally or even know if this comment disappears, but for a fabulous instant I can reach out through the universe, in this weird internet way, to connect directly to a human being whose profound observations simply astonish and inspire me. It gives me shivers. I'm just another middle-aged, Midwestern woman who grew up going to Steak n Shake and hanging out at the movies but wishing I was in Paris watching "Casablanca" in a tiny cinema while it rained outside. The movies are our last true art form, and no one in history has interpreted their artistry better than you.
I have a son who is 12, and is becoming the sort of reader and movie-watcher and general observer of life and art that I always hoped for, and he loves reading your reviews. Keep on pouring out those words, Roger. I tell my son it's like love -- you can never run out. We'll be reading you forever. Thank you!
I honestly think you should consider replacing your photo on your home page with this Esquire photo of you.
When I first saw it, I admit it was a bit shocking. I attribute this to the fact that after seeing your face on TV and in print for decades now, your image has been burnt into my brain. The juxtaposition of this new photo with past photos of you is jarring, to say the least.
So I looked at it again.
And again.
Then I just stared at it.
Now that the initial shock has dissipated, you know....I actually think it's a fabulous photograph. Obviously, you don't look like you used to, but I don't see anything hideous or monstrous in that photo. Not in the slightest.
Not only is it a true representation of what you really look like now, I think it projects a warmth that past photos of you have rarely captured. You are positively GLOWING in that photograph.
Maybe it's that smile. Most of your press photos show you as the serious, contemplative film critic, very stern and austere. But somehow this photo not only captures your piercing intelligence, but it captures two other characteristics I know you have in abundance...
...your wit and your joy.
What a great time we live in. A day after reading an interview in Esquire I can read the subject's own impressions of it via their own self-publication. I'm glad it was a good experience all around.
On another note, Esquire editors prefer short, neat abstractions in their prose (i.e. "Roger Ebert is no mystic, but he knows things we don't know.")which can become slightly irritating. It is supposed to make a piece lively and emphatic but it only makes it self-important, especially when the subject is some waif of the moment rather than an eminent journalist such as yourself.
Roger,
Unlike many here, I've never been a great lover of movies, and I don't know much about your esteemed film critic career. I found your journal through a link by Linda Holmes at npr.org's culture blog Monkey See. From the first day I found it, it's been bookmarked in my must-read column. You are an amazing, true, beautiful writer. Your tribute to Jermyn Street put a lump in my throat--and I've never been to London. I hate sensational, melodramatic, manipulative art (whether writing, movies, or music), but what you do is moving because it's so true and so human.
I thought that the Esquire piece captured that part of your work, and how it reflects your own true humanity. It was a brilliant piece on a brilliant subject.
Also--I've never seen a picture of Chaz before. You insanely lucky man. I could tell from the article that she was smart and caring and delightful. I didn't know she was also so hot! I wish many days of joy for both of you.
Since, I have been through similar, although not quite as drastic physical transformation, I think of my condition in terms of a movie reference. I think of myself as the black knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Even after being hacked to bits he does not quit.
My trail started with a loss of my ability to deal with spicy food. Then a hemiglosectomy added a speech impediment and some challenges eating. Finally, a third surgery intensified the impediment and eliminated my ability to swallow. It is only living with the illusion that I can get up and fight every day that keeps me going.
I haven't read the Esquire article yet, Roger, but after reading this, will. For years I parted the waters of my life and went to see you at the World Affairs Conference in Boulder - Film Interruptus. I have so many great memories of just being in your presence - soaking up your love and enthusiasm for film. What a great teacher you were and continue to be. I would go home at night and have erotic dreams about you - turned on by your brilliance.
Last year, I went to see you when you came to Boulder and spoke with your electronic voice. Thank you for blessing your Boulder fans once more with your presence. What I always admired you for is your wit, transparency and honesty - your examined life. The best advice you ever gave me was to go out and "find new friends" in response to me whining about having go see "Wings of Desire" alone. May your wings of desire carry you on, dear man.
I'm so pleased with this journal. Such writing and remembering takes us all on journeys we would otherwise miss. Thank you for that.
I read the article. I wiped a tear over the telling of your grief for a lost friend, but I did not cry for you. I do not pity you. You aren't dead, you are living. Maybe not by the expectations you might have, or I might have, or others, but you're here, you're charging ahead. As you say, your most valuable asset, writing, has been unstoppered and flows with more clarity, abundance, and freshness than ever before. What's to pity? I waste such a good deal of my talent in idle chatter and spoken moments. I could be a great writer, but I prefer to chatter and so it flutters away, words on the wind, and profits me not at all. ~shrug~ I'm not here to profit anyway. But what you are sharing, thank you, it profits us all.
Will you take me to Paris some time? (I'll settle for any other destination too.)
In today's celebrity culture where we can't read a magazine or newspaper without being bombarded with stories about the wild but not particularly deep or interesting lives of the famous, the Esquire article about you was the perfect antidote. I found myself completely drawn into the story and enthralled by your touching and beautiful words. It is people like you we should be obsessed with, people who have something worthwhile to say, people who strive to make the world a better place because they were here.
I found it to be, from my selfish perspective of course, a look into the eyes of the beast. I have surgery coming up, not unlike your early rounds under the knife. I touched on the worst of my fears as a newly minted bit of throughput for the medical-industrial complex. The possibility of pain, disability and disfigurement loom large for me right now.
Despite all that, it's obvious that in spite of numerous medical setbacks and what could be generously termed sub-optimal outcomes, you are still you. And I suppose that may be the best one can hope for.
I caught a re-run of Gladiator the other night on HBO: "Death smiles upon us all. All you can do is smile back."
Keep smiling...
Roger: You are the true meaning of the word "MENSCH!"
Whether I agreed or disagreed with your reviews I always took great pleasure in reading your words and look forward to many many more!
Mr. Ebert, I've enjoyed your work for 30 years. In fact, you and Mr. Siskel were two of the important teachers I had earlier in my life. I came from a poor family in a small Texas town, and I had no idea that a world of such ideas even existed. It was luck that got me into a great school (Rice U.), and a gift that I was able to mature intellectually at a time when you and he were providing criticism.
As others have said, thank you.
Now, for your illness, I'm a bit more agnostic than you about the existence of God, it seems, but what I will say is that one of the reasons I think God doesn't exist is that death has to be so ugly. As you write, we're all dying in increments, but the end isn't terrible for but a privileged few. You keep heart, for the best judge of a person is the lives he's touched, not the shape of his face. And we all only have a little while.
"A full life leads to a peaceful death."
--Leonardo Da Vinci
The title of this entry is one of my favorite titles I've seen in some time. A far cry from Krapp's Last Tape in tone and meaning.
I have to echo what Pinto said: Having grown up watching you and Siskel (or is it Siskel and you?) on TV, whenever I read your writing, I hear your voice in my head. I thought the article was very well-written and a good compliment to your journal here.
Two things I was sad about in the article. You have to deal with Comcast (I hope you get better customer service than most of us), and the story about the old set. I didn't realize you had set it up to be saved at the Smithsonian. Cherished history destroyed is a crime.
I met Roger Ebert once in an elevator when I was just a teenager. He mentioned he had just been to Carson's and that they had 'the best ribs in town' He seemed like a really down to earth, genuine person, not to mention his obvious skills as a film critic and writer.
Ebert: Still pretty good.
I love your voice and what you express with it. You are one of the great writers of our time. Over the years I slowly realized that if Ebert liked a movie I would most likely like it too. Was it because of the gentle clear critical perception of a movie's strengths and weaknesses, the clear love of cinema done well, or the investigations of the effects of the writer's personal opinion? Or was it because all these elements are blended in a most extraordinarily artistic expression. The reviews often address the issues the film is taking on in a humane colloquial compassionate voice at an higher artistic level than the film under consideration. Cinema becomes a true conversation.
The recent blog posts expand this gift to new territories and I enjoy reading them thoroughly. Not many bloggers can evince such a deep understanding of human nature yet still allow the openness and mystery of what we do not know to have its space in the conversation.
My thanks for your contribution of passionate and spirited thought to our world and your artistic voice that fuses experience and talent in innovative and wonderful ways.
Interestingly enough, I absolutely hear your physical voice's pitch and tenor in my head when I read your writings. It is practically like you are speaking to me. Perhaps this because I became familiar with it through broadcast media in my youth and I think it is also because your writing is so personal and individualistic.
So again I give my thanks and I continue to read you with pleasure!
Patrik
Hi Roger. I've read your website for years and years and years now. This is the first time I'm commenting on your blog, which I began reading, ooh, say about a year ago. Not as faithfully as your reviews, but what can you do.
I just wanted to say that this blog almost made me tear up. Not about you, but of what it said about me. I have physical imperfections that, at times, depress me to a great extent. I harbor resentment towards a lot of people a lot of the time. I am consciously trying to not do this anymore, but it's tough.
After reading this article, it outright embarassed me. I waste so much time thinking negatively, be it about myself or about others. I'm 27, so I have a lot of growing to do, but best to get started now, right? You are a hero of mine, sir. Every time (EVERY TIME) I see a new movie, or an old movie I'd never seen before, I instantly race to the computer to pull up your review to see what you though of it. Seriously, it's borderline weird. I just did it the other night for Kenneth Branagh's 'Dead Again'. You were right!
Anyway, keep writing. I'll keep reading. Also, I loved your thoughts on Gene. I have a dear friend of whom I feel the exact same way. We've had outright bloody fistfights and then drank coffee and laughed together the next day. '..how meaningless the anger and how deep the love'. Perfect. I've also always liked what Robert Redford said about Paul Newman..."There are certain friendships that are sometimes too good and too strong to even talk about."
Thanks, and thanks again Roger!
Dear Roger,
Having read the Esquire piece last night, if I had to summarize it in a very few words, bottom line, it would be that you're still you. No matter what, you're still you, and that's a good thing.
You're my favorite movie critic ever. I may not always end up agreeing with you but always value your opinion, more than any other film critic. I've always liked that you are an honest critic and a superb writer without ever being anything like one of those mean, smart-alec type "critics" who seem to enjoy pooping all over any movie more than anything. It's like they'd hate if they actually liked something, you know? I dig that you are a true movie fan as well as being a critic. Basically, you rock.
Blessings to you and Chaz,
Barb
Roger, thanks for continuing. Thanks for continuing to write, to learn and to be fascinated with the world. Most of all, thanks for continuing to share that fascination with the rest of us. (I look forward to evenings on Twitter, which is -- understandably, now that I've read the Esquire piece -- your heaviest "tweeting" time. I eagerly await your latest finds -- articles, photos, videos and the like.) I had the pleasure of conducting a phoner with you and Gene for my newspaper in 1987. It was the weekend of the release of "Robocop," and I remember vividly the excitement that both of you had at what Verhoeven had been able to accomplish with what, in other hands, might have been just a tired special-effects action time-waster. In your online journal I continue to find that same kind of fascination with many different subjects. Thanks again for continuing to share it with us.
Hi Roger,
I appreciate your writing, especially the non-movie topics, very much. And a wonderful article by Chris Jones.
The Remembering Gene videos are on youtube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzsmNHrZVeY
Over the last 20 years of reading your reviews Roger, a surprising transition has taken place: I look more forward to reading your reviews than I do to seeing the actual movies.
When a new movie is coming out, the first thing I do is go to rogerbert.com and see if you have reviewed it. I am always a bit disappointed when you haven't.
I've puzzled on and off over the years why I'm such an addict of your reviews, why I enjoy them so much, and to a lesser extent, why my partner doesn't cuff me a good one when he wants to see a new movie and I say "No, I have to read Ebert's review first".
I think there are two reasons why I love your reviews so much. The first one is easy to communicate: you are an excellent writer. Your reviews are interesting, insightful, clever, balanced, reflective, and often downright hilarious. (I remember a few reviews from years back that I kept re-reading because they were such gleaming gems of writing brilliance, and frankly, I thought your writing was better than the screenplay)
The other reason is less easy to pin down and communicate, but I think it's something like this: your reviews often speak as much about the experience of being a moviegoer as they do about the content of the movie.
A movie is a talking monologue box of sorts, and we as moviegoers are a mute, captive audience being spoken to by the talking box. The box doesn't know we're there, doesn't care we're there and does not try to befriend us, or join in the experience with us in any way.
But your reviews do. Unlike the talking box that is indifferent to our laughing or crying, your voice is there along side us, like an enthusiastic movie-going friend. It gets excited when we get excited, it understands our disappointment when a good script is bungled, and it says "I told you so" when we need to hear that, too. In short, your voice is our human, champion spokesman of the movie going experience, and we love you for it.
Michael
PS Unlike you, I am not a writer, or at least not a good one. I hope you can make some sense of my blathering ;^)
This journal entry and the Esquire article brought a variety of thoughts to my mind, which I hope you'll take in the spirit they're intended and ignore or not as you see fit. :)
1. Chaz is positively amazing, isn't she? Does she ever get fan mail? I've half a mind to send her some.
2. I realize that this is irreverent and might perhaps be taken as cruel, but I feel like you'll know that that's not at all how I mean it; it was simply something that echoed in my head as I read the article: Roger Ebert is dead. Long live Roger Ebert.
3. "His new life is lived through Times New Roman and chicken scratch." -- This made me wonder, because I am, as ever, a nerd: do you actually prefer Times New Roman, as far as fonts go? I tend to use whatever the default is (unless I'm expecting to turn what I'm writing in for a class or send it off to another slush pile, in which case Times New Roman is still more or less de rigeur, as far as I'm aware), but I do get attached to some fonts over others from time to time.
4. Chris Jones is an exceptional writer. The way he captured everything from your walk in the park to that profound moment of anger... just, wow. I'll have to go read his other stuff now.
5. "If we think we have physical imperfections, obsessing about them is only destructive. Low self-esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you. That means they're living upstairs in the rent-free room." -- Oof. Damn. That hits me where I live right now. I'm gonna have it tattooed backwards on my forehead so it's staring back at me every time I go to the mirror to bemoan the fact that I don't look like... I don't even know who I think I'm supposed to look like. At any rate, it's clear that the energy I'm using to dwell on such things would be much better spent doing just about anything else. Say, perhaps, saluting the sun in the four cardinal directions. :)
6. The wedding photo story is priceless. I'm reminded, as I frequently am, of my favorite passage from Raymond Carver’s poem "Locking Yourself Out, Then Trying to Get Back In": "If this sounds / like the story of a life, okay."
7. You've given me so much to mentally chew on, here and elsewhere. Thank you.
You know, Roger, I never thought of you as "dying." I still don't think of you that way now. But I will say this: I do expect your legacy as a critic to live well beyond your body does.
I am a professional critic (jazz) and you are one of my two heroes in the discipline, one of the two critics I've learned the most from in terms of how to respond on paper to what we've experienced sensorily.
And, having conversed via these comment threads, it will be one of the great honors of my career to tell people that I once interacted with you.
I gots to know. Would you appreciate a movie more if you didn't have to take so many notes while watching it? Thanks for being a happy presence in the world.
You would of course have no reason to remember the morning that you and I sat next to each other in a Gregory Hall classroom at Prof. Pugh's DGS-121 class, on the first day of classes in the University of Illinois's 1960-61 academic year. Glancing at your open notebook, I noted that you were a townie--Washington Street in Urbana--and that you were a Phi Delta Theta, a more prestigious fraternity than Lambda Chi Alpha, which I had pledged. Beyond that I took no notice of you--until you rose to announce that you would use the class as a forum to campaign for John F. Kennedy and the Democratic Party. I, coming from the solidly Republican and Protestant bastion of Tuscola, was horrified--but also envious, at such a display of self-possessed confidence and savoir faire.
I have followed your career since. As a newspaper person and sometime movie reviewer myself--for the Gannett dailies in Rockford--I was interested in your success at our shared craft. As a movie-goer, I depended on your judgments. It was a hoot hearing of your work as a scenarist for Russ Meyer (whom I interviewed in Rockford as he toured to promote "Beneath the Valley of the Ultra Vixens"). And then there was a kind of connection born of that first DGS-121 class.
I write now with no more purpose than to tell you I am thinking of you, and to express the hope that my recounting of that moment half a century ago might cheer you a little. At this point in our lives the noblest things we can do for our contemporaries, friends and strangers alike, are to give encouragement and, in small ways, to help each other get through all this. I offer this little scribble in that spirit. I might add that you are an example for your contemporaries in the way you are pressing through this cruel turn your life has taken.
So, hang in there.
PS--Chris Jones's piece reminded me of something of yours I read once, also in Esquire: "Saturday Afternoon at Lee F***ing Marvin's".
Ebert: Mr. Pugh. We had such good teachers, didn't we? You hear today about teachers who only want to publish, etc, and teach grad students. I didn't have a single bad teacher at the U of I.
Roger
I'm an "Esquire" subscriber and turned to that article as soon as I got the issue, mostly because I loved watching you and Gene. We all owe a debt to you for bringing movie criticism to the wider public.
The article was enlightening and a tribute to the human spirit -- especially yours.
I have urged my wife to read it. I'll remind her again tonight, only this time I'll say, "Here -- you have to read this article about Roger F---ing Ebert!"
The article makes me want to do and be more than I am with the resources that are available to me.
So, apparently you have contributed to multiple phases of my life. The first was steering me toward knowledge of what makes a good movie - Siskel and Ebert and The Movies (1986–99). Second was your skewering of Ben Stein’s anti-evolution film Expelled.
Thank you for the inspiration.
Apologized to Rush Limbaugh? Roger, say it ain't so. He's not a nice man and it would be hard to understate his contributions to the world.
Anyway, it was nice reading more about your wife. You found a keeper with her, and she with you. Best wishes for many more years of wedded bliss together.
As a neurotically photophobic guy, I have always found the consolation "But it's a nice picture! It looks like you!" to be salt in the wound. So I am as ugly in real life as the photo? Thanks for that.
On the other hand, I have come to learn that none of us are capable of seeing ourselves objectively enough to see beyond our warts, and I find comfort in the hope that I am equally as wrong about my looks as others appear to be.
All of which is my way of saying: jaw or no, you're a handsome fella, and I am not just being nice. If there's a reason for you to be ashamed to show your face, it's your positive review of Cop and a Half.
I love you, MAN.
I'm so glad to hear that you're OK with that article -- it was a compelling read, but I also felt that maybe I was intruding on something a little too private, or, worse, that private things had been twisted from what what they really were into something more melodramatic.
The funny thing is that, while we did often watch your show when I was growing up, I was really more interested in your syndicated reviews, printed in my local paper, which I can credit almost directly for making me think and care about films. (I always tell people that you and I agree on 99% of movies, with the disagreeing 1% being Jennifer Lopez movies, which you like way more than me.) I check your website every Friday (and sometimes during the week), I browse through the blog when I have spare time, and in general your voice to me is a printed one, so the article's presentation of your life without a spoken voice was somehow startling. It made me realize that honestly, any of the writers I like could be physically voiceless, for all the difference it makes to me.
And then I thought, boy are you LUCKY. What a great twist of fate, that you work in the one career to which a physical voice is of no consequence. So I shook off the eulogy-feel of the interview, and was thankful that your hands and brain are in the same fantastic condition as always.
I'm 34-years-old, and I've had low self-esteem for as long as I can remember.
"Low self-esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you".
I'd never heard it put that way before. I'm going to marinade in that for awhile.
I'm so glad you're not *dying* dying. I can't afford to lose another therapist. :)
Thank you, Roger.
This blog reveals a marvelous world of readers and their fondness for you.
You are loved. I'll bet that rarely came through when your writing lived on only in the dead tree editions.
We hear you when we read you. Your voice does live in our memories of your TV program.
Which leads me to one item that intrigues me from the Esquire article.
How close are you to getting that custom-programmed software to allow the computer to speak in your voice? And if you are satisfied with the outcome, might you consider recording some podcasts for us to listen to here?
Some might say it could spoil a perfectly good virtual relationship developed here in simple Arial font .
But the curious among us might well love to "hear" from you again.
I have one thing to say about Rogert Ebert's face: beautiful. It makes me tremble to look at it. It is beautiful because it is the face of life. Sometimes when things have gone so wrong for us, we realize that while what we are left with is far different than what we used to have, it is far better than what we could have ended up with. It is enough and it is beautiful. He is right, we are all dying by increments. Shut up and show me your beautiful face, Roger Ebert. I miss you on tv, my movie-loving friend.
Haven't finished the article yet. Started reading online this morning and had to leave. Picked up a copy of the magazine this afternoon at the grocery store after attending a rally downtown in the Capitol rotunda.
I love hanging out with Mr.Lincoln and all in the rotunda, even Jeff Davis - another born Kentuckian (as I always say we have a lot of history to own up to). The rally was for a DUI bill requiring interlock devices for drivers after a first DUI conviction. We would be the thirteenth state to have it. My sole political talent seems to be showing up, but sometimes that is what is needed.
Can't fit another magazine into the pile regularly right now, but Esquire ranks right up there as a treat. This issue will be savored. Thank you and Chaz for agreeing to it.
Roger, as always thank you. Your post reminded me of something my late mother said years before she died, to the effect that what she dreaded most was the possibility of Alzheimer's, losing her mental abilities. I think she was resigned to physical decline. But she wanted to be herself to the end.
So when I read your entries here, you come across as alive and vibrant; brimming with vitality. That may no longer be true for you physically. But it's still you here, and the most important part of you, that makes you Roger Ebert, an international treasure. And your fans and readers are so lucky for the experience.
Last words? I only hope these are the start of your last millions of words.
Dying? You better not die, ever. You and Peter Gent are the only two writers I've ever read who seem to have the ability astound and reassure me at the same time. Don't even think about it, pal.
Mr. Ebert,
You must know how much I enjoy your guidance when choosing what films to avoid and what films to watch. I've seen lots of films I never would have heard of because you mentioned them as examples in your reviews. I just love everything you write about films, art, and life.
And, by the way, I don't pity you. Pity is for the weak, the ignorant, and you're neither of those things.
The article is excellently written and truly is very moving. I'm glad you've mentioned it in your blog - otherwise I would've missed it!
What I found amusing was just how much we already know about you. I've been following your blog long enough to have known most of these things already! And I've enjoyed every moment of it... I must say however, your writing reflects such a strong and vivacious attitude, and such clear thoughts and attitudes - it never occured to me you would 'shuffle' down a hallway! Funny - I'm sure all of your followers have an image of you in their heads (we all know you so well by now). Yes, my image includes your new 'happy face'. But 'shuffle', I'm clearly having trouble with. (Regardless of how slowly you may move, or how deliberate each step.)
I'd like to thank you for your honesty, and your forethought in allowing the article to be written. It's always good to have another's perspective of all things. Even when it comes to others we care about.
I'm sure many others feel as I do - like we KNOW you. And that you've come to be a part of our 'cyber' lives - and far more than that. Your kindness of spirit, your intelligence, and perserverance. It all means so much to me - to us.
Before I close - I'd like to thank you for a few more things. I finally decided to vacation out of the country last year and went to Ireland and England. London, Liverpool, Dublin, and Doolin! It was wonderful! And, I read 'The Road' recently. It ripped my heart out! You once suggested my father read 'All The Pretty Horses'. He never did read it - but I will! Thank you for opening your heart to us all! And thank you also for opening ours. You are loved and thought of well!
KarenJ
Mr. Ebert, I was a faithful "Siskel and Ebert" viewer every week when I was little. It wasn't just because I wanted to hear about the new movies come out, but also because I enjoyed the banter between you and the late Mr. Siskel. The Esquire article moved me to tears, and I just wanted to thank you for being so honest and forthcoming, warts and all, about what you've been through. Even now when I read your reviews online, I still picture you as in the opening credits of the show, typing away on an old typewriter. The photograph startled me at first, but it was beautifully done, eloquent and dignified. I wish you and your wife all the best.
i am weeping at work as i type this. yes, i'll admit it: the picture drew me in, very much like a tractor beam. it's the eyes: changed but triumphant. the article has brute force, matched evenly by your eloquent response to it. you are a true survivor roger, your love of life and cinema not diminshed by diagnoses and hospitals and surgeries and all attendant stress and upheaval but instead transformed into a something glorious: a full-throated roar, a celebratory reminder of the momentary beauty of being alive. thank you for that.
I'm glad you liked the Esquire piece. It was inspirational. What came through more than your disabilities were the grace and imagination with which you've come to terms with them. So much of life is about accepting reality without bitterness. You're an astonishing example of the power of acceptance.
I did presume that the news of your death had been greatly exaggerated. Nothing delights me more than to be proved wrong in this case.
Bad Math Skills dept. (can't blame the U of I for that..)
I came to the Sun-Times in the fall of 1972, just before the election in which Nixon crushed McGovern (not his spirit, though!) That means I have known you for nearly four decades, which is what I first wrote, then changed, then the editor-in-my-head said, whoa, wait a minute...I left Chicago, on a crazy, cross-country trip via Seattle to San Francisco (accompanied by Scott Jacobs, on the road), in late 1973, so that means I have not seen you in person for 37 years...so, if you feel like it, you can copy edit my post for accuracy's sake.
Best, and DO hope to see you again one of these days.
Nancy
Ebert: Scott Jacobs. Now there's a dude with enough stories about me to last through a trip to Seattle.
He made the single truly great Royko video.
Roger,
You look kinder and gentler than you did in your younger years. Hope you have many more quality years.
Susan
Ebert: Hi Susan. I think you might agree that those qualities were not the first to come to mind when I was the raging bull of The Daily Illini.
I'm very picky about what I set as my default tabs in Firefox when I browse the web. I want to have easy access to the content that is important to me on a daily basis. Several months ago, I set your blog as one of my tabs, and have been consistently entertained and informed by your blog, and by the people who comment on it.
I'm also a longtime Esquire reader, and when I opened to your photo, quite unexpectedly, I was a little shocked, and then immediately felt guilty for feeling shocked! And then I felt guilty for feeling guilty!
You seem to have such a rich life despite your health issues, and your fans and followers hear your voice as clearly as ever when you write to us. In fact, I'd suggest we know your voice better now than we did in the Siskel and Ebert days.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
You are an amazing man, and Chaz is one amazing woman. Reading Chris Jones' article on Esquire's site today moved me to tears. Not because I am sad for you, but because of how inspiring you both are.
No offense to Gene, but your reviews were the ones I followed most, and now I find myself clinging to your writing (including your tweets).
Thank you, and a big hug to the lovely Chaz.
Chuck
This is a minor editing of what I posted yesterday on Facebook after reading the article, which was referred to me by my daughter. I think I have the dates right, but could be senility. :-)
Why is this [the article] important to me? First, we're a "cancer family". Second, Roger has been important to me since day one, when he first wrote for the Sun Times in 67. At that time we were both students at University of Chicago, though I never met him there or elsewhere. From the start he was a superb writer and reviewer, and I looked forward to every column.
Then in April 68 I moved to Ohio for a job and couldn't read his pieces. My younger brother, Irv, clipped the articles and mailed them to me regularly. For my birthday in 69 he made a "book" of them, with a couple dozen of his reviews pasted to colored construction paper. It was a fantastic and very thoughtful gift, made with love. I wish I still had it.
Of course I saw him a great many times on TV later in our lives, and knew he had cancer, but not how far it had progressed. Seeing this now in the context of the last few years is particularly difficult. In 2006 Irv died of cancer. (previously my father and a sister had died of cancer, 1960 and 1996, respectively). And last week my brother in law, Phil Brown, the widower of my sister who died in 96, also died of cancer. Living 2000 miles away, I was unable to go to his memorial yesterday, or the burial and later celebration of his life today, Ash Wednesday.
But this somehow fits, as simultaneously sad and celebratory as this article is, and the timing is perfect. If/when I get cancer, or something else, I hope that I have his strength and love, as my sister, brother, and brother in law did.
God Bless Roger and them all, and may they all rest in peace.
It seems to me that I only seem to comment on your personal blogs, and I must always come across as desperately fangirl--but I am desperately fangirl when it comes to you, and we must all come to terms with things like that about ourselves, as you have shown us anew.
I was linked to the article through the Onion AV Club; there are several people there who may well become great critics but aren't yet--though there's a good feature about analyzing scenes from various movies, where your name is invoked--and they made sure we knew about this article. I made sure various of my friends did, too, and I read bits aloud to my boyfriend. Mostly your own words, because it is your words that strike me.
A friend is in physical therapy twice a week, and there's an older couple who come in as well. Today, I ended up talking to the husband while we waited for the people we were there with--I drive my friend, who broke her hand. One of the things he likes about me is that, when he talks about Dick Tracy serials and dish night at the movies, I know what he's talking about. I can speak intelligently about movies made fifty years and more before I was born, I know who Bernie Schwartz is, I am willing to take his suggestions about movies starring people who died before I was born and which I should watch. That, in part, came from my mother, and it came from you as well. When the article mentioned Great Movies III, I squealed in delight, because that would mean even more movies to read about and probably even love. Then, I got surly because an Amazon search didn't provide it.
We are, as you say, all dying by increments. I didn't really grow to love Gene, but I have grown to love you, inasmuch as one can love someone from an indirect perspective. You and Gregory Peck. However many increments you and I have left to share together, I will treasure them to the end of my days.
Roger
I'm an "Esquire" subscriber and turned to that article as soon as I got the issue, mostly because I loved watching you and Gene. We all owe a debt to you for bringing movie criticism to the wider public.
The article was enlightening and a tribute to the human spirit -- especially yours.
I have urged my wife to read it. I'll remind her again tonight, only this time I'll say, "Here -- you have to read this article about Roger F---ing Ebert!"
"Well, we're all dying in increments."
Ha. I don't just read your work to read about movies, I read it for perspective. Roger, you're living a full life. Keep on trucking.
Dear Roger --
The entire article strikes an admirably balanced tone, the glimpse of your relationship with Chaz is a rare and moving privilege (and as far from the typical voyeuristic celebrity journalism as it is possible to be), and Chris Jones has a gift for the well-turned phrase. I think my favorite line is "Anger isn't as easy for him as it used to be. Now his anger rarely lasts long enough for him to write it down." Imagine how much more civil our lives would be -- how purely better they'd be -- if we could only express anger through writing? Think how often our anger would look absurd once we set it down on the page and viewed it from even the slightest distance of space and time. The Clash once sang, "Let fury have the hour / Anger can be power," and while that contains an element of truth, the power it offers is hard to wield constructively.
Of course, as Jones (Chris, not Mick) makes clear, you can still get angry when given sufficient cause: the Mouse should just alter its corporate symbol to a rat and abandon all pretense. This journal is the wisest, most circumspect place (and it does feel like a place, even though it's a virtual one) I've found on the web, but I still enjoy Angry Ebert on those rare occasions he makes an appearance.
Something else --
I was not shocked by your photo. I'd already seen pictures of you since the surgeries. But this time I decided to do something that would be rude in real life. I stared. It was as if I were trying to bring two images seen by different eyes into focus. To make an analogy I hope you appreciate, it was like watching a 3-D film without the special glasses. One image was the one before me. The other was an aggregate image of you from my memories that go back to "Sneak Previews" on PBS. Gradually they came together. Yes, those are the same eyes. Yes, the bottom lip droops now, but it's the same lip, the same basic shape and proportion. The one sticking point was the hair -- which made me appreciate your comment that its being neatly combed was the one part of the photo that bothered you. However, I overcame that, and after a few moments all the distinctions between your new appearance and your old appearance had, if not vanished, become irrelevant. Not a pretty sight, you say? How can that be, when that is the face of someone who has taught me so much and given me such pleasure for three decades?
Where we draw the boundaries of the self is a choice we make. Who is -- what is -- Roger Ebert? It's not the body, clearly. We can draw the boundary at the brain, or to be more metaphysical, the mind. We all accept that losing an arm or a leg doesn't change the essential self. The voice and the ability to eat and drink? Okay, that's more intimate, but yours is hardly as extreme a case as we saw in My Left Foot or The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. People talk about whether someone is still "in there," as if the self is a spot of consciousness carried around inside a vehicle of disturbing fragility, a prison, or worse:
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is
But rather than Yeats, I'll take my cue from Whitman, who inverts that common conception. The self of which he sang does not stop at the mind or even at the body, greets God as a "loving bedfellow," says to the earth, "Smile, for your lover comes!" and dangles planets on his tongue like ripe cherries: "With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds." The poem that became "Song of Myself" (though the untitled 1855 version is far superior to the later revisions) is about everyone and everything because Whitman knew that the boundaries between ourselves, our fellow man, and the universe are all just convenient, practical fictions.
Who, what, and how is Roger Ebert? He is his words, this website, the community that has sprung up out of him like Pallas from Zeus's forehead. Look around -- he is large and contains multitudes. He is good health to us, fibre and filter for our blood. If we miss him one place (this site), we can search for him in another (the Great Movies essays).
Full disclosure: I loathed Whitman when I was twenty -- "the scent of these armpits is aroma finer than prayer"? get away from me, you disgusting lout! -- began to have some grudging respect for him at twenty-five, appreciated him at thirty, wrote about him at thirty-five, and if I am still reading poetry on my death-bed, my guess is that it will be Whitman who takes my hand as I finally do merge with the universe.
One more thing, Roger. I was pleased to read in your journal some time ago that other than the obvious your health is good, and that you have every reason to look forward to many more years of life. I say this in utter selfishness: live a long time. The elegies can wait.
Roger,
To be honest, seeing the Esquire photo was more a relief than anything. I was beginning to imagine that your scarves were hiding some kind of David Cronenberg grotesquerie. I am a long-time admirer, and I enjoyed seeing your face again, unobstructed. Thanks for sharing so much of yourself, and keep up the good work-
Hello,
I wanted to tell you I really enjoyed the Esquire interview....I commmented earlier on your blog, but somehow I just keep going back to read the interview again. A major part of the interview stuck out for me.
"I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That... See More is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out." - Roger Ebert
I posted this on my Facebook as well as a link to the interview in Esquire and I commented on it. This is what I said : Wow. This, my friends, is the meaning of life.
Roger,
I just want to say Wow!!! Thank you very powerful words....Good Luck to you and your wife.
Tina English
Mr. Ebert:
While certainly I know your work and have followed it in the past, the Esquire story had a profound affect on my perception of you, the man. Your bluntness in dealing with life and death and the love you and your wife share were things the world would have never known. A hell of a story. I look forward to following your work -- now, even more closely -- for years to come.
Thanks,
Jeremy
Roger, the Esquire article was very well done. Your response is spot on. It's so nice to hear that you remember Gene Siskel the way you do. You guys were the best! Thanks for your wonderful reviews. You are one very gutsy guy, indeed. I admire your zeal for living and believe your writing, along with the love of your wonderful wife, sustains you. Keep going! Best always.
You know, in some strange way, the picture Esquire ran was reassuring, rather than ominous or distressing. I had wondered, I must admit, if the tales of your happiness and renewed romance with writing were a cover for a very sad existence. Maybe I'm gullible (hell, I am gullible), but after reading Jones' piece, I am now entirely convinced that the frank joy you ooze in your journal entries is not some put-on-a-happy-face/ready-for-my-close-up-mr-demille/dont-worry-about-me put-on, but rather evidence of something closer to a hard to grasp (at least for a quote-unquote "healthy" person) grace. Not a religious grace, necessarily, but something sprouting from your soul - from within, not from without. Not sure if that still counts as grace, but you get the idea.
I must admit, prior to your illness, I had sort of drifted from your column. It seemed like there was a bitterness creeping in, a willful kind of disdain, as if you had about had it with grunting behind that critical boulder and were ready to let it roll down and away forever. (Truth be told, your LOVELY BONES review was a little bit more like the early 2000's Roger Ebert that I had started to feel less communion with - your BONES review seemed a little disingenuous, as if you were purposely not "getting it" so as to slam a movie that made you feel creepy...and your harsh blaming of Peter Jackson seemed a little nasty, considering you've liked his other films... but I digress, as that was the ONLY review of yours I've read in the last few years that rankled me...)
BUT, as is clearly implied in the above (not the bit about LOVELY BONES, above that), something seemed to happen around the time of your return to writing. It's cliched, it's Hallmark movie-of-the-week, but that doesn't mean its any less true: You did in fact seem to be reborn a virgin soul to the movies with virgin eyes, and your love/lust spouted out, unstoppable. It hardly mattered anymore if I agreed with you on a particular movie or not... what mattered was that I agreed with your righteous attitude towards life and art and humanity. (In fact, I think you should publish all your reviews from THE QUEEN on as some kind of "here's what I really mean" tome)
And so I wonder, maybe you have become a mystic! I know that's silly, but if you mind has swollen up and filled in all the places that the alien cancer stole (and let's face it, you already had a corker of a mind), then perhaps you have aquired a kind of a heightened sensitivity. Jones rightly states that you started giving out more "stars" in your film reviews, and while some might dismiss your recent work as a "Hey, I'm alive, everything is fabulous!" victory lap, it felt to me more like a movie lover practicing his now-tantric movie love. I believe you see the movies (and everything else you write about) more clearly now, not less. I don't think you put on rose-colored glasses after the illness, but rather than the old filter was stripped away. Not sure what that filter was, whether it was ego, critical defiance, or your innate smarty-pants-ness... but all I can say about your recent (and forthcoming) work is "Preach, Roger, preach!"
It sounds ridiculous to say, and I would hardly wish to go through the travails that you have of late, but I'd like to find a way into that grace you've discovered...
It's 2010, and you certainly seem to have no interest in "teaching the stars not to dance" - in fact, whatever the opposite of that is, you're ddoing it. So, in essence, here's my question: How does it feel to finally be the Star Child?
Just had to chime in with those who thought the Esquire article was great--and not sad. Except perhaps in the way that reality is sad because things change and you can't go back. Doesn't make the way things are now unbearably tragic.
Also, though I feel like it might seem shallow to assure you it, I didn't wince at the photo. You look very different, which must be unsettling for you, but with all the air-brushed faces we see all the time on magazines I almost find it refreshing to be reminded that people look all different ways for different reasons while still looking completely human.
Still more of your best, Roger.
In fact, if ol' Sam Fuller was still around to have ready all of this he might have noted that you have "Some Balls".
He can't, so I will.
Mr. Ebert,
Thank you. I'm not sure how many times a man can be told he is an inspiration before it becomes just another echo in the eardrums; but truly you are. Not only have you given me a new perspective on film, you have given me a new perspective on what it is to be a meaningful human being. You are a powerful voice of clarity and compassion; a warming ray of light in an otherwise cloudy and cold world.
Your flaw's, are my flaw's, are our flaw's. And in each there is so much is to learn.
Roger,
This article was very touching to me. You will never stop amazing me. I just want you to know that you are always in my prayers. Hope to see you soon....
Ebert: Hi, Jay! Yes, in March. I hear talk of sunshine.
Oh, Roger.
I love your words and that you have the guts to say them. That you say them so eloquently--well, you speak directly to my heart and mind.
As a child of the technological generation, "textual intercourse" is of major importance to me, and it's something at which you are very gifted.
Thank you for sharing everything. I don't know you, but I love you dearly.
I thought the Esquire profile was a beautiful piece of writing. Its honesty and lack of sentimentality made it that much more moving . As someone who's had their fair share of health problems and surgery this past year, I can only marvel at your strength and mental fortitude. I have an inkling of what you've been through and your attitude and bravery is truly inspiring. Bravo Roger.
Ebert: "What I hated most [about the Esquire photo] was that my hair was so neatly combed."
Not to sound presumptuous (or, godforbid, mean), but when I read that line I almost laughed out loud--because, when I first saw the picture, the second thing I noticed (after the cool-under-fire courage it took to surrender yourself to a mega-sized, crystal-clear, unblinking portrait) was that perfectly styled head of hair. How does Chaz resist running her fingers through that soft and sweeping suavity?
Roger,
we have watched you, listened to you, read your analyses, your books. All that due to your brain, your sense of humor, your clear analysis, your insights. We never watched you for your beauty. Thanks for continuing to share the important stuff with us.
Nicki
I was born in 1970, and consider myself a connoisseur of bad and not so bad North American film. I leave the really great stuff to the Academy... I have never seen Titanic, nor the English Patient. But I have seen both versions of Evil Dead, Dark Star, Soylent Green, the original Crazies, and as previous commenters on your blog have told you, Repo the Genetic Opera is well worth the time. My favorite director is Cronenberg, and my favorite movies are Star Wars and Dawn of the Dead (the originals). Like many others, you and Gene were a fixture in my living room as I was growing up. We watched religiously, not caring about your opinion, but hoping to get a glimpse of some cool upcoming movie. There being no internet in those days. Anyway, most movie critics make sick when I read their mindless drivel. When I new movie comes out I always go straight to your blog for the scoop. I don't always agree with you, but at least you have respect for your audience. My only quibble is that you missed the mark on GI Joe, the balance of old and new was perfect. I felt like it was 1982 again. At the point when Snake eyes dropped out of a jet on a bungee cord in the thick of battle I was completely sold. I feel much better getting that off my chest, thanks.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
“The Little Mermaid” was my first theatrical experience, though I cannot say I saw it, because my mother thought she would honor me with my own seat, and at two, what I saw was entirely and nothing but the scalp of the seat in the row before me. It was later remembered for me that I loved the sound of the picture, though, and the limpid shapes that played on the obstructing upholstery were secondary for the child I was to the sensation I had of hearing the parades that lay just beyond.
The images came later, on videocassette, in the familiarity of our first house, the one my parents sold in anticipation of the birth of my sister. The raucousness was lost in that transfer of venue from theater to living room, and stunning as the colors were, the image shrank the sound, managed it, contained it.
Absence breeds invention. There is a moment in Mr. Jones’ Esquire piece that finds you with your wife and a friend in a restaurant. Your friend has apologized for speaking of the combination of flavors in that dinner--scallops, cream, fish, wine--“that combine to make a kind of delicate smoke.” This, I think, is very much the essence of successful art, the parts wholes themselves, and yet bound, like the flavors of meals to their harvestings and breweries, to their actors, their budgets, the text. When we are blessed with a rare perfection of elements, what results skews sublime, and as though from some stranger, lovelier hand, from a palm of delicate and common elements, smoke results.
You wrote a note to this friend, insisting that such talk was more gift than insult. “You’re eating *for* me,” it read. For more than forty years, yours have been the seeing eyes: not simply my father’s, on any of the countless nights he spent reading your 1988 Movie Yearbook, or mine, when I was given your Glossary on my graduation from Sixth Grade, but the eyes of the whole and growing audience throughout the theaters of the world. You have seen the themes and the gestures and the shafts of dancing light, unafraid of the harried or languid, the unfamiliar in cinema, nor the settled domestic comforts of our best filmmakers, at their leisure in genres rubbed worn from love and practice.
My favorite of your reviews belongs to Kurosawa’s “Ran,” made when the filmmaker was 75 years old, and dependent, as your review notes, upon storyboards of oil and watercolor. What amazes about “Ran” is the fluidity of emotion and narrative, twined like the paints of Kurosawa’s practice-canvas, and as autobiographical for the filmmaker as memoir. The story is taken of course from Shakespeare’s “King Lear,” and watches with a mixture of judgment, pity, and regret for the unlived life of an ailing king languishing in the halls of his former kingdom.
Hidetora, the king, is equal parts Lear and Kurosawa, flitting from despair to bravado and back, accompanied only by his Fool. Your years of seeing have placed you in the court of the kingdom, ever the Fool, wiser and of clearer eyes than any royalty, and yours is the most indispensable of elements in the order, an honesty and joy inseparable, in a glad marriage that bears, always and only, smoke.
Your review of “Ran” closes with a praise of Kurosawa, who, as Hidetora demonstrates early in the film, is a proud model of unity and strength: that an arrow, though deadly, can easily be broken when isolated, but three arrows unified cannot. Of Kurosawa you wrote, “the image I have of him, at 75, is of three arrows bundled together.” The image I have of you, Roger, I am proud if humbled to say, is entirely identical.
Thank you, Roger, for doing this interview. I thought it was well done and it reminded me of what a great writer and human being you are. I will be reading you more again now. Whenever I look for reviews of a movie, on mrqe.com or elsewhere, I always look first to see if you have reviewed it. When a friend asked me one time why I always watched Siskel & Ebert so regularly, I told him I felt like between the two interpretations I could know whether I would like a movie and why. I said that you, Roger, looked at movies the way a reviewer should, not just to analyze and critique it, but to also get into the intent of the director, writer, and cast, the humanity of it. Because I have always felt that you love movies, love art, and love human beings. So thank you. I look forward to reading you more often again. And I'm inspired by the love story of Chaz and Roger. Kudos.
February 18, 2010
Dear Roger Ebert,
You are, without reservation, the most important film reviewer I’ve had in my life. Sure, there was Pauline Kael and Judith Crist and others (most notably, Gene Siskel), but I will always remember you and your writing the most. I have always been poor, so I was unable to visit the movie theater much as a child. I lived in a rural area, and my parents did not share my love for film. The local PBS channel was the first place I saw Knife in the Water and The Seven Samurai and other terrific classic films. And I first saw you with the great Gene Siskel when I was still in high school in the 70s. I watched your PBS show from the beginning days, always especially relishing the “Dog of the Week.”
You are probably the one person I most admire as a writer. You do your job, and you do it well. And you rarely get the kudos you deserve. I’ve read most of your reviews, and I must say, when you are ON, you are perfect.
I am a lowly copywriter who lives in Binghamton, NY. I’ve been earning my living as a writer for several years now. I’ve disagreed with your assessments of many films (including, and, in my humble opinion, probably most egregiously, Blue Velvet). I’ve disliked very little of your writing, with the exception of Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.
I don’t know why, but one of my most recent memories of your writing is of your review of The DaVinci Code. You said that Dan Brown’s book was, in your precise phrasing, “inelegantly written.” That is precisely the phrase that describes the book, though I doubt I could ever explain it like you did in as few words as you provided.
But beyond all that, when the old “push comes to shove,” I’ve always admired the way you string words together to make the emotional impact, and give the important information, you want and need to make.
I will always respect your opinion about films. You are probably the only reviewer who will tell me to see or skip a movie, and I will—even though I also take exception to your review of the re-edited version of The Brown Bunny. It still sucks. But to be honest with you, I will always remember you and your terrific writing. I just wanted you to know that I will read you for as long as you put pen to paper, or fingers to a keyboard. I will read you. And I hope to read you for many years to come.
I believe that compliment is the best thing that an honest and true writer can hope for.
Your unabashed fan,
Terry D. Trask
You are my hero. You are the one who got me interested in Journalism. Thank you for everything you have done, and most of all, your bravery.
Even without speech, you're still talking, Roger. And in ways you don't even know. Last month our son sent Steve and me something you had written about swilling beer and other refreshments at The Capitol and wanted to know if this was the place Dad always was talking about.
There are a host of us who remember the great days at Illinois, coffee in the union and nights at The Capitol, and that guy who wrote for the Daily Illini and then suddenly for the Sun Times which all Democrats read religiously.
We love you and hope to read your work for years and years. You still speak to and for us.
Regardless of my connections real or virtual connections with you, I certainly liked the piece, and your walks around the pond really resonated with me (especially when Chaz was encouraging you). I suppose that many of us would rather live with any struggle while being truly loved, than to die in comfort, alone.
And, I especially liked the piece because it moved way beyond the plastic caricatures that so many people are or feel they have to be. I'm saying that the piece was down to earth. I wish we as a nation can move into a sort of post-plastic America.
I hope all is well.
Omer M
I don't want this to sound corny or sentimental but you are my hero and have been since 12. I'm going to teach film history because of you. I read your articles and always enjoy your perspective even if I disagree. Keep up all the amazing writing, The best writer in any form...Roger Ebert
Roger... Just wanted to say that overall I loved the Esquire article... I had to skip over the gory details of your surgeries (what was the point of that btw?) and I winced at the "Ebert's dying in increments" line... my immediate thought was the same as yours...
"We're ALL dying in increments."
But I was really glad I saw and read the article because I really did not know you are continuing to write, have your own blog, are continuing to review movies and are leading a wonderfully strong and active life... much more active, at least in the literary sense, than many people who have not endured numerous surgeries and had cancer.
So as I say... I agree with your observations on the article and am so glad I read it...
And you have a new reader of your blog... your writings are lovely. Keep up the good work, for us please.
Roger, I've joyously read your reviews, your inquiries and your musings for a long while now and I will continue to do so in honor and celebration of your insight, wit, and candor.
No matter what ails you you still have a voice that manifests itself within the thoughts you convey and the people you endear.
I just wanted you to know that I grew up with watching you and then later reading your Friday reviews. You have been a big part of my last 30 years of movies and a good story (not always the same thing). I've looked forward to Friday's for many years; the end of the work week, usually payday and your reviews. For many years, you were the only reason that I ever bought a newspaper. Now, I look forward to your online reviews and blogs as well. For the last fifteen years I too have a program and I guessed that you wrote like you did too. I have tried very hard to live my life with a type of open and sometimes brutal honesty that is not easy but I feel necessary to live well. I experience some of that type of openness from you as well and I think that it has endeared you to many people over the years. I hope that you live a very long time and whenever you do leave us, just so you know, I am taking that day off in your honor.
Regards,
Brian
I was very touched by the Esquire article. Especially your quote about bringing happiness to others. I think part of that is also expressing gratitude to those who have brought you happiness, whether they know it or not. I had an opportunity to meet the author of stories that I enjoyed as a child once at a convention. I remember blurting out some statement of thanks but in my excitement I didn't notice that he was human and was irritated and tired from several days at the convention. I hope that this medium will better allow me to express my gratitude to you in the spirit in which it is intended.
I wish to simply thank you. I have been reading this site for several years now and your reviews have made a great contribution to my enjoyment of the medium. If I enjoy a movie one of the first things that I do is to read your review to find themes or nuances that I might not have considered. I don't always agree with your assessments but I always respect your opinions. I feel that there is a refreshing optimism in your writing. A film may not score well, but it's successes are always well and concisely documented. In a sense your reviews allowed me to have a conversation about the films I have enjoyed, and even those that I have not. The nature of the conversation is somewhat one-sided, but has the depth of thousands of reviews.
Again thank you. If I were a religious man, I would say 'God Bless'.
Dear Roger,
Your new voice is stronger, more powerful, heard by more people and resonates with an emotional truth that few have found the way to express. You have found that way.
As a big fan of yours, Roger, all I can say is...
You're a braver man than I'll ever be.
Your courage and refusal to abdicate your happiness shames us all.
I noticed in the article that you got very upset when you found out your video tribute to Gene Siskel had been taken down. In case you haven't seen in already, I managed to find it again in 3 parts on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0tRNy9rELg (Part 1)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtO4_--TRgo&feature=related (Part 2)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKR9pQmMXv0&feature=related (Part 3)
(re-sending this, I have a feeling it didn't make it to your inbox on first attempt...)
You know, in some strange way, the picture Esquire ran was reassuring, rather than ominous or distressing. I had wondered, I must admit, if the tales of your happiness and renewed romance with writing were a cover for a very sad existence. Maybe I'm gullible (hell, I am gullible), but after reading Jones' piece, I am now entirely convinced that the frank joy you ooze in your journal entries is not some put-on-a-happy-face/ready-for-my-close-up-mr-demille/dont-worry-about-me put-on, but rather evidence of something closer to a hard to grasp (at least for a quote-unquote "healthy" person) grace. Not a religious grace, necessarily, but something sprouting from your soul - from within, not from without. Not sure if that still counts as grace, but you get the idea.
I must admit, prior to your illness, I had sort of drifted from your column. It seemed like there was a bitterness creeping in, a willful kind of disdain, as if you had about had it with grunting behind that critical boulder and were ready to let it roll down and away forever. (Truth be told, your LOVELY BONES review was a little bit more like the early 2000's Roger Ebert that I had started to feel less communion with - your BONES review seemed a little disingenuous, as if you were purposely not "getting it" so as to slam a movie that made you feel creepy...and your harsh blaming of Peter Jackson seemed a little nasty, considering you've liked his other films... but I digress, as that was the ONLY review of yours I've read in the last few years that rankled me...)
BUT, as is clearly implied in the above (not the bit about LOVELY BONES, above that), something seemed to happen around the time of your return to writing. It's cliched, it's Hallmark movie-of-the-week, but that doesn't mean its any less true: You did in fact seem to be reborn a virgin soul to the movies with virgin eyes, and your love/lust spouted out, unstoppable. It hardly mattered anymore if I agreed with you on a particular movie or not... what mattered was that I agreed with your righteous attitude towards life and art and humanity. (In fact, I think you should publish all your reviews from THE QUEEN on as some kind of "here's what I really mean" tome)
And so I wonder, maybe you have become a mystic! I know that's silly, but if you mind has swollen up and filled in all the places that the alien cancer stole (and let's face it, you already had a corker of a mind), then perhaps you have aquired a kind of a heightened sensitivity. Jones rightly states that you started giving out more "stars" in your film reviews, and while some might dismiss your recent work as a "Hey, I'm alive, everything is fabulous!" victory lap, it felt to me more like a movie lover practicing his now-tantric movie love. I believe you see the movies (and everything else you write about) more clearly now, not less. I don't think you put on rose-colored glasses after the illness, but rather than the old filter was stripped away. Not sure what that filter was, whether it was ego, critical defiance, or your innate smarty-pants-ness... but all I can say about your recent (and forthcoming) work is "Preach, Roger, preach!"
It sounds ridiculous to say, and I would hardly wish to go through the travails that you have of late, but I'd like to find a way into that grace you've discovered...
It's 2010, and you certainly seem to have no interest in "teaching the stars not to dance" - in fact, whatever the opposite of that is, you're ddoing it. So, in essence, here's my question: How does it feel to finally be the Star Child?
Roger Ebert, you are an awesome man. Keep on writing and doing what you do. Movie reviews on tv haven't been the same since you stopped doing them. We miss you!
Thank you for your passion, candor and gut level honesty. One day at a time you continue to live the hand that Life (or the Divine) has handed you. I continue to learn and grow through your written words. Love your style and strength, have been following you for most of my 56 years, true Chitown girl that I am you have shaped my worldview. Continued blessings to you and Chaz.
After reading the Esquire article, I was surprised by how many reportedly found it sad - as all I could see were Roger's blessings.
It's a glass more than half full. For he's got Chaz, and clearly the Gods smiled upon him the day they met. He found his soul mate - and the one person willing to follow him "once more into the breach." :)
And that being the case, why I've no interest in "patting him gently on the shoulder" while saying nice things about him (haven't forgotten Harold & Maude) as though he's at death's door and the wake just moments away; for it's not. And even if it were - where's the fun in that?!
Zzzzz. :)
Besides, what I really want to know is this:
Is that a toy car on your desk? Did you buy a new toy?!
Grin.
Well, that article was the most fascinating thing I've read all month. It gave me that feeling of indecency and nosiness, so I'm glad you're largely pleased with the piece. I'm glad they're replacing the voice of the software you use now with your own voice-- if I miss it a little, the people you're close with must miss it greatly.
At first glance, I was taken aback by the photo - but after getting past the evidence of your medical odyssey, the more memorable part of the picture is the level gaze, poised as always to skewer some hapless director, wield a gimlet of analysis, sink a barbed point into a lumbering dinosaur of a film. And other suchlike edged metaphors.
You've been through hell and back, no doubt - but I discard the tear-stained, inspired, heart-touched rhetoric. You don't cast yourself as a victim, and I won't insult you with wailings of pity. Perhaps you can't literally be spoken of as sharp-tongued any more, but sharp-minded you are, and clarity of thought and written word places you among the more fortunate of humans.
Heck, you wasn't all that good-looking to start with, anyway.
When I heard about this article coming out...I was somewhat suspicious, perhaps not wanting to read it because I figured that the journalist would take a "pity Roger" or "death is close" approach. But after reading your take on it, I will now consider reading the piece. Keep reading, keep writing, keep sharing Roger!! Thank you!
Uh, hello? Can you say wise? Wow. I loved the paragraph where you say that we must contribute joy to the world. It really struck a cord--thanks for that. And thanks to Esquire for leading me to your blog. I'm looking forward to reading about your "liberalism and atheism and alcoholism," among other things. :)
The Esquire interview made me see Mr. Ebert in an entirely different light. Thank you for removing some of my judgments. And thank you for the follow up. Thank you also for reminding me to be grateful for small everyday things that I take for granted still.
Great article, great response, and great picture. They're all so human, which is what I think makes them so great. It really feels like nothing's been coated with PR spin or censored wording. It's real, which makes me respect you all the more.
It's also because of that human element of this story that I just had to make this:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/avatized/4366195803/
All the best.
Roger,
Your writing and perspective never cease to amaze me. They give me hope.
As a poster only slightly above said: "Your flaw's, are my flaw's, are our flaw's. And in each there is so much is to learn."
Roger: I loved the story in Esquire. And I loved the photograph. Hey, it is what it is. I am just glad you are here. Period. Don't really care what you look like. I know, that's easy for me to say.
You chose life. You are a fighter and a survivor and an inspiration.
As for being frail... huh. I remember blogging that the Ebertfest started to take a toll on me energy wise. Then I saw you over in your big chair at every screening, going out & greeting folks and I realized that you still got it - the will to get out there and keep doing what you do.
You made lemonade.
By the way, I love your quips and biting humor. You are saying out loud - so to speak - what your like minded folks are thinking... but I also love that you are always willing to apologize if you think you've gone too far.
I wish and hope upon wish and hope that you will be with us for many years to come. Me too, for that matter!
Love ya Roger!
yes, roger, you look like a cabbage patch critic now. But you're still beautiful to all your fans.
Hi Roger,
I was too young to appreciate your reviews over the last several years, but recently watched your commentary on the "special features" part of a DVD. The movie was "Graveyard of the Fireflies".
You were able to convey so much information about war, films that try to express it, and the differences between live acting and anime animation being able to capture the intensity of a subject. You reminded the viewer of the little details in a movie; the way the silence or space between the scenes is crafted is just as important as the main action. I was blown away by the raw honesty as you explained how this movie made you feel, and why.
I, too, misunderstood the earlier article, thinking we had lost you. As a new fan, I look forward to enjoying more of your thoughtful reviews. Thank you.
Mr. Ebert,
Thank you for agreeing to do the Esquire piece. I quite enjoyed reading it.
I've also quite enjoyed your writing for many years now. Even when I've disagreed with your opinion of a movie, I've always appreciated the thoughtfulness and intelligence of both your opinion and of your writing.
I look forward to reading your work for as long as you are willing to share it with us.
I wonder what it was like before mirrors. What good have they ever done?
Mr. Ebert (I've read your work and watched you on television for so many years, I feel like I should call you Roger),
I've never written to you before, but as a CU-Boulder alumnus, I enjoyed watching you speak during the film festival there in the early 90's. (The 'Pulp Fiction' year was especially fun.) I also visit your site weekly and I've started following you on Twitter. I enjoy your reviews, I share your politics, and I deeply appreciate the humanism and humanity you bring to everything you do. For many years, I've told my friends that you're one of the only film critics any moviegoer can trust, because you give the films you see a fair shake, and if a film is "not for you" you admit as much. I'm moved by your personal story and inspired by your outspokenness and by how connected you've always been -- both in my CU days and now, in the age of the Interwebs -- with the arts community. The "last words" implications of the Esquire piece's headline may be good for drama, but as far as I can tell, it'll be a long time before we read your last words. I just wanted you to know how much one fan appreciated all the words you've given so far. Thanks for being an inspiration.
Couldn't agree with that last paragraph any more. It's what life is all about. Everyone has the choice to avoid or confront the obstacles in life.
just wanted to say hi from Deptford, London. I had heard of your shows etc before now but only read your blog etc via your twitter feed which always makes an interesting overnight dispatch from the US. I thought the esquire piece was excellent and quite moving.
Just got back from our local film club (it's in the back room of a pub) we saw "Milk" tonight which i enjoyed more than I thought would. I was surpirsed how emotional it was at the end and even though I knew some of the story got a real sense of the time and the things people had to do help spread cause of freedom.
Anyway I really enjoy your posts etc keep up the good work.
This article literally changed me and inspired me in so many ways. Thank you for giving such an intimate, raw, and honest interview. Not only did your story touch me, but the way the article was written has really inspired me on a professional level. One of my most favorite articles-- ever.
Ebert,
I've been a long time fan of yours. I always want to comment in some way or other on most of your posts but find I never have something insightful to say.
That's still the case this time, but I decided I don't mind being just another voice in the chorus as long as I get to say:
You Rock!
All my best,
C
May God bless you and keep both you and Chaz. You are a tremendous critic and a tremendous man.
The article was indeed very moving. While I was very aware of your surgeries, condition and Chaz's amazing support, this gave me an even greater appreciation of it all, which is saying something considering the tremendous admiration I already held for how you've handled it.
I am 24 and film has surpassed baseball as my greatest passion, largely because of you. I am sure that I learned more about movies from your Great Movies essays, reviews and all your other writing than in any of my 20-something credits from college film classes. I have probably read more of your words now than anyone else's, and I look forwards to reading many more.
Best wishes, and thank you.
Hogwash! There is no incremental dying .I miss terribly my two dead family members and every column you write I think of things i wouldn't have thought of otherwise. I read you and i hear you talking like "At The Movies" I didn't realize you didn't speak until this article. You and your voice exist beyond just some character I might know and i think this is true for many others. There is no incremenntal dying, either the wire in the blood or stillness.I greatly value reading almost everyything you have to say.It provokes me to compare what i think is important and how I say it.
Hogwash! There is no incremental dying .I miss terribly my two dead family members and every column you write I think of things i wouldn't have thought of otherwise. I read you and i hear you talking like "At The Movies" I didn't realize you didn't speak until this article. You and your voice exist beyond just some character I might know and i think this is true for many others. There is no incremenntal dying, either the wire in the blood or stillness.I greatly value reading almost everyything you have to say.It provokes me to compare what i think is important and how I say it.
I have been a fan of yours for close to 30 years, I marvel at your ability to pick great movies and often disagree with your choices. Like you I love chicago, as I have visited it often..and live you I am a cancer survior and like you I have a hero ( your Chaz + my Terry) who stands by me, pushes me, loves me and treats me the same regardles of what cancer tried to do to me. Mr. Ebert, I felt the article was great and energizing..I love the fact you allowed your picture to be taken...your honesty in its uncomfortabilty is awesome-I love the realness...I will share with you when I was reconstructed on my tata, I flashed it often as it had no nipple and i thought it was funny :) it shocked my sorors (delta sigma theta) and made my husband laugh! As I heard you have a bawdy sense of humor, I hope that made you laugh! One last thing Mr. Ebert- I am dubing you a cancer anhil8tor( cause you kicked cancer's A(*!), cause you have always been a survior! Much love and happiness to you, Chaz + your family one love Vickie "Breast Cancer Anhil8tor" Williams-Cullins
Even if, as in some science fiction film perhaps written by Roger Ebert, you were nothing but a brain floating in a jar, I would still turn to your film reviews first before I read any others or saw any movie. Body parts are so 20th century. You are the most talented group of neurons I know. Terrific Esquire story.
Roger,
I think I am following in your footsteps without even trying. Currently, I am in Champaign-Urbana trying to finish up my PhD, and found out that I had thyroid cancer in 2008. I've been to Houston and back a few times myself. Hopefully this past trip being my last for awhile.
I want to thank you for agreeing to this article. I often wish I had kept a journal through treatment because I am forgetting the overwhelming emotions I felt at each step. But from the article about you, I can see that the summation of those feelings have landed both of us with a similar outlook. It is comforting to read a story that resounded so strongly with me. Thanks again!
I think I've been an Ebert fan for years without realizing it. When I was a kid my mom had the 1987 edition of Roger Ebert's Video Guide and I used to read it so often that by 1998 she finally got me a new edition for Christmas. That's an odd present for a 19-year-old with no particular obsession over film or film criticism. I just enjoyed the writing. I still have it and just dive into it from time to time. It's probably time for me to get a new edition...
It's funny, but without really thinking about it, I realized recently that I go to read Ebert's review after every movie I see. I'm always disappointed when one isn't there.
I guess a few months ago someone must have retweeted him on Twitter and I started following him because he always had something smart, funny, quotable or interesting to say or to link. That's the mark of an excellent tweeter. When I finally went and purged most of the "celebs" out of my Twitter list - too much to keep up with - Ebert was one of the few celebs that survived the cuts.
The Esquire article shocked and moved me. I guess I've been a fan of his writing, but never really thought about the man or followed him in the news, so I wasn't at all aware of his illness and surgeries. The article made me cry, and more importantly, I think, it made me aware of how much I take for granted. I've not been able to shake that feeling since reading it - I see things differently, feel grateful for my health, and feel extremely grateful indeed that Ebert has this medium (Twitter, the internet, his blog, his writing) to entertain and educate us.
Thanks for the lesson.
Like so many here, I was moved to tears by the Esquire article. Particularly as a writer myself, because I know that if I too were left without the ability to speak, I like to think I'd be grateful that I'd still retain my most effective form of self-expression, and that is through the written word.
That you have not only continued doing what you love, but doing it (in my opinion anyway) better than ever, is an inspiration to the rest of us lazy schmoes out there wasting time applying ourselves when we have nothing stopping us but our own faulty beliefs about the permanence of health and life.
I have been reading your work for twenty years, or since I was eleven years old and hunting down your syndicated reviews every Friday in papers in Michigan and Ohio, and then eventually online and of course on television. When I want to hear Roger Ebert, I can listen to the commentary on my Dark City DVD, but it is your words and wisdom that will always resonate, voice or no. To this day, I still want to be you when I grow up. :)
I think you are hot. Beauty is in the person not the shell, and you- you are beautiful :)
I read the Esquire piece at work (oops) and found it quite moving. I was curious what your reaction would be and am glad to see it's not unfavorable. Thanks for staying prolific.
To quote a movie you disliked, Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.
Mr Ebert –
I’m glad this finds you well. I grew up in Chicago, and I grew up with Siskel & Ebert. I have such vivid memories of watching the program every week (and the theme song still plays in my head as I write this). And in your spirit of full disclosure I have to admit I was a “Siskel” guy. I think to many Chicagoans it was similar to the Cubs and Sox – you picked a side when you were young and you stuck with it. I seemed to always agree with Gene and looked forward to seeing him needle you over your reviews or during your Carson and Letterman visits. When he died, it felt like losing a close friend.
But then something changed. As I grew older (and even found myself having a career in the arts), I learned more about your gift for writing. I went back and read old reviews and articles of yours – and I gained a newfound appreciation for what I can now see that my guy Siskel knew all along.
Since I bet you read these, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for making me love movies as much as you and Gene seemed to every week. Thank you for the ability to view film with a critical eye and also a sense of wonder. Thank you for Hoop Dreams and House of Games and every film you championed that I still tell friends to see. Thank you again.
Signed --- an “Ebert” guy
Roger Ebert!
Saw you on PBS as a kid. You and Gene taught me what syndication is. You write of Great Movies; you are a Great Human. One of my favorites. Growing up watching the show (learned at age 14, that Charles Grodin and De Niro made a good buddy film); the more I watched the more I noticed the way you embrace life via film. It's had a profound impact on my development. There is something about the way you have always been comfortable in your own skin that teaches me to be more involved with those around me.
That Buena Vista threw away your set is a good argument there is not a god.
I have the utmost respect for Roger Ebert and view him as 'the' authority on film criticism. I’ve been reading his reviews for years and enjoyed his television show ‘At the Movies’ with Gene Siskel. As a former gifted literature teacher, a favorite activity in my classroom was the Siskel-Ebert book review debate in front of the classroom. My students enjoyed this activity immensely and especially the thumbs up or thumbs down at the conclusion.
You can imagine my delight when I finally met Roger and Chaz after a film screening at Lake Street 3 years ago. I became a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association this past year a dream I’ve had for some time. Now I see Roger and Chaz on a regular basis. My favorite inside story regarding the screening room was a time last fall when I saw Roger out of the corner of my eye adjusting the heating thermostat. I thought to myself, this is ‘his’ home away from home; a very natural act indeed.
The Esquire article was extremely informative as I had no idea as to the depth of the struggles or the story of Roger’s medical condition. To see him on a weekly basis, one would not deduce that he has been so ill, as he has a pleasant nature and a wonderful smile. I’m honored and humbled to be his movie reviewing colleague.
Hi Roger,
I love the fact that you are brave, honest and naughty all at the same time.
The Esquire article captured you in a sweet and poignant picture frame. I would never have known that you have long and sensitive fingers and that you use these fingers, as the light flickers in your study, to reach out and touch thousands of people who are in awe of your intellectual gifts.
When someone writes of pain or isolation your brief commentary seems to extend a helping hand to a person who is alone in the dark of their mind. What a powerful gift your cancer has given you while it robbed you of your health. If I had the power to grant you health it would be my greatest wish. Since this is impossible I can only marvel at your powers of observation, friendship, love and curiosity to stay invested in this world.
Mr Jones is a wonderful writer. It would be fun to read a dual journal by you and your wife about the fun and frenzy of your lives together!
Your journey shows a vibrant picture of images. There is a special voice that the reader hears loud with the tones of lightness and fun, memory and recollection, populated with friends, family and places of the heart. A walking tour of your mind.
We must thank both you and Mr Jones for helping to put into the public domain your very complex existence. And please Roger, no more talk of death! All one has to do is to find your blog to feel your life force.
Be well my friend,
Judy Shuster
Mr. Ebert,
I think you put into words what I cannot. Your writing brings out a feeling in me that I can't really explain. Sorry if this comment seems incomplete, I just don't know how to convey all of the things you've helped me with over a computer. Thank you.
Holly
Roger-
I have been exceedingly lucky to not have had to fight a serious illness in my life, but have friends and family members who have battled various kinds of cancer, some with success and some not. Thanks so much for your honesty and willingness to share your daily life with the public through your Esquire interview. Despite the challenges we all face, big and small, life goes on. Unfortunately for too many, there doesn't come a day where a survivor can think "this is it, I've beaten it, I don't have to worry anymore". I think you're able to speak for many survivors who may not be as articulate in voicing their feelings such as you.
All the best to you and Chaz ... you know that those stories like the one with the wedding photos drives us wives crazy, right??
Roger,
I was just reading a book by Leonard Susskind ("The Black Hole War"), and in it Susskind briefly discusses how Hawking sort of blossomed after he was diagnosed with his disease, and that Hawking felt he was ultimately better off--or even happier--for it. In fact, I think he says something to the effect that he wouldn't have believed that for a second if it weren't Hawking himself.
I'm not trying to compare you to Hawking (I'm not even sure what such a comparison would mean), but it is interesting that the Esquire article seemed to say something similar about you. Well, maybe not the blossoming part, but it seems from the article and some of your quotes in it that the writing you're doing now has allowed you to continue to grow in a way you might not have otherwise.
I wouldn't expect that you think this is your true calling, but maybe it's an expanded version of it. Anyways, it was interesting to read the Esquire article at the same time as the book.
Cheers
I was very moved by the interview. Very well written--true. Your writing in the past few months has made the Internet a much better place to be: richer, more thoughtful, mindful of talent and artistic passion. Thanks for all your insight, links, thoughts and opinions. Plus your show with Siskel was so damn entertaining. I think it made me love the movies even more when I as growing up. An exceptional body of work, sir!
25 years ago I saw a movie that was so bad I had to get the word out. I was 10 and the movie was "Return to Oz." I was a fan of Siskel and Ebert so just writing a review wasn't going to cut it. I got my tape recorder and recorded my scathing review. (Knowing me, I probably followed it with some show tunes.)
I seriously love(d) you guys.
Also, I had no idea your wife was so hot. Wow.
Fangirling you from Georgia,
Katy
Hi, Roger...
A fine article by a good writer about another writer, very good, indeed. The photos are cringe-inducing, but none of us responding would look significantly better after those surgeries, and frankly, my curiosity is now assuaged. I'd wondered, idly, over the past couple of years, just exactly what was wrong, the scope of it, and so on, and now I know. Time, then, to move on.
I wouldn't have guessed it from the TV show so much, but the blog reveals that we have similar political views, similar religious views, and while my devotion can't match yours, a similar affection for Steak 'n Shake. More's the pity that there are none here in the Twin Cities, nor were there any in Denver when I lived there. Now, when I go back to St. Louis to visit friends and family, I not only make a pilgrimage to Faraci Pizza, I also make a point of having lunch at a Steak 'n Shake.
I've read the blog and the responses with increasing appreciation, and sometimes amazement, and would simply like to add that, as others have suggested, either explicitly or implicitly, you and Gene Siskel brought me to film. One of the great frustrations of “Siskel & Ebert” on TV when I lived in St. Louis was that the local station purportedly carrying the show routinely moved it to odd hours in the middle of the night, often without prior warning, so hunting the two of you down on the tube began to seem like a less-than-thrilling detective adventure.
The blog is easier to find. You write evocatively, and like others, I can still hear your voice in my head when I read the words on the page. We're only a couple years apart, and as I listen to my knees protest when I stand up from sitting in a chair, try to avoid sleeping on the shoulder that hurts, and so on through all those nagging failures that provide ammunition for Bette Davis' line that "gettin' old ain't for sissies," it occurs to me that, in ammunition terms, you've gotten a full broadside.
That said, “do not go gently into that good night.” I look forward to the next reviews, and the next installment(s).
Hi Roger,
I've enjoyed your work for decades. You remind me of Red Smith, whom I read in the New York Times when I was a kid. I always assumed Red would be around forever, he was such a standard fixture in the sports section, writing his easy breezy prose...Hope you're around for many more years, writing your own fine prose, but in any case I think the way you've handled your hardships provides a lesson in real living. No complaints. Play your role. Write your stories. Treat your fellow travelers with kindness...Now that's a story that should be a movie.
Take care,
John
I can't remember the first time I heard of Roger Ebert. My knowledge of him probably came with my increasing appreciation for movies over my life. The script for the story of me and the movies would require some significant rewrites because it does not follow a straightforward plot. But then, how many things in life do? I have always loved movies, even before I really knew why. The first movie I can remember seeing is "The Bridge on the River Kwai" (my dad raised me on old war movies).
And as I began to understand movies better, I recognized that some movies came with the phrase "Two Thumps Up!" I began to realize that phrases like this did not come from the filmmakers, but from film critics, people who watched the movies and wrote about them. People didn't always refer to critics in the best light. "Well, that's just what the critics think" was (and has always been) in constant use.
My dad was my mentor in film, always introducing me to great movies. He talked about critics whenever a new movie would come out. Sometimes that would involve saying that it might not be a good idea to see a movie because it got bad reviews. Other times it would be the other way around. The critic that my dad referred to more than any other was Roger Ebert. I knew that Ebert was one of the "Thumps" that were "Up" on good movies. Over the years, finding out what Roger Ebert thought about a movie became second nature. I can remember waiting with suspense to find out what Ebert thought about "Finding Nemo" and "The Lord of the Rings: the Return of the King."
When I was 12, I started reading Ebert's past reviews on the internet. I found out what he thought about movies I loved, movies I didn't love so much, and movies I had never heard of. It became a little bit of an addiction. I read many reviews multiple times, and I'm not entirely sure why. Ebert became (and still is) the first critic I turn to for new movies. I don't always agree with him (I think he has underrappreciated "Rushmore" and the "Lord of the Rings" Trilogy), but no two people could possibly agree all the time.
I have wanted to make movies since I was very young, for longer than I can remember. Even when I was nine years old, I had movie ideas floating around in my head. That has not changed now that I am 17. For some of these ideas, I know everything about the movie. I know every cut, every camera move, sometimes even the music. And they don't even exist, yet. I hope the emphasis is on the word "yet". My dream is to someday direct a movie that is released in theaters. An even bigger dream is to direct a movie that you review. The ultimate dream would be to direct a movie that you love, give 4 stars to, put on your Best of the Year list (whether or not you list 10 or 20 movies isn't important). But you know what, I would happy just to read a review you write about a movie I make, even if you don't like it. I know that I would be able to make a better film the next time.
But even if that never happens, I (we, everyone)still have your reviews, the ones from the past and the many that are still to come. The essays and blogs you have written about movies and so many other things in life. Even if I am never able to make a feature film, I can be happy watching the movies that have been and always will be, and those that are still to come, always with your reviews alongside the movies.
You know, we are what we are, and we are what we were. I smile to myself every time I think about those heated arguments you used to have with Gene Siskel and how one could tell you really cared for each other, and yet you guys still let it fly. I miss there not being more of those moments.
I'm fifteen years old, practically womb-fresh and ignorant in comparison to who I want to become. I haven't seen much, but there are people who enrich my life every day by helping me explore more aspects of the world. You are one of those people. Thank you for all that you do.
I will be eternally grateful that you have had, and continue to have, so many excellent last words.
Mr. Ebert, I don't find you hard to look at at all. Honestly, and I mean this in a good way, you kinda remind me of the puppet "Madame," which is heartwarming for me. I love the pictures of you in your study, you look so kindly and at peace. You have to admit...you were a bit curmudgeon-looking before.
All the best to you, one of my very favorite liberals, whose wit transcends politics.
Joel Manuel
Baton Rouge LA
Hi Roger,
I enjoyed reading the Esquire article. It gave me a bit of an insight of who you are. And I got pretty angry when I got to the Disney part. I loved the Lee Marvin piece.
What I’d really like to read are your notes from that day. Did any of them include...
“I’m a little scared right now. I fear something bad is going to happen if this guy doesn’t get his beer.”
All the best,
--Jeff
Dear Mr Ebert
I have been a genuine cinephile (which word I use in place of ‘cineaste’ because it does not have the same connotations of pretentiousness and, god knows, knowledge) for a mere two or three years since discovering film as an art form as opposed to light entertainment in my late teens and you are still my primary source of film knowledge. As a previous poster wrote on this thread you have become my ‘unofficial film professor’ and I can honestly say that without your writing I would not have discovered half the films I have. It was only thanks to you, not having many (if any) friends who are as ‘into’ movies as I am, that I discovered Truffaut, Kurosawa, Welles and all the other greats who are nowhere near as famous as they should be. It was your review (or possibly your Great Movie article, I can’t remember) that finally persuaded me to actually get round to watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, the movie which first revealed to me the wonders of Kubrick (who to my mind is unequivocally the most interesting director I have ever had the pleasure to watch a movie by) and thus more than anything else kindled in me a desire to become a director myself. In the (highly) unlikely event I am ever standing on the oscar podium I’ll be sure to put you alongside the family dog and my Mum's friend's sister's aunt's hamster on the list of thankees (but don't worry - you'll be much higher than the hamster).
And yet in writing this blog you have succeeded in becoming more than just a film scholar (or whatever label you prefer) and reached the position of a guru or a sage. Your writing is beautiful and insightful and the responses it generates are often fascinating. Yours is I think the only blog on the internet where there is no danger of being attacked by a snark. I am heartened to hear (or read) of you talking about your blog with such great affection.
‘You are the readers I have dreamed of,’ –
we do our best.
Best Wishes,
Phil (film lover and aspiring director)
I was a hypochondriac when I was younger and my mother was newly Buddhist. When I'd be like "maw, I'm dying over here!" (always as Al Pacino dramatic as possible) she'd reply, "we're all dying, honey." It wasn't comforting at the time, but it certainly is true!
If all magazines had pieces like this, I'd buy them off the newsstand every month. Between New York Magazine's Oscar piece last week and getting two David Foster Wallace essay books last week, I really feel like an era in writing, wonderful writing, delving into topics, is just slipping away. I'm glad that Chris Jones was able to write such a beautiful portrait of your zest for engaging in life. Really inspiring.
Anyways, to add to the chorus: Siskel and Ebert was my favorite show when I was six and I would wait for it every Saturday morning. Eventually I got to your writing on the web and what really struck me was that - well, there's a lot of writers punching a clock, but you really manage to get to the meat of what's interesting about a film, and it gives your writing such punch. I hate cynical consumer reviews and your writing is never that shallow. I learn about life in your writing; the best films can do that, the best art does, and you certainly do.
And if it wasn't for you, I doubt I would've started writing about film professionally, and while I'm doing less of it these days, (as it's simply not a career for twentysomethings) it's still inspired by your example. And it's funny, too, because whenever I'm looking up something of recent vintage, sometimes I read what you wrote about film X and have to think "Ebert put it beautifully, as he does." And then I think, well, I could try to talk about this film, but, ah, "Ebert (already) did it." (But I mean that in the most respectful way. I'm still writing!)
Dear Roger,
As others have written, I feel like I know you well enough to be so informal. And that knowledge was only enhanced by the excellent piece in Esquire and your commentary on the article. As always, I find your journal and your reviews to be thought-provoking.
I am certain you are quite familiar with the "Serenity Prayer" by the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr. But reading Chris Jones' description of you and Chaz made me think of the Niebuhr quote that always resonated for me: "Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we are saved by love."
Best wishes
I've been a fan of your writing ever since I was about 12 and read your review of "Jaws: The Revenge." I thought it was perhaps the funniest thing I'd ever read, and I would spend hours poring over your reviews and renting the movies you'd especially loved.
In high school, I was one of the Trib's teen movie reviewers. I went to hear you speak at a reading at the Borders near Old Orchard and wanted to introduce myself as such, but then I remembered that you'd once made a pointed (though funny and entirely accurate) jibe about us in one of your reviews. I let my shyness get the better of me, though now I wish I hadn't.
I thank you for many things. Through your writing, you've given me and many others an excellent education and greater appreciation of film. Your quote in the Esquire article about joy so eloquently expresses such a simple truth. I have placed it where I can see it every morning as a reminder to myself as to how to live each day.
I read Esquire article last night and I was touched deeply. It was beautiful article about you. It has indeed sad and elegiac tone, and I have to say I have never thought of you watching movies in that way. I have just assumed that you just walk to the screening room and sit down on your seat and begin scribbling. Regardless of that and long road of twisted recovery process, Chris Jones's piece is ultimately optimistic. You still write lots of notes during screening, you still writes a lot with your computer, and you can walk around pond outside with your beautiful devoted wife. And there are lots of books(I was amazed!). And to think "Great Movies Part 3" is coming. We cannot stop something inevitable, but I hope you will be able to see book cover of Part 4.
P.S.
1. Full disclosure by my brutal honesty
I was caught off guard by your picture and my brain automatically asked, "From which horror movie did I see such feature like that? Hellbound?" But your story belongs to awe-inspiring drama, not horror, Mr. Ebert. Your relentless passion will never stop until you body calls out irrevocable closure.
2. The reactions from article reminds me of this.
"Louise, people in this country aren't interested in details. They don't even trust details. The only thing they trust is headlines."
- one of memorable lines from "Birdcage"(1996)
I would have added this comment to your entry about Blackie, but it seems like that one is closed to new comments. No matter. The other day you Tweeted a video about trying to decide which dog you would adopt. Was it a daydream, or are you really considering adopting a dog?
I've always felt heartbroken about poor Blackie's fate.
Roger,
I doubt that this experience is unique to me, but when I read the article, that big head shot happened to appear next to a photo link to a Scarlett Johansen image gallery. When I noticed this, I did a double take, and then immediately thought, 'these are both equally beautiful pictures.'
I had to think a bit about what my brain meant by that, because obviously it didn't mean an equal physical beauty (no offense!)
What I came up with is this: it is beautiful that you are alive, and that you are able to continue doing the work you love. And it is beautiful to see you as you are.
Wishing you many, many more years of health, happiness and productivity, for your sake and ours.
I'm seventeen years old. Although I have grown up hearing your name, bits and pieces here and there, only recently have did I start reading your journal and reviews. I can't help but feel that we are somewhat kindred spirits. We view both films and life through similar glasses.
You're undoubtedly a beautiful writer and many of your insights have struck deep chords with me, some have even caused me to rethink who I am and how I want to be.
Of course, there have been a few reviews that I have felt were 'questionable' in my mind, but I have always understood where you were coming from. Those particular reviews with which I have disagreed have made me reexamine the films and myself.
I read your writing in disbelief that another person could have such a similar way of interpreting the world. In short, your reviews and blog manage to both reassure and shake my foundations time and time again.
The Esquire article was beautiful. However, I took it with a large grain of salt. Although enthralling, I glanced at some of the prose and couldn't help but wonder if and hope that they were exaggerations.
Still, overall, I loved the article. It was painfully honest but managed to paint a picture of a thoughtful and extraordinarily strong individual.
Thank you.
I don't know about the rest of you folks out there, but I am proud to be part of this lucky world of "Ebertheads!" Reading all of this love to this great man feels me with joy!
As a fellow Chicagoan, you are simply a part of the fabric of my life. You've always been there because you became an important media presence before I was born, and you've remained there for my entire life to date. Rightfully so, as this blog post reminds me.
I'm glad these aren't your last words. It would be our loss if they were. I haven't been a regular reader in the past - I just assumed you'd always be around, as you always have. But guess what? You're mortal! You may not have one foot in the grave, but you are dying as incrementally as any of us.
I've subscribed to your blog and your twitter feed. I guess I have some reading to catch up on.
I'd admit seeing the photo of you was a big jolt but your words reminded me our physical looks are the shallowest parts of ourselves. I think losing one's mind in their remaining years has greater sorrow to it than any physical pain or ailement we may endure. Like you friend Gene, in pain with cancer, working right up to the end. It's best to go with your wits intact and your imagination continually reinventing the world around you, and to appreciate and enjoy the love and support you receive from Chaz and your daughters and all the other friends, family, and colleagues that surround you. I have enjoyed your reviews, your musings, your passion for art, you righteous sense of outrage at social injustice, your belief in the better parts of human beings. I had grown up with Siskel and Ebert, and as that era draws to a close, I can be thankful the passion you two have for cinema and for art and philosophy in general has been passed on to me and others that read your articles or watched your show. Until then, continue the work and teach the young and the young at heart to strive and love and appreciate all the beauty in this world.
Best regards to the many years that are still offered to you,
Derek.
I thoroughly liked the Esquire interview.
For some reason, I kept on thinking of Lou Gehrig's "Luckiest Man" farewell speech, particularly two parts: (a) the ending ("I might have been given a bad break, but I've got an awful lot to live for);
(b) but even moreso, this line: "Sure, I'm lucky.... when you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and has shown more courage than you dreamed existed".
Thank you and Chazz for letting us walk down your garden.
Juan Ramón Vallarino J.
Panama City, Republic of Panama
"people from Comcast are coming over to their Lincoln Park brownstone not long from now, because their Internet has been down for three days, and for Ebert, that's the equivalent of being buried alive: C-O-M-C-A-S-T."
As God as my witness, you'll never be without internet again!
In addition to your humanity, honesty, and integrity, Roger, one thing that really shines through in that moving article is that you're a real techie at heart, whether it's about the mechanics of projecting and viewing a film, using your bourgeois Apple products, or burning without an active IP address. So here's some very useful advice: you've undoubtedly replaced your busted iPhone charger by now, so go jailbreak your iPhone and install PDAnet, which will give your laptop an internet connection through the 3G network wherever and whenever you have 3G. I'm posting precisely in this way right now with a laptop connecting through an iPhone and 3G, and can testify that this works very well. Plus, you'll be able to set your iPhone background to your favorite Third Man image, which along with jailbreaking, removes the bourgeois stain from the iPhone. Google is your friend to set this up, which takes a lot less time than a visit from the Cable Guy.
Thank you so much for sharing your experiences over the past few years. Having health challenges is exasperating and challenges your personal relationships. You are very lucky indeed with your lovely bride- gorgeous pictures of her above, by the way.
I am very excited to hear that "The Pot and How to Use It" is coming!
This was a really well written piece, but it was sad. Sad that a good man such as Roger Ebert had to suffer so much and continues to suffer, yet still finds so much about life to love and keep the fire burning inside (to quote my favorite film of the year, The Road).
My friends and I do a film show on YouTube called The Cinefiles. And let me say that if it wasn't for Siskel and Ebert, we would not be doing this show. Roger and Gene inspired us. After Gene's too-early demise, Roger has continued to inspire us. These two men made it VERY COOL to talk about movies. And to have them on any talk show as guests, or just Roger, was such a treat. I especially loved the many appearances on Howard Stern.
If I am lucky enough to have Roger watch one of our episodes and comment, awesome. We are way more crass than he ever was, but we are very passionate about our love of cinema (or hate of certain directors/producers/half-baked studio players). And once again, Roger taught us to be vocal about that passion. He was like our favorite college professor, or a family friend that knows so much, you want to glean as much knowledge and lore possible.
And I could go on and on ...
But I will keep it short and simple and just say, Thank you, Roger. Thank you for all you gave us film fans in terms of words, thoughts, and opinions. And thank you for all the beautiful wisdom you dispense to this very day.
Forever in appreciation,
Michael Foltz
roger, the photos are beautiful. your writing is something i always look forward to. for me, some of the best words about film and life. i check every day for new stuff. thanks.
Brilliantly written. Glad to know you're not one of those sentimental hypocrites.
Mr Ebert
I would like to thank you for taking the time to do the interview with Esquire. It was an amazing piece about an amazing person.
Don't misunderstand me. I disagreed often with you when I saw you and Gene Siskel reviewing movies. I didn't much like you at the time. I don't know why I thought that. I realize (and did then if I didn't think about it) that what we see is a small glimpse of who a person really is.
The reason you are an ispiration is not because of celebrity, what you have gone through nor the struggles you face. The latter are inspiring, but not the main reason the article touched me.
I admire you because you seem to be a person who is determined to be everything he can be. That is what we all strive for. To see someone who has something to say and is saying it is inspiring. To see someone who is enjoying and appreciating life makes you want to do the same.
We see a small sliver of a person on TV or in a magazine. The small sliver I have seen of you is wonderful. I wish you all the best and hope you keep letting you word be heard.
Roger,
Now I have deeper insight into your past few years
Now I have an image of you, your books and your MacBook Pro
Now I know more about my movie going friend
Thanks for taking the risk
And in case you didn't already know,
there's much love out here for you
We love you for who you are....
Rob
Mr. Ebert,
I read the article and thought it was great.
Like so many others I have been a fan of yours for years. Two (very different) things stand out.
One Christmas years ago my parents gave me your book "I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie!" [probably not exact title]. No book has ever made me laugh so damn hard. My parents still comment on that. A couple of my friends and I kind of like watching a really attrocious movie now and again, and we have used that book, and the sequel, as inspiration for many enjoyable "bad movie nights".
But then some of your "reviews" go so far beyond a movie review...they become beautiful pieces of literature and philosopy. At times I have been inspired to see movies, read books, discuss philosopy, etc. from a "only" a movie review. Examples that come to mind are your reviews of "Solaris", "Knowing", and "Magnolia" - I am sure that I am forgetting many others. That is an amazing talent.
I wish you all the best. Keep on writing, man!
Finally, seen any *bad* movies lately - I could go for a third dose of movies you just "hated, hated, hated...." :)
Bryan
Roger, I am a longtime fan and reader of your work.
I am a film teacher and I use your work as an example of excellence in class. I teach in Brazil. I know I am just another person and you have had a Pullitzer and praise from much more important people, but I just had to tell.
I love your writing as a critic and I love your writing here. It makes me feel alive and grateful for being able to get in touch with your mind. "To go gently in that good night" was such a masterful piece... And I know you are such a good human being! Reading your words is refreshing and it makes me feel good to be alive. Please keep posting and doing this. Oh man, the thanks so much for sharing your mind with us!
After reading this I had to head over and read the Esquire article. Admittedly it was strange to read an observer's perspective of you, since I'm so used to reading your direct thoughts here and in your books. It almost didn't seem...right. The article also scared me a little. It made it sound like a puff of air could knock you over. And "dying in increments" sounds so morbid.
I know that you insist that a puff of air is NOT going to knock you over but I feel like I should tell you how much I love your writing and how fascinated I have become with movies because of it...it's difficult to express how much it means to me, and how much you have opened my eyes to the "art" of good films. Because of you, so far I have seen these gems to which I otherwise might not have paid much attention:
Citizen Kane
8 1/2
Bonnie and Clyde
City Lights
On the Waterfront
M
The Bicycle Thief
The Exterminating Angel (unfortunately did not see full version yet)
Metropolis
I recently bought The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and I plan on seeing many others from your Great Movies list too. Tonight I will watch The Great Dictator and will keep your review in mind.
Thank you.
Thanks for sharing a little bit of your life. It is almost cinematic to have this detailed description of the outside you - this character who walks, has a physical setting, a life filled with both usual and somewhat unusual scenes. The article is framed with an outsider perspective - a stranger given access to your life and trying to understand what is in your head and who you are. The cool part is we know novelesque detail about the way you think, feel and dream - unlike the characters on film whose motivations and philosophies we usually have to guess at or extrapolate. The Esquire article would have been interesting on its own but has a synergistic effect when coupled with the inner dialogue we have been privy to over the past few years.
It must be strange to be famous and have so many people care/comment/pry/speculate/demand and, in general, insert themselves into your life. You must enjoy it on some level. I have enjoyed and am enjoying the show. Keep up the good work.
One of the quotes in the Esquire article that I found truly piercing was the following:
"I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out."
This is an extraordinarily positive worldview to have, and I think many of us benefited from your observations, witticisms, and honesty. More than anything, your consistent commitment to the truth has impacted anyone who has read your writing, and it has made the world a better place.
While I think the Esquire article's headline is a bit, well, callous, I believe Chris Jones' intent is clear throughout the article: as others have said, it isn't a 'farewell, Roger Ebert' piece. I actually read it as being an intimate introduction to you, with the intention of letting the True Roger ('Full Disclosure') Ebert shine through.
It's often noted that we live in an age wherein our connections are less and less personal - we rely on mediums such as Twitter, with its 140-character limit, to express ourselves to anonymous audiences. But as the internet allows us to share our intimate feelings with millions (billions?) of people, it also allows us to form un-conventional relationships with people we've never met. I think that many of your readers think of you as a friend and, to some extent, a confidante (which is evident when reading all these comments). This article opened up this side of you to people who may never have seen it, and for that, I think we can all agree that it has made the world a brighter place.
So for this, and for everything else, thanks.
I've got two Couchsurfers staying in my house tonight. After dinner we watched Crazy Heart which we all loved and talked about how Jeff Bridges is as natural and gifted an actor as yes, wait for it, Cary Grant. They're now watching Brotherhood of the Wolf, the world's greatest and only French martial arts/horror/religious/historical drama ever made. I'm sharing two movies I love with people who were strangers to me a few hours ago. I came up to bed feeling like Roger Ebert. And then I read Roger's response to the Esquire article. And I cried. And i saw the picture. And I cried some more. And I'm crying now as I write this because if more of us felt like Roger, wrote like Roger, thought like Roger, ironically enough we wouldn't necessarily need the escape of the movies that much. Cause life would be that much better. Roger's that good.
David Castro
The Bronx/now Asheville, NC
Roger I've disagreed with your reviews more times than I could count but even when I'm thinking "Is he nuts?!" I immediately follow it with "Damn the guy is great!"
You're a real rock star of the written word, and in a world where movie critics are being gradually phased out by the media, you've remained a loud voice in film and we can hear you loud and clear, and we love to hear you talk through your written words.
Keep it strong.
Fan for life,
Felix Vasquez Jr.
I'm still puzzled at the fact that people with disfigurements continue to look on them as a counter-productive measures in their life. Why put your face in a magazine at all looking like that? Ok, that's how you look, I see how it could be shocking to -some-. But in all honestly people see things much worse than that on the internet all day long browsing through the various shock-sites and such. I know you're not doing it for sympathy. And if it's an 'interesting' read that Chris wanted, ask yourself: would you still have gotten the interview request if you didn't look like that?
You say you don't look at yourself in the mirror. If you don't like the way you look, do something about it. This is your chance. Have someone make you a nifty looking porcelain lower jaw, something Phantom of the Opera-esq. A metal collar with some sci-fi tech that completes your transformation. You can get away with it now. Robocop did it, Darth Vader did it, and who better to follow the wear-a-custom-body-part than the man who reviewed them? As silly as that sounds it is the year 2010. Celebrities wear crazy stuff to get attention. You'd be doing it for a different reason, to look whole again.
We've seen terrible things happen to good people. As much as I can't stand you as a movie reviewer (I could have torn my eyes out with the mistakes in that GI Joe reciew...argh) I can at least stand by you as a man. What God has taken away from your face you can put back. And if you don't believe in the almighty, put yourself back together anyway.
I thoroughly enjoyed Jones' article. I'm happy for he and you both that you enjoyed it too. I think Chris took a much better line than "he's not dead yet;" that wasn't my take away, at least. It was more of a "you're going to have to try harder to take me down."
I'm younger and never really got to know you (or Gene) in your heyday, and if I had, I still wouldn't have known a good movie (or a good critique) if it bit me. I'm looking forward to getting to know you now, and finding those good critiques, too.
Thank you for sharing with Chris and with us.
Hi Mr. Ebert,
I was reading the article in Esquire while watching Star Wars on DVD with my children. It is interesting to me that the reason I am watching Star Wars for the first time is because my 5 year old son talks about the characters in the movie all the time. My 9 year old daughter, myself and ofcourse my son love what we have seen so far and cannot wait to get home in the evening, so we can watch the next installment.
One of the most amazing experiences as a mom has been to discover old classics, and in some cases rediscover, by watching them with my children and hearing their perpectives on what they are seeing.
All the best to you and keep up the great work.
P.S: another recent movie was Chitty Chitty Bang
Bang, which my kids loved.
Mr. Ebert,
I started watching you and Mr. Siskel in the 80s, in the basement of my parents' house in a smallish town in Ontario, Canada. I knew about all the best movies before they came to town. I felt like the only kid on my block who had heard of Blood Simple (this was probably true), let alone knew it was a film I simply had to see. I watched Sneak Previews religiously, thinking you and Gene were my secret, having no idea that your Pulitzer was already a decade old.
In my young adulthood, as is often the case, I became disdainful of what I perceived (narrowly) as populism. I took issue with your Four Star Movie Guide, because the first entry was About Last Night. It might have taken a decade before I reconciled my own tastes to what I had been taught about art – the truth being that art is what moves you, and what moves the artist to create. Art is not defined by how many people speak well of it, whether ten or ten million. And hadn't you, in the intro to that same guide, described an encounter where you recommended a film based on its critical reception, only to be told, "That doesn't sound like something we'd want to see"? Now I can say honestly with neither shame nor pride: Potempkin bored me nearly to tears. And Friday night at our place is often "stuff blowing up night."
Eventually I became a writer and internet geek. And still I loved movies. After every film I watched, yours was the first review I read on IMDb. In reading your review of Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo, through tears of laughter and amazement, I re-learned what I already knew; you are fairminded and funny, decent and dangerous. And deserving of a second Pulitzer.
I once read a quote from someone close to Professor Stephen Hawking, saying that while his disability could never be considered a blessing, it may have enabled him to focus on his work with fewer distractions, and was perhaps responsible in part for his prolificacy. And while the blind man whose other senses are heightened is as much a trope as a truism (I'm picturing David Strathairn in Sneakers now), before the Esquire article was published I wondered if the frequency, lucidity, and emotional content of your online output might be a by-product of your physical hardship in like fashion – a boon to your readers, and, we hoped, comfort to you as well.
I won't go on at length about all the other areas in which my wife and I feel a kinship with you. At the very least I will reiterate that we are Canadian, on the left side of the American political spectrum, and it is heartening to read your voice speaking out as if for ours on topics that are dear to us – not just as filmgoers but as human beings.
I have to end on what inspired me to write in the first place. Having read Mr. Jones' article with great interest and sympathy, your own entry on the subject was like the rare DVD commentary that actually adds to our appreciation of the film which preceded it. But from one writer to another, I think I read the sentence "She looked at me like the eighth wonder of the world" three times over. Someday I hope to write a sentence like that, and put such a clear picture in a reader's head as you did in mine.
I have gone on too long. I mostly wanted to voice my appreciation, and say what I'm sure is on many of your readers' minds at this moment: This is your happening, Mr. Ebert, and it freaks us out.
Roger-
Here was a posting I put up on my facebook page immediatly after reading the article. I am working my butt off to be a good filmmaker, but I am not much of a writer. Still, it says how I feel about your work and the article, and I wanted to let you know that. Thank you for everything you have done and all of the great work you will do!
"Roger Ebert has always been my favorite movie critic. Even when I didn't agree with his reviews, he wrote with a poetry and enthusiasm about film that was infectious to me. Reading this powerful and intimate article on Mr. Ebert reminded me of days I spent as a kid in the 80's reading tons of reviews in one of his "Video Movie Guides". I know that beat up blue book I still own is a big reason I make films today.
One of my biggest dreams as a filmmaker is to one day have Roger review one of my movies. Good or bad review (or thumbs up or thumbs down I should say!) I know it would be a moment where I will realize that all of the work is paying off. I knew that a dream like that would take a few years, to get a feature good enough to be on his radar. I also knew he was quite sick when I graduated from the New York Film Academy in 2005. Still, the dream remains. Until then, I will continue to read his incredible reviews, blogs and books which because of his current state have become incredibly prolific. You can find them at www.rogerebert.com
Here, you can read an incredible article on one of motion pictures greatest treasures the last 40 years..."
You are the reason I found my métier in college, and the reason I've determined to pursue a lifelong career in film studies and pedagogy.
Thank you, Mr. Ebert.
I picked up the mag today, but I had already read the article online. I paused in the middle of a workout to read the first paragraph and never did get around to using the punching bag.
I think the section I found most fascinating was the work being done on your voice simulator. Capturing a person's essence through their accumulated recorded word may be less amazing that certain other advances of the modern day, but the way Chris described it got my mind racing. It struck me as the sort of thing Robert Heinlein or Phillip K. Dick would once have incorporated into a short story.
I don't know if you are reading this far down, Roger. But I loved the Esquire piece. It was nice to learn something more of the film critic I watched as a young boy. I'm only commenting because something you said in there struck me really hard (in a good way) "I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do."
I also feel lucky at having learned this, it seemed so simple when it occurred to me, I couldn't believe that it took me 30 years to really understand it. Best of luck, and I hope we both bring joy to the people we know and don't know yet in the days, weeks and years to come.
@ Lynne wrote:
"I don't know about the rest of you folks out there, but I am proud to be part of this lucky world of "Ebertheads!"
Chuckle; is that what they call us? Ebertheads?
If so, that's actually kinda cool; it's like being Trekkies.
Roger's Captain Kirk and the Spam Filter is Spock and we're the crew helping Evert to boldly go where no critic has gone before......! :)
For at the end of the day, it's about the journey, eh? And to that extent, yes indeed; it's nice being on board the ship.
Roger, I have enjoyed reading you as much as anyone from any time in history. Now don't get a big head, who am I to judge? But, you are simply not allowed to die. You must go on forever. Lacking that, you must outlive me. Nothing else will work. There. Now on with the show.
-drl
Another wonderful, thoughtful piece. Glad I discovered your blog. Thanks, Esquire!
I enjoyed the article and appreciated the way it was written to let me feel like I was spending a few days with Chaz and yourself (although I think I'd rather join you for a few days worth of walks around London).
I won't speak of pity or even of inspiration. Things happen to people, and some of those people get through it and come out the other end more interesting then they were before. You did, and you were already a pretty interesting fellow before.
I've noted something in your blog, and I thought I'd mention it and offer a future post idea. From time to time you mention your grandchildren, but we never hear about your children (or Chaz's children, or whatever the case may be), whom I suppose would be grown by now. We are slowing getting an unofficial non-chronological autobiography from your blog, but it seems to me the middle years are strangely absent. What were the 60s/70s like for you, the 80s? Help us fill in the middle part, dear Roger!
Future Ebert scholars will want to know.
I thought the Esquire article was very moving and this is an equally interesting follow-up. You are AWESOME Mr. Ebert! Keep shining bright!
That interview piece was incredible. I felt like I was right next to him experiencing everything at the same time he was. I had no idea you were so frail (I mean this in a kind-hearted way). I'm sorry and I hope things get better. Film criticism would never be the same without you and I hope you get to stick around for years to come. Best wishes on everything.
Roger,
You have been one of my heroes in both film writing and film criticism since I was very young. My mother crafted my film sensibilities in my youth in the 80s with The Sound of Music, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, High Noon and classic Disney (although I also worshipped Transformers). We watched you every Saturday on our CBS affiliate, and I read your reviews religiously shortly after I learned to read. Mom bought us your yearly Video Home Companion every year (I still have the '89 Black and White Tribute). I watched the show religiously (and incidentally always preferred you to Gene, especially after he threw a thumbs down to Last Crusade). Thank you for your writing, your honesty, and recently eschewing pity party BS and just continuing to write what you feel and bringing your much-needed perspective to life and film. Please keep writing so I can keep reading.....I don't really know life without it.
It was quite possibly the best interview I've ever had the pleasure if reading. It was absolutely fantastic.
I am so pleased to call you my hero, Mr. Ebert. Through your writing, you helped me unearth my passion of film. I will attending school in the United Kingdom (I live in Canada) for University next year for film studies. I don't know what career I will, but I know that it will always be linked to my greatest passion.
I thank you, Mr.Ebert, for opening my eyes to the wonders of cinema.
It's been said that we are born to die. What keeps death at bay is our ability to adapt. When things were lower than low, you and Chaz could have just given up. Instead, you and Chaz still emmbraced life -- developing ways to communicate and adapting to what life threw at you and forging ahead. No, Mr. Ebert, you still have a lot of living left!
The coolest thing, I thought, was the company that's going through all of your clips to bring your voice back to you. Wow...
Looking forward to the cookbook!
I love that beautiful closeup of you. But am I the only one who thinks it makes you look a lot like Siskel?
I was wondering if you were going to comment on the Esquire piece on your blog. I read the piece on Tuesday while I was suppposed to be working (here's hoping none of my bosses are fans of the blog), and found it quite lovely. But then I saw the Esquire cover today with the headline "The Last Words of Roger Ebert" or something to that effect, and wondered (foolishly, no doubt) if they knew something I didn't. Glad to hear you're still with us for a long time to come, and damn whoever came up with that cover for freakin' me out. Great piece though.
'"There is no need to pity me," he writes on a scrap of paper one afternoon after someone parting looks at him a little sadly. "Look how happy I am."'
This made me tear up more than anything. You've the strength of Hercules and the humour only of those I've met who have known loss closely and familiarly enough to tell it to fuck off until they deign to let it catch up again.
I look forward to reading and thoroughly enjoying Great Movies III and continue to feel that you did not lose your voice so much as I simply got to read more of it.
Ebert: Hey, that's not BS. I really am happy. I can read, write, watch movies, hear music, be around people, go places (even film festivals) and sleep well. I miss cooking more than I do eating. I'm happy.
LOL! Full Disclosure. The wedding albums. You remind me of me. It's emabarrassing - I will take other people's secrets to the grave but I doubt I'll have any of my own left.
Glad you're not dead and that we haven't yet heard your last words.
What's that statue of my mom doing in your office?
For a freak with no jaw, I find you most handsome. Both physically and literately.
I gave up on this piece when you apologized to Rush Limbaugh, who has set the bar so low for what can and can't be said in the media that I figure he very much deserves whatever is said about him under whatever circumstances.
I fully understand that it was likely my loss that I gave up so early in the piece. But I just couldn't progress any further. I could agree with every political belief Mr. Limbaugh holds, and I'd still think he deserves whatever is said about him under whatever circumstances.
My apologies for skipping the rest of your piece.
-The Albany Exile
After being moved by the Esquire piece, I went looking for the Youtube clips that disappeared so rudely from your "Remembering Gene" blog. Just wanted to let you and everyone know that some clips can still be found (see below) and it's a very good thing to go back and see you and Gene Siskel take down Howard Stern with such wit. Bless you-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPkoxox3sb0&feature=related
Mr. Ebert.
I have read and enjoy your film reviews for over 20 years. Keep up the good work.
Cheers,
...to you (and your lovely wife Chaz).
Dear Roger
Sorry to see you in this present condition I wish things were different. Strande how you and Gene were both struck down like this. I've been a fan of you both since 1979 - least that's as long as I remember for sure. I was a freshman in high school and getting interested in books and music (getting a little culture) and was eagerly awaiting Alien to be released so I made sure to catch you and Gene. You guys weren't as ecstatic/excited as I but you were thumbs up about the movie. Then when I moved back to the USA from England I got back into Siskel and Ebert again, was an avid follower for sure. So it was not the same without Gene but at least you were still there! Oh well. What do I take from your situation is not to bitch about my situation (cause it could be a whole lot worse) and live and enjoy life as you did and Gene also. And it would be nice if I could spread a little joy as you said to too but... we'll see. So thanks for being a part of my life and giving me an appreciation for film (Gene too)! Well we can't all live forever or the world would be even more crowded than it is now, just wish you didn't have to go out like this. Keep your chin up.
Thor.
I thougth the Esquire piece was beautiful -- honest, unflinching, moving. I like your view of death -- a return to where we were before we were born -- and, while I believe that, I can't say I've accepted it the way you have. Non-existence terrifies me (perhaps not as much, though, as existing forever).
On a cheerier note, can't wait to get the new books. Especially the one on rice cooker recipes!
I was glad to read the article, saddened by its elegiac tone--I, like many others, would've preferred something more upbeat, but I'm glad you feel Jones got all the important things right. You're someone who's been kind enough to correspond with me personally in the past, and I've never forgotten that (nor have I forgotten the week I wrote you in for your thoughts on "Greed" & "Magnificent Ambersons" and you gave me a hidden shout-out in a response to another reader's question to "Nashville." Wonderful.
I still hope to make a movie that gets a theatrical released & gets reviewed by you, someday. What's that John Hughes quote? "We'll get there in the end."
It was a good piece in Esquire but it did portray you as more terminal than I ever imagined you. Medical woes aside, you seem like you have your work, your hobbies and a real gem of a wife. A pleasure to read you Eebs.
That picture was startling at first. But there is something very powerful in it: your eyes.
They shine with what looks like a relentlessness...determination? I would like to know what your thoughts were at the time if you remember.
What this picture, ultimately, says to me is that although the flesh may be broken, the spirit is unbreakable. Its an exceptional picture and it has captured something very much worth capturing;
I hope you are proud for it.
The article was touching and brilliantly written. I'm embarrassed to say I had no idea about your condition; I was so used to the pictures from your website (the smiling mugshot, the grizzled 'Your Movie Sucks' cover...) that I paid it no attention.
When I learned of it, it was heartbreaking; you're not only a favorite writer of mine but have opened many doors to me to cinema and ideas I never would have found on my own. But the article, to me, was not a tragedy. Its not about some final bloom or last sunset; its about relentlessness.
I love that there is nothing silent about your silence.
A few of these posts come across as 'goodbye' messages. Certainly not this one. As far as I'm concerned, you're not going anywhere until I've met you and I've shaken your hand (and THAT sir, might...er, be a while what with ticket fares and school and all....)
In fact, I think I'll just end this with that: Don't go anywhere ;)
Cheers, Roger.
Dear Roger,
I grew up watching your show with Gene Siskel.
I couldn't wait until it was Sunday so I can watch you guys go at it about the newest movies of the week.
I have, and will always trust your opinion about film. I think your an amazing person inside and out.
Great, kind souls aren't easy to come by, but you are that and much more.
Looking forward to all your future reviews!
Best always,
Chris A.
My mom bought a VCR from Best Buy in 1995, I think, and was given a trade paperback collection of your movie reviews as a promotional freebie. I read it then and still refer to it now. Underneath my end table are that collection, the 2004 and 2006 editions of your movie yearbooks, a worn 1999 mass paperback of Leonard Maltin's film guide, the 1992 edition of the History of Network Primetime Television Programs and the SNL: The First 20 Years coffee table book.
Hardly a current crop of reference material, but it does help settle the frequent debates between my wife and me about what year a past movie came out or when a certain character debuted or left a certain TV show or which year Robert Blake, Robert Urich and Robert Stack all hosted SNL. She's 38, I'm 32 and our memories don't always match up completely. Particularly since I just learned Robert Stack never hosted SNL.
And when my wife is watching "Project Runway" or "Survivor," I can revisit your takes on old favorites or movies I saw once a decade ago or remind myself about older and newer staples I've been meaning to check out sometime in place of "Project Runway" and "Survivor."
Your articulate love and enthusiasm both for words and the medium of film have had a profound influence on my life for half my life now and will undoubtedly continue on. I found a link to the Esquire article during a routine visit to The Onion AV Club and have spent the last hour reading that and discovering your blog. It was a surprising turn during a night when I was supposed to be fast asleep by now.
PS. I don't feel like I usually write with this many run-on sentences either, by the way.
Roger,
Having read Chris Jones' profile of you in Esquire, I felt the need to post on your blog and tell you how much other journalists admire the job you continue to do.
A great many of us would have packed it in and said -30- to the whole newspaper/media business when faced with the health challenges you have had to deal with.
But by continuing to write and do the things you do better than almost anyone else out there today, you serve as an inspiration.
I hear your voice in your writing, clear as if you're speaking with Gene Siskel in an early 90s episode of your TV show.
Keep writing and I'll keep reading. Because of those words, the balcony will never really be closed.
damn it roger.
who is gonna take your place once you leave.
i said leave. not the other word.
i guess i'll have to start reading mahohla dargis.
i think i'm gonna try and write a movie review.
and just see what happens.
Ebert: You could do a lot worse than Ms. Dargis.
The subject of the Esquire article calls to mind the protagonist in Ikiru. It's a more acceptable thought when I know that you're not months from the end. I think you've built something more substantial than a park for kids, though; you've built a mind that you can live comfortably in and you're always leaving us breadcrumbs in case we want to meet you there.
In that way, you remind me of Carl Sagan, who said he was in love with science, "And when you're in love, you want to tell the world."
Humility aside, you must agree, if only privately, that you are to people as Kane is to movies. (High praise for evolution.)
To paraphrase the great Roger Ebert, you're the good movie that can never run too long.
Roger,
Even before finishing the blog, I needed to say this. What the hell do you mean your visage is not a pretty sight?! It's rather a beautiful sight, made moreso by the person behind the face.
Too often we forget the diversity that is present in the world. Millions are born with birth defects and deformities. Millions more find themselves with such deformities as a result of accidents and disease. Yet, rather than understanding the beauty of this diversity, we often focus on it's differences from the 'norm'.
To hell with that. Your face remains you, no matter how it changes. We all, if fortunate enough to live a long life, age and find our looks much different than our younger selves. This is beauty...the ability to change, adapt, survive; your physical being carries this beauty. So, I salute you, not just for your amazing writing, but also for your physical beauty. So, keep beating the odds....
"Its my happening and it freaks me out!" I've been living by those words for years, darlin'.
Sorry to hear about your illness...Congratulations on hitting the gorgeous wife lottery! & Blessings in all ways.
Love,
Yet another tree in America's big 'ol people forest.
As everyone before me, I was very moved and inspired by the article. But in one of the more dramatic passages of the articles, Roger is angered by the removal of his Tribute to Gene Siskel from this blog. Just to reassure him, the tribute is still up on youtube and video.google.com under "Remembering Gene Siskel." It's posted in 3 parts. These kinds of videos always get removed when you post them on web sites, so if you were to post the youtube videos to this specific blog entry, they would probably once again be removed. But the full tribute is still very much online through youtube or google-video, as is countless siskel and ebert and roeper reviews and fights. There are also countless tributes to siskel and ebert and roeper posted on youtube labeled "fun times with Siskel and ebert." They are montages of hilarious moments from the show. Still better and more entertaining than anything on TV.
The article is beautiful. It really felt true when I read it and I find the open and honest quality of the piece beyond refreshing.
You seem to be at a very good place in your life right now. The struggles of physical illness have a strange way of helping us find our center I think. Your wife sounds like an incredible and lovely woman. I think that you are both very lucky.
I have always enjoyed your work in whatever form it takes and I'm looking forward to more from you. I miss Gene Siskel too.....you guys had a great chemistry. For many years my movie dollars were spent depending on the reviews from the balcony. If we are going to bother to actually go out to the theater to see something now I have to log on and see what you have to say. You are most often spot on with what I enjoy.
Thank you for sharing a glimpse of "where you are" at this time in your life.
My heartfelt best wishes for the future to you Mr. Ebert!
Roger:
"Gasp," right back to you! No, no, no---I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE your home page! It's the first thing I bookmarked when I created a Movies folder; I go to it frequently, for various reasons, including to see if there's a new Journal entry. I just want to be a two-way "Facebook fan," if you will---of you (and the home page and the myriad things available there) AND your wonderful Journal (and, thus, your 4-star commenters). Call me weird, but that's my wish. Both elements (the objective and the personal) of the home page are "you" (I wish there were italics, so I didn't have to use quote marks/caps for emphasis), but I so admire, and always have, your thoughtful and insightful commentaries and remembrances/reveries. So if you or the Sun-Times or whoever makes such decisions could create that needed "Become a Fan of Roger Ebert's Journal" link...
Best, always, Karen
A P.S.: I smiled when I read your comment re where others were sitting in the screening room: "Too close." I think I sit in your seat in Theater 1 at the Film Center (if I can get it)---last row, the last seat on the left as you face the screen. I'll have to check the next time I'm there and lucky enough to get the seat. (Or, logically, the corresponding seat on the right.) Of course, despite a definite preference for seeing the entire screen, the leg room also is excellent; at 5'11" with long legs, that always is a consideration. (Or, have I gotten confused and yours is the seat on the far right facing the screen, last row, in Theater 2? That and the matching seat on the left are, logically, my seats of choice in that theater.) kac
Hi Roger. I wish you understand the motivation for this question because it needs a little ..... anyway, I understand though if you'd refuse to answer because it might seem a little rediculous or irrelevant.
If you had to choose your departure scene from this life, can you pick a scene from a movie? And why?
Thank you.
P.S. I'm a weird guy.
Ebert: "Ikiru" ends on a good note, don't you think?"
DaniEl Ben Freeman, I am a Christian with a strong commitment to the Resurrection and the life hereafter. That was among the most mean-spirited things to which I have ever been privy. All things are being redeemed. There will be a special place in heaven for people like you; everyone else, including Roger I hope, will refer to it as hell and will fastidiously avoid it.
I emailed that great article to friends, telling them that there were all kinds of love stories in it: you and Chaz, you and Roger, you and writing, you and movies. Thanks so much for all the great work you have done, and I look forward to continuing to read it.
Ebert,
Who knows if you will ever read this or if it will mean anything if you do, but this latest blog entry gave me the overwhelming urge to respond.
Despite growing up with excellent parents, the best of teachers, incredibly close friends and having never met you I can say with all honesty that you have influenced my life in a way that no one else has.
If it wasn't for your reviews I wouldn't have started watching films a little more closely in my early teens. If it wasn't for your reviews I wouldn't have started writing about films in my high school years. If it wasn't for your reviews I wouldn't have switched my major from English Literature to Film Studies. And in yet another unfolding of my life, if it wasn't for your blog I wouldn't have as much day-to-day humility as I do or a desire to write as often as you do.
Film criticism is a tough field to make it in and I know that going in (I'm still in my first year of Film Studies at University) but even if it only leads me to a position as "Team Leader" of a McDonalds I am content to say I write for myself and have some aspiration that can link me to you. Still. I'm going to hope it turns out better than that.
Like my father and friends yell at the screen when their favorite [insert sport] team isn't doing so well, I took great pleasure at yelling out and joining the debate as you sparred with Siskel and Roeper after him. Your show spawned its own traditions in my house.
I'm not writing this because I think you're dying (I don't) or as some sort of lingering goodbye at a party in Chicago. I'm saying this because I couldn't get tickets to Ebertfest and even if you live a thousand years and I meet you a thousand times I don't know I'd have the words.
Cass Wall
Ebert: Hope is not lost. Not every passholder attends every screening, and they claim in all these years they've always managed to get the Pass Line in.
Esquire has some of the best writing in American journalism right now. This piece was no exception. It felt true, it rang true. I'm glad to hear it felt true to you, too.
And the photograph of you is one of the most compelling photos I've seen in some time. It does make you want to read the article. And it's quite beautiful.
Thanks for letting Chris Jones write about you; your fans have been given a lovely gift here.
Ebert: Esquire went through a bit of a slump but has come back strong. Arnold Gingrich and Harold Hayes would be proud. There are a few magazines you HAVE to read. A few more of mine: New Yorker, Spectator, Discover, NY Review of Books, MacWorld, and McSweeneys, of course.
Mr. Ebert
I know that it is the vanity of every person to look back at the era of their late teens and think "those were the days my friend". Consider for a moment that the last triple crown winner,the advent of Aids,the proliferation of Stephen King and the rise of Scorcese and the cementing of Speilberg all took place in that decade. You and Gene were the hecklers and the cheer leaders for so many of us. I look at this generation and I consider 9-11 to be a defining moment for them but it sometimes seems that it has left them fearful and resentful of living the pain and the pleasure that is life. Your life is exemplary of someone who uses his own visions, his own sounds, and his own breath to ensure that the "art" of a movie should be considered within the context of its purpose which is simply to tell a tale or as I grew up saying in Newfoundland - "to spin a yarn". Your counsel is welcomed, appreciated and some day far into the future it will be missed.
You are such an inspiration to anyone who's gone toe to toe with the "Big C". I lost my parents to cancer between 1987 and 1996. I've been dealing with it twice again over the last year. It's an opponent who plays no favorites---young or old, a TKO or split decision. You've taken it on by leading with your chin.
However, attitude is everything. You are a prime example of bountiful dignity and insight in response to this most insidious disease. It is so assuring that we can still enjoy your thoughts through your written words.
Many best wishes as you continue to answer the bell...coining a phrase associated with another well-known celebrity whose eloquence has been compromised: "Sting Like a Butterfly, Float Like a Bee".
Roger, all I can say is that it has been a privilege reading your blog entries, and I feel that I've grown close to the inner workings of your mind over the course of the past couple of years or so. You have always written in an interesting and lively manner about films; now you write the same way about life. Thank you for sharing so much with us.
By the way, if you don't care to write an autobiography, at least consider publishing your blog entries as a collection. I look forward to your rice cooker recipe book!
Thank you very much, Roger, for all the things I learn about cinema and about life, everytime I read you. I don't need to hear your voice, because I hear your soul in your writings. reading your blog is like meeting a good friend.
I think you're maybe down on your appearance just a little too much.
When you published those first pictures of what you looked like, a couple of days before your first post-operative public appearance at Ebertfest, I was admittedly shocked. The shock, though, came not from any inherent ugliness, but from a disorienting disconnect between the way I had been perceiving you, and the way you really were. There are myriad ways that one's personality integrates with one's personal appearance, especially when it comes to facial expressions, and you had almost all those cues stripped away from you. But you establish new cues, and the rest of us learn them. When you walked into the room at the UI President's reception, there was a brief illusion of loss of intelligence, simply because you were now literally slack-jawed. But then we established eye contact across the room, and the illusion was blasted away, because no slack-jawed dullard ever had eyes so brimming with intelligence. The contrast actually magnified the physical effect, and it felt like you had far-and-away the most piercingly brilliant gaze I had ever seen.
I was a little shocked again a year or two later, when I had a clear profile view of you for the first time, and saw the enormous gap behind your chin -- a huge hole that has been blasted out of the lower part of your head. But, again, it wasn't inherently ugly; just jarringly different.
Now I know what you look like, and you have completely returned to looking like Roger Ebert. And Roger Ebert is a guy who, at the end of the day, is incapable of being ugly, no matter how strangely different his physical appearance happens to be.
I'm sure you have heard this a million times and will likely hear it a million more, but you are an inspiration for us all. (I just finished reading the Esquire piece.) But that's not why I'm writing.
I do research/fact checking for a living and recently I found a product that I though might help you. It's called the Boogie Board (http://www.myboogieboard.com). It's an LCD whiteboard, basically. It lets you write down a message with a pen, finger, etc., then you can erase it with the press of a button and write something else. I haven't tried it yet (hopefully soon), but it might cut down on the amount of Post-it notes you need. Plus, who doesn't like a new toy?
Keep us the great work. All the best,
Dave
So happy to see you. For so long, your face and voice have been a part of my life. It has been so very strange knowing you were still here but not seeing or hearing you.
But there you are. Beautiful is as beautiful does. And so your are, too.
Be seeing you.
Wow! over 400 comments just on this blog. I guess you might still be relevant. Of course many of us have known that for years.
Roger, I really appreciate that you continue to write... My wife and I.. we trust your voice.
Thank you.
As an aside, I grew upon the near north side in the 60's and 70's. I would see you around, you would give a quick smile... I feel connected
Roger,
I read the article in a dark bedroom, by the glow of a reading light, and your words illuminated the hope of any writer to be remembered and revered. You mention that Chris wasn't a strict eyewitness to the Radio Caroline-fueled session at your keyboard, but I can see that you understand he was recounting that portion of the interview with respect for the greater truth of writing. I can see those fingers of yours that he describes, struggling to keep up with the words inside you. You inspire me to lift up my own craft. I wanted to believe you had a say in who the writer would be with whom you'd share your life, but maybe Esquire doesn't work that way -- or you respect them enough to trust their judgment in choosing Chris. You're doing the best writing of your life, and it's a genuine honor to see you sharing that life with all of us.
You came across strong and resilient. Keep writing. Poor grad students have neither the time nor the money to figure out which movies to watch on their own.
Fine piece. It also makes me excited to catch up on some of the journal entries i've been missing lately. I received a link to the article from a good friend of mine this morning who knows how big a fan I am... But i'm trying Radio Caroline for the first time. Carole King and The Cure. Very nice. I typically go with the BBC streams, Radio 6 primarily, but Radio 1 when the really good shows are on.
Ebert: I like that Radio Caroline has real human deejays who are on live. I stream it through iTunes but you can just go to their website. Great songs.
I haven't read the Esquire piece yet, but looking forward to tracking down a copy. And while I've never met you, Roger, I don't need to read that or anything else to know you're pure class. I hope you can keep writing and enjoying it for as long as possible.
"On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero"- Michael "Chuck" Palahniuk-FIGHT CLUB
I don’t forward this quote to be depressing but to affirm that on a grand scale we are all “dying in increments” and we are all indeed working with “the time we have left”.
FYI, Mr. Ebert I absolutely adore your reviews, but I would debate you any day of the week on the excellence of FIGHT CLUB, I am quite the living room film scholar!
SB
(By the way I was just kidding about the debate, everybody knows a debate with Ebert is a losing battle:)
Chris Jones's article was tremendous, but you deserve even better. And even as I rail at and curse them, I've come to see your wounds and the erasure of your audible voice as a kind of cosmic trade-off: is it really fair for someone who has written so poignantly and insightfully and humorously and grandly for so many years and whose body of work will forever render puny his troubles to also have the physical gift of speech? Seems almost greedy. All the best. You have always been an inspiration to me.
Dear Roger,
Thank you for writing so eloquently, fairly and beautifully. I have been reading your reviews for years. (I never was a TV watcher, so I honestly haven't seen many of your TV shows.) You have helped me get an understanding of what art should and should not do, and you have helped me understand how many different disciplines (acting, directing, etc.) go into the making of a good movie. This, for me, was a grand education, and I thank you for it.
Fondly,
Jeff Cubeta
I've been Roger & Ebert since I was a kid. In many ways it fueled my passion for film before I even started watching movies. I loved the discourse and often saw the show without having even seen one of the film. It was always entertaining in its own right. When in the mid 90s I discovered I loved watching film, good ones that Ebert and Siskel recommended. I became a film snob thanks to you guys.
Gene leaving was heart breaking. It was shortly after he made Babe Pig in the City his best film of 1998. I choice I whole heartedly agreed with at the time and still do to this day.
Ebert stuck around and did a lot of great things with the show after that. Bringing in interesting new opinions. No it wasn't the same greatness but it still had 50% of the equation and goodness.
I'm so glad to see Roger is a true warrior, a fighter, not going gentle into the good night. And most of all he's making 100% of it count and he knows it. And he knows he has to. If you are breathing life is good. Most of us don't realize this, we get caught up in our daily dramas, but it's the truth.
Thank you Roger for being such an inspiration from early on until this current moment. You greatness lives on and will never be gone.
Ryan
Dear Roger,
I guess I didn't know about your surgeries for cancer until I saw a brief mention in the LA Times the other day. It must have come up because of the Esquire piece.
Today I went to your website, as I often do, to see what you thought of a movie. My husband was refusing to see Shutter Island after seeing its ad. "It's a horror film," he said. "But I like the author," I said. "We'll see what Ebert says," he said, and that settled that.
So I came looking to see what you had to say about Shutter Island, and then I saw the box to the right with the title "Roger Ebert's Last Words" and I almost freaked out. I'm so relieved that you are still here!
We started watching you when you and Gene Siskel were on PBS. When you weren't writing reviews there for awhile, we weren't seeing many movies (we didn't trust the other reviewers). We SO appreciate the work you do.
God bless you and your wife. May you share many more years together.
All the best,
Ginger Goodell
I'm certainly not going to say I know you, but thanks to that great Esquire profile, I feel like I know you a little bit better. That's good enough for me.
if steven hawking weren't a paraplegic there's a chance he might just be some physicist instead of Steven Hawking. There's something to be said for the focus a handicap can bring. and of course, mastry comes with time and often hardship. it's no surprise if you're "at the top of your game" as someone already mentioned.
anyway, no pity for badasses.
also i'm grudgingly considering getting twitter now. all the cool kids are doing it!
Oh, Roger, this is the hardest piece of yours I've ever read. Why can't you just stay my hero? Why do you have to be so dang human?
I once saw a speech from a guy who got more or less exploded in Vietnam and was horribly burned and disfigured. When he shipped back home and saw (and was seen by) his wife, he said, "I'm sorry , honey".
"Why", she asked.
"Because I can never look good for you again."
"Oh honey, " his wise wife replied, "You were never that good looking to begin with."
These shells, they fall apart. We value symmetry. We hold a picture of "normal" in our minds, we measure ourselves against it. We never ever like what we see. I look over at my beautiful wife day after day, and I still don't get it. How the hell did I outpunt my coverage that deeply?
My wise old grandfather used to say, "we'll all look the same in a hundred years." In the meantime, can you understand how to me, that picture is so honest and so human, that it's more beautiful than one of a model? I bet you could if it was of someone else.
Openness, humanity, frailty, honesty: these things are beautiful in ways that rugged jaw lines can never even begin to comprehend.
It's a wonderful picture. Because it says something about the man. Compare it with any retouched and airbrushed picture of a super model which caricatures how humans really look, even then super-model whose picture is being taken. Do that honestly, then tell me who's really sick.
Best always. God Bless.
"A resentment is allowing somebody to live rent-free in your head." Too good.
Relieved that I'm not the only one who's noticed and said so, so I'll put it pithier (I hope): that photo makes you look like the very caricature of a very lovable man.
You get more love-mail than anybody I've seen, and the thing is, every line of every expression of love for you rings authentic. Nobody has to tell you that; they can just as easily cuss you out -- or warn you against "pimping for Satan," as one poster has done.
That's what true lovable is, I think.
Good to find out what you are up to. I still miss Gene, even after all these years. Movies were just movies until I started listening to you two years ago. My parents turned me on to their
"old" movies; Gable, Flynn, Marx Brothers, etc and now I find myself turning my kids on to "old"
movies: Brando, Newman, Pacino. So thats your legacy and not a bad one at that! THANKS!!!!
Roger,
Having been a long time admirer of your work, I was aware of your condition as it was reported in the news outlets. That being said, I was jolted when I turned the page in Esquire and saw the photo accompanying the profile article. My first reaction was sympathy; however, as I read the profile, my sympathy waned. Certainly you have been dealt a difficult situation, but then, many if not most people in life face difficult situations; it is the nature of life. What struck me really was what a lucky man you are. You have work for which you have unwavering passion. You have the love of a strong and supportive partner. You are respected for your work as well as your character and integrity. You are life affirming Mr. Ebert.
Dear Roger, the power of that photo is not in the jaw, it's in your eyes. You shouldn't shy away from mirrors, there is pride in scars and in dark times that, if your stare is any indication, you have overcome.
What a wonderful comments page. As many people might have, I had the two same reactions - "wow!" and then "OK, I can deal with that". It was like hearing your voice on the Dark City DVD - I kept checking to see if I was on the right track (figuratively and literally). I don't think you need any false encouragement - as Hemingway wrote in the Garden of Eden, "don't give me that stuff they feed the troops" - but it's certainly been a long, good ride, and while I hope that it doesn't end any time soon, your writing has certainly made the ride more enjoyable for me and millions of others. Yours in service, Dewane
I can hardly read either the Esquire piece or your response without getting all teary, and that's something that never happens to me (outside of the occasional tearjerker movie). I've been watching you and reading your reviews ever since you and Siskel started on Sneak Previews on PBS, way back when. You're one of the biggest influences I've had on my movie-going and thinking about films and I know you're hearing that from a lot of people these days, but it's really true. I've lost track of how many conversations about movies I've had that started, "Well, Roger Ebert thought..." Even when I've disagreed with your reviews (Spawn is one that immediately comes to mind--still not sure where your 4-star review came from), I've always been able to see your thinking about a film and how you came to your conclusions. I like that you've expanded your writing to touch on other things lately (particularly the healthcare debate)--you're one of the clearest and most straightforward arguers I've ever come across. I can only hope you're as comfortable as possible and enjoying your life as much as possible. Thank you for everything you've give us (me).
There are so many comments that I don't know whether you'll read this, Mr. Ebert. I want to express my gratitude to you and Mr. Jones for the article. Within it, I found a bit of hope. My daughter has a developmental issue that renders her mostly incapable of coherent speech. The text-to-speech app described in the article could be a wonderfully effective tool for her to communicate. She's only 3 right now and we have other avenues to try over the next few years, but that technology could end up being a primary path to interact with people in her daily life. And so now I have more research to do and something new to learn about, which is never a bad thing. Thanks again, and I wish you much joy and happiness.
Through the Esquire article I have discovered your blog. Both the article and your blog are beautifully written.
I dig your style, Dude. Yes, something like that. From that movie The Big Lebowski. I dig your writing. I really appreciate it, and I thank you for your great contributions. You may think them small, even if any, but that's b/c you're humble. And that's one of the reasons I dig you and your style. By the way, is the word "dig" out of style. It seems like a word from an era I'm not from (I'll be turning 26 next month).
Anyhow, the topic or subject of dying... I'd like to make a comment on that subject on this blog's forum, but I feel I cannot speak as well as others, and especially you, Mr Ebert. All I can say, however, is I've had a best friend of mine die, my aunt. She was diabetic and died young. Anyway, we lived at the movies together, so to speak. And that's a line from the late and great poet Jim Carroll. I'm not sure what that means. I just know life is weird.
I can also say I'm in good health and have, stupidly, wanted to die. I've depression/anxiety...all of the above. In addition, I'm an active alcoholic/addict (which are obviously the same: aa/na). Resentment is the #1 offender. (Isn't that a song about being the lonliest #?) Puns aside, I couldn't agree w/ that concept ever more...if that makes sense. My writing's shaky, along with my nerves via the dt's.
To quit rambling, the subject I guess really isn't dying. At least now that I think about it. Living, yeah...that's it. And I don't believe in god (like the lowercase). I just believe in me, to steal again (this time from John Lennon). Ah, a hedonist I am. But I'm learning to think of others. And, you may not know it, Mr Ebert, but in a way you've helped me. Now, I'm going to go find my copy of Rimbaud's "A Season in Hell." Maybe ironic?
Carpe diem, friend!
Wonderfully moving article in Esquire.
Like others, the removal of your Siskel memorial from Youtube made me angry.
It's all part of our lawyer-driven DMCA society with perpetual copyright and "Brands" everywhere.
I hope this piece occasions a change of heart among the enraged Teabaggers on Breitbart. In their callous fury to defend Sarah Palin from your tweets, there was as much cruelty directed at your health as there was confusion as to what your work entails.
I guess none of them had “The Great Movies” on the coffee table, because this theme that kept popping up was that they could do your job themselves if supplied with a stack of VHS tapes. One joker sneered that your “Fargo" review got “all over-intellectual” about the Mike Namagita buffet scene, missing the point that it was “just supposed to be funny."
I posted, “Ebert pointed out that the scene makes Marge question whether she can trust Jerry. What’s so over-intellectual about that?” Got deleted though.
I would like to email Mr. Ebert since I too have a droopy face as a result of T4 Squamous Cell Carcinoma.
I have a similar mindset to food as well. I wrote Mr. Grant Achatz and we compared notes. Mr. Achatz being a world famous chef cooks by smell.
It is important to be out in the public, to sit at the table whilst others engulf that sandwich and drink that cream soda.
Though I can no longer eat I developed a more passionate liking to cooking (I used to hate to cook). I will cook for you!
I also am developing a device to wet the mouth since the salivary glands are no longer salivating.
If you have a minute or two, please drop me an email.
I was very moved by the article. Thank you Roger for modeling living through "old age and sickness" (two of the four universal sufferings the Buddha delineated) with such dignity and grace. Thank you for sharing this part of your life journey with all of us - especially in this culture at this time when these things are so often hidden by celebrities from public view and repressed by the culture at large.
I just premiered my new feature doc JOURNEY FROM ZANSKAR at the Boulder and Big Sky festivals. Your article convinces me that you might most appreciate this film now - at this time and place in your life. http://journeyfromzanskar.com/default.asp Can I send it to you at the Sun-Times? I am confident it will move and inspire you, maybe not as much as HOOP DREAMS but close!
with love and respect,
Roger,
I was in a hurry yesterday after reading your moving piece and so sent you a short post that read, "You're beautiful, man." This morning I realized you might take my remark to be sarcastic and was horrified at the thought. Please believe that was not my intention at all. What I meant was I see the beauty of your spirit in your eyes, hear it in your written words, a spirit that all the surgery, pain and loss has not diminished. If anything, I think that your wonder at the world and your joy at being part of it has increased the last few years. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I get an increasing impression of hope in your writing in the past few months. Once again, please forgive me if I upset you.
We all die in increments and live incrementally. Although the second law of thermodynamics seems to stall our bodies in middle years, we still can move towards a crescendo (gather to a greatness.) I think that observation would apply to the story told about you in Esquire. It would also apply to Hopkin's poem God's Granduer. There is a gap between body and spirit. It is precisely this more, this remainder, this surplus, that fires the imagination of dualists and enlivens the faith in this monist who longs for the reconciliation that all flesh will see together.
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs --
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
I was moved by the article. Through your writing, Roger, you have been an inspiraton to me ever since my days in journalism school in Urbana-Champaign (Class of '75). It would have been hard (if not impossible!) to "miss" the fact that you were an alum...and the source of great pride around Greg Hall and for the College of Communication -- faculty and students alike. My first memory of your writing was your review of American Graffiti. I went back and read it again this morning. It still stands up. Its tone is so very intimate; having been a resident of the U-C community for six years, including grad school, I can readily relate to your cruising by the Princess Theater and stopping in at Steak 'n Shake; at the same time, though, you make the review about so much more than the film itself or your personal memories of youth. A beautiful piece. I've been a fan ever since...so much so, that my home library contains more of your books than those of any other author. (Yes, I actually counted them this morning...) Because the article is so candid in its depiction of the challenges you've faced -- and continue to face -- a reader can begin to appreciate what you and Chaz have had to deal with these last several years. Once again, however, you are an inspiration -- but now for how you live life, your determination to overcome adversity and to persevere. While none of us can know what challenges life may bring our way, I believe that how we respond to these challenges says a lot. You and Chaz set a splendid example...
All the best,
Ross Miller
After reading the comments here, I was overcome with morbid curiosity and detoured briefly to Breitbart's Big Hollywood, where you've recently come under considerable fire for what you've been Tweeting about Mrs. Palin. I was wondering if they had their own updates on the Esquire piece. So far, nothing - just as well, I suppose, given the unadulterated venom that the Breities are spewing just about the Palin stuff.
Here's the odd part: I looked up that picture of Palin's bracelet. It looks to me like an engraved bracelet, gold or silver, the kind which at an angle to light would photograph black. In other words... this one time, the Right appears to be right, and in this isolated instance, you ought to retract. (If you already have, please disregard this notice.)(Not that the more rabid Breities will take any heed and dial down their vitriol.)
Enough of that. Back to the piece.
As disfigurements go, yours isn't so bad. I recall the story of Bill Tuttle, the 50s-60s ballplayer whose baseball cards always showed him with a massive chaw of 'baccy ballooning out of one cheek. In his later years, Tuttle went public with the results of his chewing - half his face appeared to have caved in from removal of cancerous growths. The idea was to scare kids off cut-plug, but even adults (like me) were given pause by the sight.
These days, the soap All My Children features an actor who was disfigured during his service in the Middle East - and his character is having a career and a romance.
As to your own New Look: I wonder how many readers caught a too-quick glance at the Picture and thought you were doing a belated tribute to Arnold Stang?
Okay, I'm being impertinent here - such is my way of handling things like this. My thought was that you might enjoy a little treacle-cutting amid all the encomiums.
Anyway, just keep writing and hanging by your thumbs (you already have work).
And remember - it's milder... much milder.
Thanks Roger. Thanks for everything. Thanks for the good the bad & the ugly. For the unabashed courage to tell us that the latest offering from Paramount or whomever, that cost a few hundred million dollars - is a piece of unadulterated crap. "Save your money." is what I hear you saying. And also for the courage to state publicly that films which portray oppression, homophobia, racism as "bad" things - are worth seeing. That those films might have something to teach us. Which is perhaps the highest level to which all good film can aspire. I've come to trust your film reviews above all other contributors. Because I know I'll always get one thing from you - the honest truth. A rare commodity in today's media at times.
Keep up the good work Rodge. :-)
By the way - I am one of the rarified group that paid to see the film "Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls" back in the early 70's. I consider this a proud distinction.
Dear Roger,
This is the first time I have participated in a blog but I came across the Esquire article which led me to your forum and felt compelled to write. For many years "Siskel and Ebert" was an essential ingredient of our family TV diet. One day my son, in his late teens, announced that he had emailed you to disagree with one of your reviews. You took his comments seriously and sent a thoughtful reply that essentially said you would have to "agree to disagree". I know that my son was enormously proud that someone as important as Roger Ebert would not only make the effort to respond but also to take his ideas seriously. My son is now a successful studio director in his mid thirties. I believe that your kind act those many years ago helped inspire him to "follow his bliss".
Sincere thanks from a grateful father and a longtime fan.
I need to get online more often. I had just been wondering how you were doing Roger, been a fan as long as I can remember. Hardly ever missed a show when it was the real deal, (Have boycotted it ever since Disney destroyed your sacred place.) Keep writing, your one of the reasons that I do!
Thanks for sharing your thoughts with the world.
Dear Roger,
What a beautiful soul you have. You are a good person, a thoughtful and rational person, and I cannot even imagine what you and Chaz have been going through all these years involving your health.
My mother died recently--very suddenly and unexpectedly, actually. This situation has had me thinking about the nature of life and death, the quality of our lives, and how we are all handed out various experiences to learn and grow through. I've been thinking about the nature of a soul, spirit, heart, etc...Our life attitudes and how people view situations in different ways and are able to work through them.
I cannot imagine what you have been through--I am sure you have had a range of emotions and attitudes and points of view over time. I might have found myself feeling bitter or angry or upset, depending on the situation. I've certainly had a range of emotions concerning the sudden death of my mother. Your spirit, your heart, your compassion and kindness and maturity and integrity are so strong, and I really admire that. When I look at the pictures of you published in Esquire, and read what all you think and feel on this topic, I see and hear a person who truly has the most brilliant spirit, soul, heart--whatever you want to call it. You do have true beauty. You are a real person, full of substance. You seem quite humble, so I imagine you might pooh-pooh those sorts of notions from fans. Chaz already knows what a good person you are. (She has a strong spirit as well!) Your readers know that too.
I wish you much luck in your journey, and a life of love and happiness,
Melissa
Such a wonderful bit of serendipity, your blog.
Akin to breaking bread with my heart's roommate. Thanks.
There are three people that have inspired me completely and fully in regards to writing and filmmaking:
1) Steven Speilberg
2) Akira Kurosawa
3) You
How funny it is, that I didn't know of the second until I knew of the third. You have been my guiding light illuminating the screen of everything I aspire to be. I hope the frames of my life are as lovingly composed as yours. As long as I have "Grave of the Fireflies", "Citizen Kane" and "Floating Weeds", you will continue to inspire me until the end of time, and beyond.
P.S. - I just realized the article I am writing about this week deals with Spirited Away and Studio Ghibli - something I NEVER would have known if you didn't champion it!
Dear Roger,
My heart liked to burst with aching towards the final section of the Esquire interview over those deleted videos. The sad thing is, if you didn't post them in Youtube yourself (which I believe is where they came from, if memory serves me), then it's left up to chance for however long they would be available. I've learned the hard way myself over the years for online comments I've posted with videos embedded in. I can go back to visit those pages I wrote so many months or years ago, and I'd be surprised if half of those videos were still active. It's the nature of the internet beast, unfortunately.
I've been absent from visiting your website for quite a few weeks now. I think I posted something that you chose not to put up in here, and since I never learned why or whatfor, I began to feel that maybe I was overstaying my welcome with my posts to your blogs, and simply stopped.
Discouragement is a weakness of mine. However, when I came across your Esquire article, I read it, learning much more than I realized there was to learn about you.
This in turn was followed by a gentle nudging in my gut to return to your blog to see what's up, and alas, here's your response to the other side of that Esquire article. As always, I enjoyed it immensely.
In November 8 of last year, I was baptized at my local church after accepting Jesus Christ as Lord of my life. What made the moment rather odd was how I got to that point in life, since God revealed to me that it wasn't about what I knew of Him after so many years of church-going. That was not what led me to baptism. It's what I still didn't know about Him. I still had much to learn. It wasn't about me getting it. And touching on what that article said, it was never about me "finding" God. Instead, He found me.
This is what I believe, (and you are more than welcome to never post this online and hit the delete key. I'm not concerned with using this platform for attention. Lord knows I don't have enough of a self-esteem to think of myself that way): before the earth was made, Jesus Christ thought of creating you. As His creation, He desired the best for you, and put you on earth through the means you arrived, through the swirling branches of humanity. The way you feel, the way you think, speak or write God designed in a fascinating way in you. Now what you did with it all was eventually up to you.
But it would behoove me to not see the signs that for all the years of your life, God has been calling you, Roger. I see it in most of your blogs, or your reviews, or your life. The signs, gentle and unassuming as they may be, were always there. Whether they were well-intentioned, or terribly misguided, somehow along the way, the message of being called was still there, gently pulsing on like a heartbeat. God is calling you, Roger. You can wrap yourself in all the things you love, and it still cannot add up to the love God has given you through His Son, Jesus Christ.
Now, I hope that last statement did not offend. As I understand, you have a great affinity for many of the things you've surrounded yourself with. But God isn't interested in possessions, prizes, conclusions or philosophies, He just wants time with you. To see how you are, coming from you. Granted, God is all-knowing. I get that. But his omniscience never negates the need to talk to Him. He wants to hear from you.
Whatever level of atheism you've come to hold within yourself, it cannot be for the same reasons others choose not to believe. Atheists today talk down to severe condescension the atheism of C.S. Lewis, saying it was founded on false information, or with misinformation that doesn't exist today. I find that in spite of the many reasons people have for not believing in God, God remains constant throughout.
There are more good things God wants to share with you that go well beyond an acceptance of circumstances for any individual. The joy you spoke of holds truth in it, but the ability to drum it up is rather sparse lately for so many.
However, for those that believe, there is a joy that wells up in spite of all circumstances. There is a real joy that comes from a loving God that is bigger than us homo sapiens.
There is a God that wants to reach out to you, with love, faith, gentleness, kindness, goodness, peace, patience, long-suffering, and joy. He wants you to see the greater picture you are a part of.
I'm not in the habit of quoting scripture in the comments field (and maybe I should!). Please look over these words carefully.
Romans 5 (King James Version)
1Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ:
2By whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.
3And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;
4And patience, experience; and experience, hope:
5And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.
6For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.
7For scarcely for a righteous man will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.
8But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
9Much more then, being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him.
10For if, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life.
11And not only so, but we also joy in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the atonement.
Please consider these words. God is watching to see your response. He will answer whatever questions you have, however He will choose to answer.
God Bless You Roger
Sincerely,
John Alvarez
P.S. - And oh yes, may you be truly blessed with God, not just by Him.
Just read the Esquire article; knew you'd been sick, of course, but did not know the extent, mostly because I religiously stay away from celebrity news (sorry, but someone who was on TV as long as RE is considered a celebrity).
The words you wrote about dying were the most beautiful and cut-through-the-BS that I have ever read. I am an early-40's Buddhist who meditates daily, frequently on the subject of my own death, but today you I received enlightenment that was both unexpected and most welcome, and for that I thank you.
I also wanted to share my favorite Gene Siskel moment with you: watching your show in college with my buddies/housemates as you reviewed "Harlem Nights" (a movie I never wasted one minute on, so thank you for that and your other reviews, as well). As I recall, you went first, and after your bit, Siskel led off with "Well, I was appalled by this movie." To this day, my friends and I still use that line whenever the appropriate situation arises. Bless you, Gene and bless you, Roger. Stay centered.
Dear Roger,
I've enjoyed your movie reviews, books, blog and have seen films I would have never known if not for you. I became a life-long fan while sitting in your classroom at city college in 1968, you taught english, and you were an excellent teacher, but it was your humor and insight of actors that truly filled your classroom with love and laughter. You now speak through your written word, and we still hear your voice loud and clear.
Peace,
Irwin Klinger
Arlington, VA
Dear Roger,
You are my hero. I still remember the first time I watched your show and you reviewed "Heart of Darkness" I had never heard cinema discussed with such cultured taste, and insight. I was hooked from that point on and watched your show religiously. Even when my parents cancelled the cable to rid me of distractions from school, I would make my girlfriend stay up late and watch the show. I would get upset with her if she didn't remember every detail of what you said. I remember going to a film's opening on a Friday night and trying to predict what the result would be on your Sunday show "Siskel will give thumbs down but Ebert will like it". I was always wrong. The thing is the show and the reviews taught me how to watch movies and get the most out of them. I have always loved movies since I was a kid. I remember riding my bike as a 9 year old to the video store to rent Casablanca, because everyone still referenced this black & white film. I had to see what the fuss was about. I would ask my Dad (who gave me the movie bug) what else do I have to see??? He would say "Anything by Hitchcock" I would come home with Rebecca.
I sadly remember when Siskel was sick and he would review films by phone from the hospital. "Keep my chair warm Roger" those words still haunt me.
I have followed you on your journey and I have always hoped for the best outcome for you. I have read all of your books, they stand proudly on my bookshelf resilient. I have even kept the pocket guide in my pocket. I visit your site everyday with the thrill I might get to read another review. I have read all of your journal entries, and they stay with me. I have never commented because I was too insecure and intimated by how eloquently you write and the intelligence dripping from the screen. My ultimate dream was to make a film and get "two entusastic thumbs up!" I would have been in heaven.
After reading the Esquire article, and your current entry I felt now is the time for me to share with you how much of my life has been enriched by your love for movies, and life. It is time for full disclosure because you have shared so much with all of us. You are my friend Roger, you are my hero.
Ahmad
P.S. I'm still working on the script
Dear Roger,
So many times after reading one of your columns I have said to myself, “This time I will write to thank him.” But then at least 25 other people articulate my response more elegantly, eloquently, and accurately than I ever could, and it seems a waste of your time to send a message consisting of nothing more, in essence, than “What they said.” Today, however, I’ve just read the Esquire piece, your response, and many wonderful comments, and I am finally writing to say...“What they said.” I laughed and cried; I was saddened and gladdened and inspired and humbled; and I was reminded yet again that there really are silver linings. Thank you for sharing your intellect and your heart and your ego (and I mean that as a compliment!) with such confidence and candor. Rest assured, you are bringing joy.
(Actually I did write to you once before, in response to your witty and playful review of Garfield: A Tale of Two Kitties. When I read that I knew that you are not only brilliant—you’re special!)
Warmest regards to you and Chaz, who is equally inspiring—
Karen B.
To one of the finest minds in the country nay, the world, I salute you.
Isn't the internet a wonderful thing? You have the ability to reach out and touch so many people now. If only everyone in the country could have access to this amazing technology maybe enlightenment would follow...maybe not though, some old saying about horses drinking water comes to mind.
The picture of you isn't bad, I had an uncle who had throat cancer back in the 60's, what a mess they made of him! I don't see your face anyway, I see your mind and it is beautiful and brilliant.
I am a fan forever Roger.
I thought the article was a good one - and I appreciate your response to it even more. I grew up watching your show with my mother; we bonded over old Hollywood pictures and Siskel and Ebert - and I really feel that your love of movies inspired my love of films. I visit your blog regularly, and find myself often sharing posts on Facebook. You always make me think and more often than not chuckle at my desk.
I just wanted to let you know that you've made a real contribution in the world and I think of you and wish you well. And it sounds like Chaz is a real wise woman!
Sincerely,
Edith Bolton
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I read Chris Jones's interview with you, and I am so thankful that I did. It opened my eyes to your work, which I have only just begun to read, which should be considered a national treasure. You are a national treasure!
Also, I wanted to say that the openness, honesty, and raw truth that was present in the interview is truly appreciated. It seems that you had many very personal facts, conversations, and details exposed in this interview. I am thankful for the article's fearlessness and its embrace of the truth, both good and bad. It has inspired me and moved me.
Thanks for your bravery and your work. You are an incredible human being!
Sincerely,
Claire
I work as an EMT, and I have seen people in various stages before and after death. I can say with fair certainty that there is no dignity in death. And since most people I watch die do so screaming and kicking and calling to their deities, I can also say with fair certainty that being religious doesn't necessarily make it any easier.
But there were always those few people who, while they didn't quite seem happy about it, accepted death with grace. I can only hope that one day I will learn their secrets before I have to face the spectre of death, so I can live my life without fear of it. Thank you, Mr. Ebert, for attempting to educate us.
It's becoming a persistent attribute of The Roger Ebert™ Brand that your condition gives a secret wisdom that most people lack. I see it shining through in what you write, and what's written about you. Are you okay with this? Do you agree that it's true? Do you think you could distill it into a simple form for the rest of us to study?
Keep writing, and thanks!
Rob
Although they are long gone, I remember the Lily Ponds. Do you? I lived up the street from them.
Ebert: In Urbana? Ah, yes.
Growing up I’ve always had low self-esteem. There were even periods of my life when the pain would be almost unbearable to the point of not going out at all. None of this had to do with physical appearance or adolescent awkwardness but instead a feeling of inadequacy. I would try to avoid girls (I’m a guy so naturally I’d like to think I like women). As a kid this had more to do with an embarrassment of not being good enough for them more than it was an all out fear of women in general. I suppose as people we all feel socially awkward or inadequate in some way, whether it is with a job, relationships or leadership positions.
I am an actor so naturally I’m a bit insane. I’m playing a small role in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. It’s a humble production near my home town nonetheless but a decent one. It has succeeded in bringing out feelings in me which I forgot I had. His play among other things is about regret, appreciating “life” and the love of our lives. However, it is also about things far more innate and deeper; living life, understanding love and living rather than regretting to live. As a result I’ve tried to ‘look’ more closely at those who are in my life; those such as my parents and close friends, who are probably more familiar with the features of my face and the quirks of my personality than I’d like to believe that I am.
Throughout my live I have tried to appreciate the little things, something perhaps people in hapless situations fail to grasp (usually because they’re too busy suffering to appreciate that). That’s not their fault obviously, you and I should be so lucky. I do not know a whole lot about nothing. Like most I am perhaps oblivious to the fact that other people might enjoy subjects that I know not of; that my knowledge and commitment to condone god and faith rivals that of my innate potential to condemn him (or her). I do not speak for the weary or the weatherworn, their views are different from one so unseasoned (that is, in certain things.). I have been places in the world though I haven’t felt I’ve ‘been’ all the time. Indeed, the folks you spend it with are more important than what café you sat in. In the information age most of that charm of travel has been erased. You don’t have to travel so far to see people who are so different from you.
I realize that I am not perfect by any means. In fact, far from it, I am terrified of the little things sometimes. Meeting someone new, talking in a public place. Getting up enough courage to succeed in humble journeys like new job interviews, new ventures or new horizons. As a people we should also strive to better ourselves, everyday perhaps in the smallest of increments. So small that they cannot easily be seen, perhaps not even from those like ourselves. We seem to live in a society where a number of people tend to talk too much rather than listen more. We seek an end result, rather than enjoy a journey.
We parade over every minute detail, oblivious to the fact that we may be missing out on something more important. Perhaps the thought of something new and unknown is what scares us most. All of that is o.k. and should not be viewed as a kind of burden or test. After all, we are not gods onto ourselves. I’ve never put much stock in that kind of stuff, those who disagree will disagree. Taking a breath in the morning can be a challenge for some, a bearing of a cross, a crux, a journey; perhaps nothing important at all. Some say life is a gift. Is life a gift? Well, it’s certainly something.
I had the pleasure of seeing one of the great actors of our generation, Mr. Tom Hanks. Seeing him I was struck by how we don’t really take the time to really know someone; or moreover, have the genuine opportunity to really get to know them. Perhaps we never really do ‘know’ people. What we do know of them is based on a guise, a show they put on for us. Few let us in with the level of intimate power that visits them in their dreams. Yes, few have that privilege. And make no mistake; it is a privilege to know those feeling.
Someone once said: Don’t try to be a great man, just try to be a man. Good advice I say.
-“I have been and always shall be your friend… Live long and prosper.” (Pretty corny, but it works for me).
Mr. Ebert,
I met you once in the spring of 2002 on the Ebert and Roeper film festival at sea. I regret not trying to talk to you personally, but I have followed you to this day, and am trying to do my own reviews and be noticed as well. You are my inspiration, sir, and my thumb is always up to you.
The carved inscription above the main entrance of the St. Louis Art Museum reads "Art Still Has Truth. Take Refuge There." The best prose, including the Esquire article, leads us to the same place.
Like very many people, I think the article is a very good one. Perhaps it increases readers' comprehension of you. I am not alone in feeling great admiration for both your and your wife's strength in fighting on where many would give up. All in all, this is only a small factor. You were an extremely talented and perceptive reviewer and essayist more than forty years ago, grew into an even better one, and have remained so. As your body has become an obstacle, your craft has not flagged. It is only through this that we as strangers have a connection with you; Anything else is voyeurism or presumptuousness.
Reading the lede to the Esquire piece took me back a long time, to a day in 1976 at the Lake Street Screening Room. A number of us, including Roger and Gene, were gathered to watch a screening of Richard Lester's haunting and romantic "Robin and Marian." The last scene - elegiac and a sad tribute to youth gone by - had a deep impact on many in the room. I rememeber so clearly hearing sniffling from quite a few people in that small theater that day. As the closing credits came to an end, A voice called out in the dark: "Please don't turn up the lights yet!" A plead for people still fumbling for kleenex. I'm pretty sure it was Roger, whose writing to this day reflects so eloquently and tenderly on the passing of our days.
I grew up watching your show. I don't remember watching Siskel too much because he died when I had just about become a teenager. But I did watch you and Roepert (I know i dispelled his name oh well). I will always remember you as you were on TV. Not as that photograph. I think all of your fans have a certain image of you that does not change over the years.
We will all remember you the way we want to remember you.
I'd been wanting, as an old Sun Times buddy, to "see" you for ages. Almost made it one summer--my daughter REALLY wanted to meet you--but this article explains why that didn't happen.
So now, in a way, I have. And now I also know that you really haven't "changed." You've always been the best writer I know. And one of the most amazing human beings I know, too. Couldn't be prouder to call you a friend. Couldn't be happier that this particular article lets everyone know why.
Good to "see" you, my old friend--and as someone else said, I can "hear" you, too. Whenever I want. Right here.
Ebert: Cynthia, when our desks faced each other in the features department, I thought more or less daily that you had the most marvelous speaking voice.
That was beautiful, that part where it says you and Chaz spend a lot time together just sharing each other's without speaking. I know that zen-like feeling. I also got a little teary-eyed at the part where Chaz makes you go out walking and then cheers you on.
I used to live in Chicago and had the good fortune to take a film class with you around '93/'94. The subject was the works of John Huston. It was around this time of year because you passed out Oscar ballots and let us participate in a class contest. You showed us so much; I showed you how Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan was based on Moby Dick, a fact I (and you) didn't know until you showed us Huston's Moby Dick. Imagine my joy when you brought in the laser disk of Khan the next week to show the class that I was correct.
I have watched your show, purchased your books, read your reviews and checked out your blog. When asked why I like you, I point to two reviews/articles that I remember. One was about the extra seconds added to Basic Instinct, your enthusiasm at going back to see what these extra seconds were and your wife's comments about it. The second was your dislike for The Natural, a movie I so enjoy and yet I could see your point completely about the "god-man". You're just honest. You like what you like, you tell it like it is and it never comes off as snooty or high-brow.
I can't wait to read the Esquire article. Your comments here about it are why I love your work. You're just honest. Thank you for staying you.
(typo; forgot the word time)
That was beautiful, that part where it says you and Chaz spend a lot time together just sharing each other's time without speaking. I know that zen-like feeling. I also got a little teary-eyed at the part where Chaz makes you go out walking and then cheers you on.
About the "rent-free" part:
I think we all kind of just really see only a little 1-inch space really clearly; kind of a little circle that's REALLY in focus. The rest our brain processes an image, but all surrounding that area, we aren't really focusing on it. Look all around us; there's so much to take in; are we really focusing on every little thing? No, and I would argue it's only about a little 1-inch space. That means that if we were standing far enough away from you, THEN we would be really focusing on your whole face (probably like 30 feet away, but how often do you talk to someone from that far away?). If someone is talking to you close-up, they are really only focusing on that 1-inch space , and your eyes would probably fill that entire space. Just a thought on some of the unconscious processes I don't think we're aware of.
Also, meaning doesn't come from this world.
Typo, when I said your eyes would fill that 1-inch space, I meant eye: singular.
"We are all dying in increments."
Aren't we all? :) That is what makes life so spectacular. Something that lasts forever isn't really precious.
You are an inspiration in the sense that you do not allow your disability to silence your voice much less numb your brain. You challenge me to do more with my life when I see how much you do with yours.
Thank you.
Victor Khong
Dear Mr. Ebert, I've read in the news that you have regained your natural voice in a breakthrough "text-to-speech" synthesizer technology developed from Britain (presumably the same technology you wrote of in a previous "journal" entry), and that you will unveil it on The Oprah Winfrey Show. I'm delighted! And happy for you. Can't wait to hear your old/new voice (again)!
- Dean Jones, Belfast
Ebert: That British story was premature.
Dear Roger,
One great thing this blog post did was to make me suddenly realize that you are -not- dying, and that was a happy thought indeed.
I hadn't read or even heard of the Esquire article, so the impressions I had built up didn't have anything to do with that. I didn't really think about your condition much in the forefont of my consciousness, but I had somehow developed an impression of you as (in addition to being unable to speak or eat) being bed- or wheelchair-bound, unable to walk, weak and getting weaker...and I was saddend by this.
I don't know where I got this mental image, certainly you didn't say anything like that.
While reading your post, and seeing the accompanying pictures, I suddenly realized that if the problems were mostly with your jaw, that wouldn't necessarily mean the rest of you isn't perfectly functional!
I thank you for that revelation. Made my Friday all the better!
Have a good weekend,
Will Seabrook
Roger,
You shouldn't fear looking in the mirror. You are still the same fantastic man. Your courage is incredible. Be proud of the man you are. Most people would have quit and given up on life after facing the challenges you have faced. But you are still here, still strong, and still doing the job you love so much and gives so much to us all. Never give up, Roger.
-Justin
Dear Mr. Ebert: Your reviews are still the only ones I respectfully consider before seeing a film. Afterward I usually agree with your reactions.
Thanks for being one of the best American film critics of contemporary film.
As you alluded in the comments section of your Jermyn Street post to not caring for shaving, and in this one to having mixed feelings about how the lower half of your face looks these days, have you considered growing a beard? I for one think you would look great in a fully developed George Bernard Shaw beard.
Hey Roger,
I find you to be incredibly inspirational because of your massive talent for writing, but now I find you to be absolutely inspirational because of how you live your life, too. Thank you for your wisdom. I love reading your writing!
Sincerely,
Scot
Chris Jones's interview of you gave me the lump in my throat. Having not read all the comments, I wanted to make two points:
1. I admire greatly how well you accept your condition and remain positive; I'm not certain I would be as strong.
2. You truly are one of the luckiest men alive to have a wife so supporting and strong enough to encourage you even against your will at times. I think Chris Jones did remarkably well to highlight her role in your life.
I have been following your reviews for so long I feel like I've grown up with you. As a kid my dad and I watched pretty much every episode of Sneak Previews and At the Movies with you and Siskel. Through the years I continued to read your reviews. And even now (thirty-something years after first seeing you) I immediately go to your site (and Walter Chaw's) to see your review of some movie I'm curious about - at least once a week.
Your writing is so eloquent and thoughtful - and so full of an earthy point of view while still being sophisticated and knowledgeable. This is one of my favorite blog posts ever. Thank you for being you. And thank you for participating in my life with your beautiful writing.
Roger,
Thank you, thank you, for opening up your life to us all. The Esquire article is inspiring, because although you've been extremely open with us in your journal, some of the things that are now routine to you are eye-opening for us. I hope you understand how much we, your legion of readers, value you as a mentor and friend. Your photographs surprised me as many others have said, but those eyes speak volumes.
And now, I shall drive my family to the Steak n Shake for dinner, and I'll imagine you sitting at the counter.
I have often thought about you and Siskel and the issues about being private. When Mr. Siskel was dying I happened to be working with someone who knew him personally through their children and because she was helping some, getting his youngest child to pre-school, she had more information than most people about his condition. She had promised to do something for me at work and couldn't because of her taking on this obligatio to the Siskels and thus told me how serious things were with Mr. Siskel. Thus when he passed away I sad (as a fan) but not at all suprised. What shocked me was how many people who actually knew him said that they had no idea how bad things were. I can't imagine living my life with such a need for secrecy or privacy or whatever you might call it. It seems so distrusting of people. I think about this often and did again reading the article and realizing how differently you and he must have operated.
Dear Roger;
commercial music radio stations have a core play list of just 700 heavily researched songs. They are pre-programmed and for the most part automated.
There are still a few "live human" music stations out there. I would love to plug one from Pittsburgh. WYEP. It's a non-profit playing an eclectic progressive format. Check out their stream from their website. www.wyep.org. Or paste this url into iTunes or your internet radio player: http://wyep.streamguys.net:80/ I can't say for sure if they are actually live in the studio, there is really no way to tell these days, but I can say the music is very carefully selected and segues very well.
Also many college radio stations are professionally managed and offer outstanding programming for just about every taste. Emerson College in Boston is a regular for me. http://www.wers.org/
I could probably do this all day so I'll stop here.
Enjoy.
Ebert: In addition to Radio Caroline, I love WDBC for jazz and, in the evening, world music. Streaming at
http://wdcb.org/
Actually, I was just looking at a ruler, and I think we actually only focus on about 1/4 of an inch of space.
That's about the size of our pupils, so I think that's where it comes from; the size of our pupils is actually the size of space that we focus on.
For those who don't know what I'm saying: I'm saying that imagine there is a tiny, circular 1/4 inch space in the center of our vision-- or the same size as our pupils, you know--is a little circle, which is where we REALLY focus on things--and not all the rest of the things we see around that.
That means that when we talk to someone at our usual distance, their eye (just one eye) would REALLY be in focus.
This seems to be true with art and things such as photography. The great photographers will direct your attention to one little spot. That's where they want you to look, and I think there may be a partly scientific reason for that, which is that we only focus on a size of space the size of that part of the eye that sees.
How do I know this? I'd rather not say, but you can ask. But this does come from a very real...let's say experiment, but I think it is true, which you can just go out and see for yourself.
(continued), just look at the picture of Roger, there is only a little 1/4 inch space that you can REALLY focus on, which is to say we only see a tiny little space at a time in life.
"The text you write must prove to me that 'it desires me.' This proof exists: it is writing. Writing is: the science of the various blisses of language; its Kama Sutra (this science has but one treatise: writing itself)." -Barthes
You, dear sir, are an incredible writer.
Your writing is blissful, and it desires me. I wish I had known sooner.
Fortuitously, I read the article two days after seeing Herzog's "Land of Silence & Darkness" (streamable on Netflix and a great watch IMO)...obviously your situation and that of the various deaf-blind people featured in that film are quite different, but both touched me in a similar way: how much of our experience as human beings is bound up in the way in which we communicate with the world and the world communicates with us? In Herzog's documentary, the primary challenge is with incoming communication...how to "make contact" with those who can neither see or hear (some from birth, some from later incident), although the last two people featured in the film also have (utterly heartbreakingly) no means of outgoing communication either. I was able to take your upbeat comments very much at face value because even though one avenue of outgoing communication is closed to you, you maintain a thoroughly lucid incoming connection and have found ways to communicate to others as thoroughly as ever -- indeed, while I hope I will never have to go through what you have endured, I found myself (for want of a better term, and please don't think I'm trivializing your experience) "envious" of your chance, forced though it is, to explore an alternate language, but (and this time it is the correct term) absolutely envious of your ability to see yourself in such positive terms. I think I would have serious difficulty being so upbeat in a similar situation.
Anyway, the article is thought-provoking to those who have not experienced anything similar, and it has made me seriously reconsider my "the Internet is going to kill us all" attitude -- I think a lot of you as a critic and am thankful that, if nothing else, the Internet has made it possible, at least in part, for me to continue to read and enjoy your reviews, hopefully for many more years to come.
Thank you for sharing yourself with us, Roger. I have been a fan of your since I was a kid - I wrote a review of "Driving Miss Daisy" as a nine-year-old for a writing assignment.
Learning more about you as a man over the last few years has truly enriched my life - and my continued love of film!
My husband gets Esquire, and I'd just read the article today. I'm from Chicagoland, and I've been a fan of your reviews and writing since I was a kid. (I'm now 43.) I live far away from Chicago now, but I read your movie reviews almost every week, and your blog occasionally. You're a reminder of a place I'll never live again, but am proud to be from.
The article was lovely, and I appreciated your candor and openness. I agree that joy is the most important thing - so many people don't, and how much poorer their lives must be.
Thank you for sharing your self and your life with us so beautifully for so many years.
Roger, I join the chorus of people who think the Esquire article did justice to you. I enjoyed the peek into your day-to-day life, and now I know which seat I want to sit in next time I go to the Lake St. screening room (which only happens maybe twice a year for me). But, like Chaz, I prefer the middle.
The article did have an elegaic quality that made me think, "Hey, he's not dead! Stop that!" I did think about you when you were in the hospital. I sent you an e-mail suggesting you see a Chinese film at Facets and you writing back: "Actually, I do have a pretty good excuse! I'm having surgery Friday, and may still be housebound." That was June 15, 2006. I work about two blocks from NW Memorial, and I thought about you being taken care of there. I know they're the best, so I didn't worry. We never knew how serious that ruptured "blood vessel" thing was because we didn't know which vessel it was at the time. When I found out last year, I started shaking in my boots on your behalf.
I was shaking with anger, too, about the disappearance of the Siskel tribute show. I taped it when it came on (yes, VHS) and still view it from time to time. I especially like all the Wonder Dogs you had for "The Dog of the Week" segment. I like how you guys never let the dogs upstage you either! I also like when you look at the teleprompter to see who wrote the copy on it and say, "It's very well written. I probably wrote it."
Anyway, it has been a privilege to share a chunk of my life with you in a number of different ways, and I look forward to more.
Ebert: Hey, Ferdy!
Readers: Ferdy is a big mover behind geh Blogathon in support of the film Preservation Foundation. For info, visit her blog by clicking on her name.
I have always admired your reviews. I have to be honest in saying I didn't know why I no longer saw you around. I missed it somehow in the fast paced world we live in. But, I was so drawn to this article, because one of my sisters is in the process of going through tests for what looks like so far,may be thyroid cancer. I am terrified at the reality of this. This article was hopeful. When I looked at your photo, my first response was looking at the disfigurement yes. But, it very quickly shifted. Now, what I see is the light in your eyes. It is brighter than ever and I find that even more uplifting. Thank you for allowing this to be written and your picture included. What is on the inside is so clearly projected and I can't thank you enough.
"The text you write must prove to me that 'it desires me.' This proof exists: it is writing. Writing is: the science of the various blisses of language; its Kama Sutra (this science has but one treatise: writing itself)." -Barthes
You, dear sir, are an incredible writer.
Your writing is blissful, and it desires me. I wish I had known sooner.
Dear Mr, Ebert,
How Are You Sir? I hope with the grace of God You are doing great. Great Admirer and wellwisher of yours. Sir I would like you to see an indian movie called My Name Is Khan, Please Review It, Also could you let me have your twitter nik so that I can follow you,
Sorry for being Off the topic.
Please take care of your self, Keep Fighting.
Dear Roger:
I've been watching you and Gene Siskel since your Sneak Preview days. I never agreed or disagreed with either of you, but I always came away with the knowledge that I knew exactly what to expect from a movie before I bought that ticket.
I've been reading your blog for a year or so since I discovered it, and I've enjoyed it alot. I used to live in England when I was little, and I love the bits about parts of England I will never experience because they are now gone. Thank you.
Like many others here, when I read your words, I hear your voice in my head. You haven't lost your voice at all.
Thanks, B
Dear Roger, I just want to take this opportunity to thank you for your words and opinions. I've found them interesting and entertaining over the years.
All the best.
Roger, please tell me that your were kidding about "tweeting an apology to Rush Limbaugh" and correct me if I have somehow missed out on the joke.
If your apology was indeed sincere, I have to ask myself why those who expose and stand up to Limbaugh publicly, the "in-thing" to do now that Obama has become President, is to apologize for being brave one day and then caving the next. Please tell me I'm wrong.
Ebert: Well, he was sick. On the other hand, if 40 million Americans can't afford to get sick...
You have a blessed life. Not only have you been a creative inspiration to me since the very beginning of your television career- but you have managed to be a voice of comfort and strength through my recent hardships. There are not many people who can lay claim to having lifted a medium which has so often been used to spread anger and fear- to a place for serious discussion, strength, comfort and humor. A most sincere thanks for sharing your life and spirit with us all.
P.S. Looking forward to your book on cooking with the Pot.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
This past Sunday, I learned of the battle you have been facing over the past several years. While I follow your movie reviews, my residence in AZ has taken me away from local Chicago news. Many years ago, perhaps it was 1973 or 1974, I drove a Checker taxicab in Chicago, and you were one of my passengers. I only drove for a short time, maybe 6 months, and then continued my education, etc. Over the years, people have asked if I ever had a famous person in my cab, and I always say "Yes, Roger Ebert, and his Mother."
It was a Sunday morning, and I picked you up somewhere around the Gold Coast or Near North neighborhood. The destination was Union Station. On the way, you (I didn't realize who I was transporting at that moment.) requested that we make a stop at a Cadillac dealership (maybe Hanley Dawson?...my memory fads). We did, and while you were window shopping, the woman with you leaned over the shield, and said, "That's my son, he's Roger Ebert." We continued to chat and it was apparent she was extremely proud of you, and the fact that you were taking her to the train station to make sure she was properly sent off.
I realize this incident represents only a brief moment in time, but I have shared the excitement of the experience many, many times over the past thirty-some years. (Yes, even in 1973 and 1974 you were famous.) I wish you peace in the days ahead and will pray for you.
Sincerely,
Peg Heslinga
Tucson, AZ
Ebert: Nobody within 10 yards of my mother need have anuy doubt about my identity. Probably not Cadillac, though. VW or BMW maybe.
@ S Butler wrote:
"By the way I was just kidding about the debate, everybody knows a debate with Ebert is a losing battle :)"
That depends on what you're hoping to win. :)
Ie: one's true objective. To best him? Score some bragging points? Plant a flag?
Or conversely, to slowly but steadily draw him in and towards the light where other kindred souls have gathered and to rightly worship the glory that is Photoshop.
Smile.
Note: here's the thing about Chaz's husband; he's willing to concede when he's wrong, but he has to arrive at that fact for himself. The case of Armond White, for example.
Otherwise, he will never concede autonomy of thought to another. His opinions are informed and un-coerced and there's an end to it. And I know this to be true because so are mine and ergo, I recognize the nature of his. :)
And why I'm quite content for him to be wrong about Harold & Maude while granting myself the pleasure of celebrating our differences via tossing water balloons at him over it. And when he does eventually die, I shall toss a copy of Harold & Maude into his open grave when everyone's backs are turned.
But only for thinking how amusing it would be to see the shocked expressions of the tearfully gathered when a hand suddenly and without warning, reaches up to snatch the film in mid-flight and toss it back out; Roger, knowing me, having made arrangements in advance to be buried with his Spam Filter. :)
You talked about bring joy to people.
I can think of two foreign films that I may not have seen if it weren't for your recommendation.
These are "Cinema Paradioso" and the Japanese movie "Shall We Dance."
I took my mother (who has probably never read any of your reviews or watch your TV show) to "Shall We Dance" and she enjoyed it immensely. Now, she has a VHS copy of it and watches it regularly.
Both movies are worth repeated viewings.
Mr. Ebert,
I have followed your work since about 1972 when I was in high school. I enjoy it immensely. Even when I think you are wrong, your underlying intelligence and love for the movies shines through. When I want a "real" opinion about a movie, I search out for your writing. I am also an Illini and have a soft spot for all things Champaign/Urbana. What did you think about the Slate.com hatchet-job on Scorsese yeserday? Sheesh...
Next article, next photo--
Do the Joker makeup.
No one will laugh harder than you will. Get Jack to do the photo with you. He will.
It'll be the cover photo of the year.
Give 'em hell, Roger.
Ebert: It;s an idea.
Marie Haws, this is a case for Photoshop!
this is by no means a comparison. just what popped into my head after reading the post.
if i were worried about my appearance, i wouldn't have spent the past 23 years in front of adolescents most of the day. when they say, "i need a mirror. oh, i'll just use mr. voza's head," i have to laugh it off. when they say, "how does it feel to be old, bald, and ugly?" i can only say, "it feels better than being young, dumb, and in detention." i knew a similar-looking teacher who used to freak out when the kids made fun of his lack of hair, or excess of scalp. i tried to tell him that once you show them that those words get you angry, it'll never stop. if they realize that you're only going to laugh about it, then they won't bother. however, if they know it makes you laugh and they continue to do it, then they like you.
laughing at myself brings those misguided kids next to me instead of opposite me. i teach them to laugh when others insult or make fun of them. i was teaching the kids a new word, permanent, and i wanted them to use it in a sentence. one boy said, "mr. voza was depressed because he realized that his hair loss was permanent." everyone laughed, but the principal heard it and was shocked. she yelled at me for allowing them to be so disrespectful. she didn't realize that now those kids would never forget that word.
so many kids, maybe grown ups too, want to put others down, make them feel less than they are, and they start with attacking the image. but it's just an image.
people need to realize that it's just an image, it's not substance or a definition. that kid's hair curls. that kid's doesn't. that one is tall, the other is short. her lips are puffy, and she walks a little different.
yeah yeah, sure. but what have you done? where have you been? what have you said? what have you given others? what can you do when someone needs help? that's the stuff that counts.
DaniEl Ben Freeman said: In Aug of 2005 God had mercy on me and delivered me from my sins thru His Son, Jesus.
Months later, I saw you giving a favorable review of the Da Vinci Code, and I remember thinking, "that old fool better shut his mouth and soon before God shuts it for him".
Then I noticed you missing from your show for some time and the next time I saw you I saw that His patience had indeed run out.
You still have time Roger. Don't be a fool and beg for mercy. You've been pimping Satan's filth for years and you have a lot to answer for.
What is it about the internet that makes people think it's suddenly Ok to violate the laws of common courtesy and good taste? Anyone who has seen somebody live with cancer then finally succumb to it would understand that beating cancer must count for something. I've seen it. Have you?
I have to agree though with Roger Ebert. Calling the article "Roger Ebert's Last Words" was pure genius. One has to agree even more with all the blessings people are counting here. Reading these journal entries provoke a lot of thought as well work as an encouragement to express our own ideas about our experiences.
As far as talking about our experiences is concerned, there has been a change since I first started posting comments here- I finally found a job that I think will bring some real purpose. For the last 4 weeks, I've been the Assistant Manager of a home where I've been working with mentally retarded citizens. Hopefully it will lead to a career as a Behaviorist or Counselor of some sort. And hopefully it will become "something to make others a little happier."
Ebert: He's a poor advertisement for his or any other religion.
Hi Mr. Ebert,
Having read the blog since you put it online, I feel like I (and I'd assume other readers would say the same) have had an intimate relationship with your thoughts and it is a relationship that I treasure, but it's fascinating to watch this story go national, as CNN just posted a piece on oral cancer issues, and bring some awareness to the struggles that all people with this type of cancer are facing.
Thanks,
Jack
Where is the news?!? You've always lived a life and done work to which one would aspire. And now just more and better of the same. Glad to be reminded. That's the news.
Oh, you're a perfectly lovely sight to these eyes.
Hi Roger,
I want to thank you for the inspiration shared in both the Esquire article and this blog entry. You're a tremendously strong person to be able to cope with your cancer, and take it all with such dignity and stride. I wish you all the best!
I too, hope that my death comes painlessly. I think there's a simple comfort knowing that it just simply doesn't matter after that point.
Keep on writing and living!
- Jeff
Dear Roger,
I've enjoyed reading your work for most of my life and attribute a great deal of my ability to accept the wonderful beauty that film offers at the highest level of its craft to your insight. We're not done reading, and you're not done writing. That's a good match, don't you think?
Whatever it is that brings us happiness, comfort, positive energy, and love in this world, I hope that divine wind blows in your direction. Best of luck to you and Chaz.
Sincerely,
Paul L.
Philadelphia, PA
Dear Mr. Ebert,
You continue to impress me everyday. For the now 6 decades you have been publishing reviews in, the last 10 years have had your best writing and most personal essays, all while confronting the monster that is cancer. You have grabbed the bull by the horns and conquered your troubles like few are truly able to do. I am a huge fan of your work and, would just like to say, that I am sticking with you until the end. That most likely, and hopefully, will be a long time from the present, but you have me and millions of other readers to appreciate your work forever.
Someone said this above, and it's entirely true: I hear every word of your writing as if it were spoken in a Chicago accent. What I liked about this Esquire piece was that it conveyed the "Ebert I know," which of course is not the Ebert that Chaz knows, but rather the writer, the viewer and the human sensibility I have come to know in reading and watching your reviews for some time.
I also thought the A.O. Scott piece in the New York Times (http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/13/movies/13scot.html?ref=arts) did the same thing beautifully--- "Mr. Ebert — do you mind if I just call him Roger from now on? — has no disciples, only friends...But my hunch is that some of Roger’s most steadfast friends are people he has never met."
And the Esquire piece was a glimpse into the "real" of that friendship and how precarious it may be--I can still remember being unhappy that I could not "ask you" what you thought of The Departed when it came out.
Is this the same DaniEl Ben Freeman who had his little blog and swore that back in September Los Angeles and San Francisco would be destroyed like Sodom and Gomorrah and that he would be transported by God to Israel where he would create a new government? It ism isn't it? Well, what happened, Danny Boy? Last I checked, LA and San Francisco were still there.
On a much more important note, I loved the article. Thank you, Roger Ebert.
The tribute to Mr. Siskel from your show has returned to youtube somehow.
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder - you're truly an inspration to me no matter the exterior appearance - the mind is full and alive with sexy overtones - yes!
Mr. Ebert,
It was always a pleasure watching your reviews over the years, and has been an even greater privilege reading your reviews, essays and now blog. After reading the interview in Esquire and afterwards reading your comments on your blog I was reminded of a small scene in Field of Dreams. Kevin Costner has found Moonlight Graham, and after the two of them talk and he tries to convince Moonlight to comeback with him Iowa. Moonlight politely declines, to which Costner says it's considered a tragedy to come so close to your dreams and not take that chance. Then Moonlight calmly & cooly says "Now if I'd only been able to be a doctor for 5 min...that would have been a tragedy."
For some reason that line always gave me chills. I can't help feel that scene is very apropos to your life now after reading the article. If there was enough magic out there to make the world hear your voice again, I'm sure you wouldn't object. But if after all that has been said and done, if you were never able to write another word again.... that would've been a greater tragedy.
TO MANY MORE THINGS TO READ!!
Roger Ebert is a diamond. He is himself and unashamed. He is "the" film critic. It doesn't matter that I may not always agree with him, it does matter that I believe in what he writes and his conviction. Roger you look fine, after cancer and surgeries and you're still willing to put yourself completely out there. And actually you look happy - simply astounding!! That is bold, that demonstrates a great faith. More than I have. I wish you and your wife continued success and may God bless you both always. Your wife seems beautiful inside and out like you - both of you just keep loving and shining. You're wonderful.
Roger,
It was a beautiful article and it motivated me to leave this little comment. I just wanted you to know that I have always enjoyed your shows and valued your opinions. I look forward to reading your tweets in my Twitter feed every day.
The article in Esquire is touching and beautiful, it's very brave of you to allow it to be published. It's very brave of you to publish a lot of what you have in recent months, be sure it is all appreciated. Your blogging and film criticism has become a standard in my life in recent years and your unique and beautiful view of the world is endlessly touching and inspiring.Your eloquence and insight, both in regards to film and life, express so clearly the beauty and wonderment that we all so often lose track of in our busy lives. May I also say that your relationship with Chaz seems so strong and tender, may we all be so lucky as to have such a person in our lives.
Thank you for everything.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I teared up when I saw your Esquire headshot. Your photo reminds me terribly of my late Grandma. During the ages of 11 and 12, I had to watch a woman I loved battle the same form of cancer you have.
I don't think any photos were taken of her during that time and now, I wish some had.
Great article in Esquire. You're a strong man. I've liked your perspective for years, watching you and Siskel in my parents basement. I didn't really get a full appreciation until I got into Meyer's films in my early 20's (I had no idea about the connection between you and him until seeing those films and reading Big Bosoms and Square Jaws). Stay strong. Will continue reading with admiration.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
Take a look at that photo again, my friend!! You know what the first thing I saw was? Smiling eyes in the face of adversity. I see an incredibly warm smiling face...especially the eyes... and I am not saying that to make you feel good! That is what I see. I have not even followed you much over the years. It was the smile in your eyes that made me want to read the article. It led me to this blog.
I do not see a frail man and these are not the words of a frail man. I am sorry I have only read your words for the first time today... it will not be the last of them I read. Your words flow like I am sitting having a conversation with you and Chaz. You don't need me to tell you the writer you are... but I am telling you anyway!
You are a strong man with a beautiful smile and beautiful words that touch a soul. My soul. What I wouldn't give to just sit and listen to you and Chaz tell stories. What a nice surprise to stumble across this article.
I didn't come to read this article because I wanted to know what happened to you... I came to read this article because I wanted to see if I could find out the reason for the smile behind your eyes!
From the depths of a touched heart,
Respectfully,
Jeanie Herold
This body is just a shell that we inhabit while we're in this world. Although concern for how we appear to others has spawned a multi-billion dollar industry, what is really important is who we are.
You have been, and are, a source of great joy to me (and I know I'm not alone) through your entertaining and thought-provoking film reviews and essays. It is a delight to be able to share in the fruits of your mind.
In the end, it's not how long one is on this planet as much as what one contributes to the lives of other during that time. In my opinion, you have contributed more than any one person's fair share to the betterment of the quality of life (think of all the money that has been saved avoiding all those "thumbs down" bombs).
Savor the time that you are with us. I know that I (and numerous others of your fans) will.
Roger,
I wrote to you once before -- on CompuServe of all places -- about 15 years ago, to thank you for the insight your movie reviews brought to me. To my delight, you actually wrote back to me.
And now I feel compelled to write to you once again to say, "Thanks."
The article in Esquire, and your commentary about the article, was an interesting window into your world. I realize now I've always heard your voice through your writing (and it's different than your voice on TV). And while I know things have changed for you, the voice I've grown used to is still there -- and is stronger than ever.
Ebert: Compuserve was like a little private club in hose days. All of 4 million members.
Mr. Ebert,
You and I have something in common: we both lost command of a major faculty within the last 3 years.
I lost my hearing to spinal meningitis. (A cochlear implant has given me a little hearing back, but it hardly compares).
I noticed, in the Esquire profile, that you sometimes have problems communicating if you are stuck without writing material, and resort to spelling out letters on your hand to communicate.
Let me suggest a solution which has worked for my wife and I.
Learn to finger spell.
I'm not suggesting learning sign language: that is a big task for someone in our age ranges (I'm 48).
But the 26 hand formations which correspond to the alphabet are fairly easy to master. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_manual_alphabet provides a good introduction).
You can't speak; I have difficulty hearing.
But, I've found that in situations, like noisy environments, where my cochlear implant has not been of much avail, that my wife and I have been able to communicate by "finger-spelling" to each other.
Not an ideal solution, perhaps, but I think it might work better than spelling out letters on your hand.
In light of my own handicapped, I have formulated the observation that "it matters not so much what happens to you in life, but rather, how you *chose* to react to it".
You exemplify that in spades.
We have all lost your voice, but through your writing, we continue to be able to enjoy your ideas!
Ebert: I'll look into it.
Mr. Ebert, or Roger if you prefer. I have been a fan of yours for many years, even though I haven't been very diligent about it. I stopped watching "At the Movies", after you left and wondered about your health. And then I discovered your site here and keep it bookmarked for weekly viewing. I have been privileged to read your articles and reviews for a couple of years now, and I am continually impressed by your self awareness and capacity to understand the nuances of life's little mysteries and harsh realities. Perhaps it is because of your surgeries that you have become more introspective, I honestly can't comment on that since I have no reference to compare your work too. But I always appreciate your opinions and reflections, even if I don't always agree with them.
I realize it might patronizing to say thank you for doing your job, but I sincerely hope you continue to delight us with your words for years to come.
You ARE a lovely sight, Roger. That photo of you is the most human thing I have seen since I can't remember when. There is a strength of spirit and honesty in your eyes that belies any physical vulnerability one might perceive at first glance. Thank you for courage! And thank you for your blog, it is by far the most interesting and thought-provoking reading I do.
I’ve slowly come to understand the liberating power of writing. I think Mr. Ebert that you have demonstrated it. I know personally how writing allows me convey my thoughts with a voice that has all the quickness and authority that my real voice doesn’t have, and writing has allowed you to overcome hurdles infinitely greater than that.
I don’t subscribe to any idea that writing expresses “the real me”, because the outside appearance is the real me too. But it is the me that hogs all the attention. When you’re writing nothing can prejudice people against you except your words and arguments.
It’s not just writing that breaks down boundaries for people, it’s this wonderful thing called the internet. I’m from the generation that grew up with it, and I’m sincerely happy that you’re not one of those people who dismiss it. It’s enabled me to connect with all kinds of people from around the world, and broadened my perspective about a lot of things.
The written word and the internet have allowed the world to continue to experience your humor and intelligence and insight about movies, and I think a lot of us are incredibly appreciative of that. But I’ve seen another boundary break down. I’m not one to get extremely star struck but I grew up watching you on TV and thinking about what I’d like to say if I were on the show. Now I’ve written on your blog and you’ve answered. That’s pretty amazing. I’m not an actor or a director but when it’s just my words on a page it doesn’t make much difference, does it?
Thank you for all that you do and keep writing!
Roger, I have just two things to say:
1) You are loved far more than you will ever know; 2) Your new face is beautiful to those who love you.
Dear Roger,
Three brief thoughts for you upon reading the Esquire piece and your blog...one funny, one serious, one question.
Did you ever read Gary Larson's "The Far Side?" In one panel William Clark's mother is interrupting him from writing his memoir to tell him (to paraphrase) "Everyone is saying 'Lewis and Clark', 'Lewis and Clark'...If you don't do something about this, it will stick!" :-)
Someone who I don't know once said "Death is the greatest teacher." Some years ago I was touched by the threat of death, and it really changed my worldview. I can feel from your article that you care nothing for life trivialities and instead focus now on the beautiful, the true and the good. Please stay in that state, for the good of all of us.
Having heard much about your life, suffering, and personal growth, I find myself extremely interested in Chaz's perspective and experiences. Would you ever do a blog entry about her and your life together, or is that off-limits?
For what it is worth, the world will be a poorer place when you leave us.
Take care,
Brad Talley
Glendale, CA
I really have nothing special to add; simply to say thank you, for sharing your love of the movies with the world through your television show with Mr. Siskel, through your reviews, and in this blog. It's been truly inspiring and really wonderful.
Thank you as well for the blog, which is insightful, intelligent, and one that leads me to question the world around me, movies, and life. Reading something that affects me is a really rare treat, so -again- thanks.
I fell in love with movies one summer when I tried to watch all of your first volume of "Great Movies". The experiment failed, but that's life. I still hope to see them all one day, and I look forward to discovering more great films through your great journalism.
Thank you so much for agreeing to the Esquire article.
For as long as I remember, I have been eager to hear what you have to say about every movie I watch and every new one that comes out. I don't always agree with you but I always respect and have interest in your take.
Reading the Esquire article made me respect and admire you even more. Thank you for letting Chris Jones into your life and thank you for continuing to share your thoughts and love of film with us in your reviews and your blog.
I have never been a huge fan of movies (sorry) and so although I've always known who you are and what you do (I'm 35) I never really had any sort of frame of reference for your physical appearance. A friend of mine who had thyroid cancer over the past few years turned me on to your blog a few months ago and I have been absolutely enamored with your writing to the point that I want to get myself a netflix membership. I have to say that when I read the Esquire article, I thought the photo of you was absolutely fantastic - it's always harder to see ourselves in photos, I think, especially when there's been change, you know? For all the surgeries you've been through and how it was detailed in the article, I would have thought you'd look a fright. You don't.
Is that Chaz in the photos? She's gorgeous, as well.
Thank you so much for all your writing - I really look forward to reading your blog.
Be well,
Kate
Whenever I'm working my way through some less than enthralling piece of non-fiction, I often use a trick I taught myself in college. I start reading the piece again, but this time I read it with someone else's voice in my head. That voice is usually Will Lyman's (the narrator of Frontline) or Peter Coyote's. You might be amazed at how interesting some things can be if it sounds like they are the subject of a documentary.
However, if I'm reading something about film, I can sometimes unintentionally start reading it with your voice in my head. I don't have to force it, it just happens. It's kind of like after listening to a book on tape and reading something else only to find that the narrator's voice has worked its way into your head and decided to take over the duties of internal narrator.
That's what happens when I read about movies sometimes. I get Roger Ebert's voice in my head, telling me about all the stuff that's worth listening to.
And I must say, it's rather enjoyable to be able to hear it.
This is not specific for any single discussion- I just wanted to say "Thank You!" I have read and reread your reviews for 4 decades and you just keep getting better: That, Mr. Ebert, is a lovely sign of continued maturing. I hope your life continues as you wish and that your writing, insights, conclusions, opinions, and your joy for movies- and the people who labor to make them good -remain available for reading. Thank You, Mr. Thumbs Up. Bravo, sir... Bravo!
There are some things I am grateful to realize; one- you have an extraordinary wife, two- You touched my life in many ways over the last decades but especially now, and three- with the things we all lose in life, how much we gain. You continue to touch many lives and inspire the masses. If there is a balcony in the afterlife, I hope it is more heaven than hell, or at least a 60/40 split for the better. Thank you sincerely!
Flesh is merely physical accoutrement. What has been removed has only revealed more of the true Roger Ebert.
Roger,
I have not read the Esquire piece yet because I am saving it for the luxury of reading uninterrupted and not distracted. However, as an RN, I've seen all kinds of surgical results. I saw that picture and was initially surprised, but then when I looked more closely, I thought, "what a talented surgeon you have." Considering the magnitude of the surgery, I think you look terrific! Yes, your hair is entirely too neat, but your face looks really good.
Ebert: I believe all of my surgeons were gifted. They did their very best. It was not to be. They were truly sympathetic afterwards, but had nothing to regret.
I read your article and have come back to the real meaning of the term "full disclosure" several times, made even more ironic, especially this day, by a certain male athlete's inability to completely come clean in front of a world that wants desperately for him to be the "Tiger-of-old." As your article teaches, the truth is, we are never, and can never BE, the ANYTHING-of-old. We should not lament and pine desperately for the past, it is done. Most of us are unable to come to grips with this until it is too late. For you, Roger, your renaissance (if I can take the liberty of calling it that, I'm sure you would disagree that it has been that pleasant) lies in your ability to still appreciate what a gift every day of life truly is. The day of reckoning will come for all of us, but in your piece, you are unflinching, you do not apologize for anything, not your looks, not your opinions, not your stubbornness (which I still do appreciate), but most of all, thankfully, your ability to still live a life that is self-fulfilling and still clearly touches others in a positive and unique way. I am sorry for still feeling that tinge of pity and sadness for you, but I am also glad that you continue to spread your galactic gospel to a community who appreciates your sincerity, honesty and openness. Maybe someone like Tiger can open himself up to the scrutiny that you have allowed others to view you with, and learn a lesson in the true meanings of the words honesty, humility and dignity. Perhaps the analogy is a stretch, but the real (read authentic) "news" of the day is that Roger Ebert is alive and well and continuing to give his opinions. The press conference, and face time (really!) should have been yours. Please continue to show your face to an appreciative audience, the mind behind it is as sharp as ever, and that's what counts.
I've also been a student of Roger Ebert's school of cinema for years. I started out with At The Movies, then your book, then the web site, then your weekly newsletters. Now I read your first paragraph and then eventually get around to seeing the film, usually on DVD. I'm inevitably drawn back to read the rest. Then I ponder what I've just learned.
You have my vote for an Oscar for a lifetime of improving the art of film making. But wait, can a critic receive an Oscar? Why not? I look forward to celebrating!
Best wishes and thanks!
Jonathan
I'm sitting here a little choked up right now, the love and affection in this room is so overwhelming.
Last night, I read the Esquire article and smiled: same ol' Roger, unchanged after all this time. Tonight, I picked up my worn and battered edition of Roger Ebert's 1987 Movie Home Companion--and I smiled again. How much joy you've brought into my life, I thought. How much you've taught me! And all these 20 or so years, it's been so one-sided; like you said, you thought you've been writing in a void.
Now, with such astonishing advancements in technology, we have the opportunity to come in here and give the love and joy right back to you.
Thank you for making a difference in my life, Roger Ebert. Now put in that laserdisc of Pasolini's Salo and start writing!
The article reports on your nurse's night terrors. My wife used to suffer from this. She has mild asthma, and the struggle for air is somehow linked to the terrors. I'm not sure if Millie has any lung disorders, but keeping them well-managed is a good start.
My wife saw a specialist who suggested a sleep study, but the only real medicine he offered was Valium, which he admitted was not a good long-term choice.
My wife has found semi-permanent relief through two things: keeping her weight as low in her normal range as possible, and eating plenty of dark chocolate throughout the day. Somehow, this combination has helped, but we don't know why. Perhaps the caffeine or some other flavonoid in the chocolate?
Recent evidence has shown that many purported alien encounters from the past were probably attributable to night terrors. Most people see strange creatures, hence the screams.
I wish you well in your future endeavors.
Ebert: Millie sees ghosts. She saw the new Irish ghost film "Eclipse" today and said the movie was just like she sees.
Hi Roger,
How do you look at movies ? Where your analytical mind takes a back seat and the movie lover picks it up ? How do you decide this one is the nice "wine" and I will enjoy with "prawns dipped in lobster sauce" or this is just plain "mc chicken " I would not have had, had I not been hungry ? You definitely know what I mean.
I have followed "most" of your advice on movies since I fortunately came across your critiques . Now it has become a routine to seek your opinion before the much awaited friday saunters in .
Would love to get an insight into how you think when you see a movie.
I guess a lot would be collective wisdom gained over decades of following films. If you can pass the essence on to the generation that have missed "Siskel and Edbert" I am sure a fortunate few would be able to learn from it.
Keep enjoying the drive , it is definitely "glorious" even though there might not be a god there .. who knows ..
Take Care,
Arkaprabho Ghosh
PS : Would love to hear from you about Bengali Cinema , especially Ritwik. Like all lumanaries Satyajit Ray eclipsed this genius to an extent
Dear Roger,
I mentioned in earnest months ago on one of the blogs, in response to your piece on televised film critics, that you should investigate vocal instruments. And now, I read that you have and you will reveal all on tv. What are your thoughts about regaining your audible voice? To millions of your fans I imagine they will be absolutely beside themselves, happy for you and happy that you may return to tv so they can hear the old thumbs up/down/sideways once again. The positives as you have pointed them out before are you are able to experience communication differently. Do you think this will change? I for one, think it's all good. I just hope to keep being able to continue to communicate with you and your fans on this here site and discuss the thing we love, and for you to continue to hear our (your faceless friends) stories and opinions.
P.S Shuttter Island was not a cop out as some (not you) have suggested. It's not the filmaker's fault you chose to view it a certain way. The ending doesn't work any other way
Dear Mr. Ebert:
I bought Esquire specifically b/c you were mentioned in an AP story that mentioned it. I never would've known you were interviewed for it otherwise. I had a wonderful time reading it on a plane ride from Florida to Newark, N.J.
It is good! I've decided to put your "final last words" ("I believe that..." in italics, last page) on my wall as it sums everything up so perfectly.
The article made me very sad! I'm 42 and remember watching you and Gene Siskel arguing on PBS. I'm still sore at both of you for trashing the slasher movies back then (esp'ly "Friday the 13th"). To this day I'm drawn to those types of movies, but only if they're done well. I know you don't like them. But did you know that slasher movies are, essentially, a fragment of the Italian giallo movies, with their complicated plots removed? I learned that a few months ago.
Anyway, back in the '80's, I remember you and Siskel reviewing a movie in which someone was killed in front of a plant, and the plant was later hooked up to a lie detector and everyone in the factory had to walk by it to see who made the plant the most nervous (i.e., the killer). Do you remember the name of the movie? That plot was right out of a book of short stories I'd read in 5th grade. I don't remember whodunnit, but would love to see the movie.
I'm glad you're not letting your appearance get to you. There are people who love you, want to see you, read your reviews, etc., and how you look doesn't matter to them (or me!). Maya Angelou said it best: "I know why the caged bird sings." The interpretation: Because it's glad to be alive. :-)
Keep smiling!
Regards,
Glenn Allen
Randolph, NJ
Dear Mr. Ebert, I can't tell you how much you and Mr. Siskel made my movie going life complete. To watch your give and take with Mr. Siskel was not only pleasure to watch, but also justified my criticism of film, and help me define relativism and joy of cinema experience, that will stay with me for my whole life. My first exposure to your broadcast was in 1979 on a PBS station in Jacksonville Fla. You both gave a positive review to DAWN OF THE DEAD. As a reward for mowing the lawn of our house and his business, my father would take my brother and I to the movies on the weekend. Whoever mowed the grass got to chose what movie we would see. My father did not know what he was in store for when we went into a "Grindhouse", but I can tell you this. He Loved the Film and when it finally came out on video in 1983 he bought me a copy (without mowing a blade of grass). I have enjoyed you and your books, your opinions, and writings through the years. Mr. Ebert, I was shocked and saddened by the picture of your face, but at the same time I am so happy that you are alive. Your picture reminds me of the title of a book that you wrote "A Kiss is Still a Kiss." I still have that book in my library. and would love to kiss your beautiful face and hug you and tell you how much you mean to me. I would also love to introduce you to my lovely wife and my angel of a daughter. I hope one day we can attend you film festivals in Chicago and you will meet my loving family up close. Please know that we love a pray for you every day.
Thanks you Mr. Ebert, for pressing on, actually, improving. The world needs 'pressing on' and it is where the real light in the world shines. I only found out about your blog today, but I appreciate it, and based on the amount of scrolling I had to do to get to the comment box, you change lives.
Ultimately, that's really what it is all about, no?
God Bless,
Christopher Adams
Crystal Lake, IL
I'm one of many moved by the article. It called three things to mind-
1) The story about Stan Laurel visiting Oliver Hardy, who had had a stroke and was unable to speak. Mrs. Hardy was astonished when she heard no conversation coming from the room, so she peeked in to find Stan conversing with his old friend entirely in pantomime. (Clearly you would prefer to have people speak to you as the story in the article relates, but I thought it was a beautiful image nonetheless.)
2) Reading comments here and on other blogs about how many people are just "discovering" your writing as a result of this article. It made me think of Buster Keaton, late in his life, outside a screening of "The General" at a festival. He heard the people laughing- "Is that for me?" How wonderful he lived to see his reputation, faded from history for so many years, returned to the pantheon where it belonged.
These may both be apocryphal but I'm a sucker for moving stories about my favorite screen idols.
3) Your review of Huston's "The Dead", which inspired me to read the James Joyce story (I believe you called it the greatest short story in the English language. I have to agree.) which has inspired me and moved me so much over the years.I read it annually.
I'll continue to read your work, marvel how you can sometimes be so incredibly right, and sometimes so damn wrong.
Best wishes.
I thought you'd like to read this blog by Tim McGuire http://cronkite.asu.edu/mcguireblog/?p=160 who wrote to praise the writing of Chris Jones in this interview.
Ebert: Every word of that article is true.
Hello sir.
Having just finished reading the Esquire and being a life longfan, I just wanted to say God bless you sir and for all you've done. One of the best memories I have of when I was taping your show during Sunday mornings so that after church I could watch you and Gene talk about film, and it is a shame to see what Disney has done to your old program. Yes, it has improved in the last few months, but still, it isn't the same.
While most mainstream film journalism and criticism has become a little more than an excuse for the authors to prove how clever they are rather than reviewing the films, you remain one of the last few critics who still have something important to say. I may not always agree with you, but I certainly will always respect you, and look forward to what you have to have to say for years to come.
(sorry if this is a double post: an error occured when I hit submit)
Hello sir.
Having just finished reading the Esquire and being a lifelong fan, I just wanted to say God bless you sir and for all you've done. One of the best memories I have of when I was taping your show during Sunday mornings so that after church I could watch you and Gene talk about film, and it is a shame to see what Disney has done to your old program. Yes, it has improved in the last few months, but still, it isn't the same.
While most mainstream film journalism and criticism has become a little more than an excuse for the authors to prove how clever they are rather than reviewing the films, you remain one of the last few critics who still have something important to say. I may not always agree with you, but I certainly will always respect you.
Funny how things come back around...I stumbled on to this site about a month ago and read every entry. Your entry regarding Gene Siskel on the anniversary touched me very deeply, and I was disappointed when I saw that your embedded video was deleted. As it usually happens to me when I am aboard my surfboard, I moved on and forgot about it. Today, while surfing the web again, I came across the Esquire interview, which I enjoyed immensely. When I read the author's account of how angry you were to find that the videos were deleted, it renewed my interest, and I went searching and viola!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzsmNHr
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hh0bKJWs0Vw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-hX5Fe
All there, for all to see. Touching, loving, and funny! Thanks for all your memories!
Dear Mr. Ebert:
I have read your movie reviews for years. But I am also a sporadic reader of your blog, and the more I read it the more I appreciate your thoughtful accounts of -- well, about everything. I just want to thank you for teaching me how to think about cinema. I have a rule that I've derived about your analysis of a movie: If Ebert likes it, then I'll like it, but if he doesn't I may or may not. This little rule has given me the benefit of always knowing whether I'll be seeing a good movie, and yet the hope that even a movie you panned might still be enjoyable. But the latter I only risk by renting a DVD! Seriously, though, what you've done thru the years as a critic, and now as a thinking person writing wildly on any topic, has really mattered to my life. Thanks, really.
Roger, dude, you're beautiful. In so many ways.
Chaz, ma'am, you're beautiful. In so many ways.
Coming here is a highlight of my week. Thank you for letting me.
Mr. Ebert,
I have been a loyal fan since watching you and Mr. Siskel that first year of Sneak Previews. Your greatest gift to me over these years was forcing studios to consider your endorsement of their film while they made it. What would Roger Ebert think? Maybe that's too much credit, but my hunch is not. That was important for me because I knew when you said a film was worth seeing that (1) I would get a break from life and enjoy 2 hours, and (2) I wouldn't waste my money. I thank you for that.
I wish you the very best with your health, Mr. Ebert. I especially wish your wife the best. You will get the attention but her part in caring for you may get lost. We both are very lucky men for the women we chose to marry.
Very moving article which reminds physicians of our limitations... There's a time-consuming but relatively non-invasive technique for mandibular reconstruction that you might want to ask your doctors about (see reference below). Depending on how much of the mandible was left, where the radiation fields were, and dose to the remaining mandible, it might be another option to consider. Possibly with HBO.
All my best,
Mark
J Craniofac Surg. 2007 Nov;18(6):1397-402.
Reconstruction of large mandibular bone and soft-tissue defect using bone transport distraction osteogenesis.
Elsalanty ME, Taher TN, Zakhary IE, Al-Shahaat OA, Refai M, El-Mekkawi HA.
Department of Oral Biology and Maxillofacial Surgery Medical College of Georgia, Augusta, Georgia, USA. melsalanty@mcg.edu
Reconstruction of large anterior mandibular defects is a challenging task. The condition can become even more complex if primary reconstruction fails, leading to loss of the entire midline portion of the lower face with massive scarring of the remaining tissues. Bone transport distraction osteogenesis can provide a viable treatment option for these patients. One of such cases will be presented, followed by a discussion of the advantages, disadvantages, and limitations of the technique.
Ebert: I appreciate this information. My surgeons have suggested another surgery could be possible. But frankly, I'm unwilling. At this point the thought of spending more days, weeks or maybe months in a hospital room fills me with dread. I'm satisfied with my quality of life and good spirits. Or maybe you could say I just don't want to miss all those movies.
You are my favorite reviewer. You can take your reviews to the bank every time. You seem like a righteous dude also. Thank you and best wishes.
Ebert: Big boobs, did you say?
i tweeted weeks ago about how my love for you grows stronger and stronger every day..
the only thing that i can add after reading the article and your response is...
thank you.
I'm sure Roger Ebert is a fine man. It's a shame he appears to be taking his God-denialism to his grave. It's such a sad and empty way to go.
Ebert: Have you looked at this?
http://j.mp/d7svGC
I've been reading you faithfully since I discovered your written reviews online in 2001. I frequently wish I'd discovered you earlier. Fortunately, we live in a time when so much of your work has been preserved as well as your voice and image providing you a sort of immortality not afforded to any other generation on such a scale.
Through this journal, your reviews, and your video archives, I've come to learn, grow, and be inspired by you.
My life, so far as I know, will not touch as many people as I could hope. Nor have I done with it as much as I should or could. I would suppose inspiring someone who has become little more than average doesn't quite elicit a sense of elevation; but you have affected me by promoting critical thinking skills, Humanism, and a deeper appreciation for the cinema.
Mr. Ebert, we all love you. And I would be remiss not to take this opportunity to say it--though it's already been said many hundreds upon hundreds of times on this page alone--while I know you are around to read it.
Thank you so very much.
Aw hell, Roger...you still cut a pretty dashing figure of a man, though I suspect you would most certainly question my understanding of the term 'dashing.' Just ask Chaz...I'll bet she agrees with me (on the 'dashing part, I mean.) Besides, like the British idiom says, "worse things happen at sea," and indeed I am certain there are sailors in every port who could back me up on this.
As to the article itself, a damn fine piece of writing about a damn fine writer. Having spent a fair amount of time living on the outskirts of the windy city from 1983 through 2001, I read your reviews and columns pretty regularly, and always enjoyed them without fail.
You have a singular voice (an ironic use of the word I suppose) that continues to educate, amuse and even occasionally frustrate me, though I must admit even the frustrating times are tinged with a certain sense of good humor, and you have my deepest respect and admiration. Not that you need it, of course...you've managed to do fine without knowing about it all of these years...but I give it to you anyway.
Rather than spending any time wallowing in sorrow over all that you've been through, I feel it is time better spent to simply celebrate that you still ARE, and how that is good enough for me. I get to keep reading you, and you get to keep writing for me, so how can anything really be so bad? And I do mean writing for ME, since when I read anything by you it is only me who is hearing it, even though I realize there are countless other "me's" out there reading the same words. You're a pretty talented guy Roger, being able to hold simultaneous conversations with countless thousands of people all over the world, all at the same time.
In closing, I am sincerely happy that we still have you around, and I hope it will be so for many years to come. I wish you all the best, and will strive to continue sending good vibes your way as much as I possibly can. I even have some pretty decent marimbas, if you prefer...
Dear Mr. Ebert,
Thank you for sharing your fight with cancer in the Esquire article. The more the public learns about this terrible disease, the more likely they'll be to have annual exams and go to the doctor if they have warning signs.
Just last month the FDA approved a new surgical treatment for head and neck cancers through the use of the da Vinci Surgical Robot. If you hear from other patients, this may be an alternative to disfiguring surgery.
Best regards, and Go Illini!
Eric
Dear Sir,
I want to tell you how moved I was by reading this entry and the article written in Esquire. Please forgive my ignorance, but I had no idea you had lost the ability to speak, etc. I use your reviews on-line and this never occurred to me. In my mind, you are as I used to see you on TV. I'd like you to know how much respect your work. In particular, it comes to mind that I would like to thank-you for your incredible, heartfelt, insightful review of _My_Neighbor_Totoro_, by Miyazaki. My young kids don't really watch TV. I went to get the film for them after my wife and I read your review. We watched it and adored it. It is the ONLY film the kids have been allowed to watch end-to-end. Please keep writing and inspiring us. Thank-you for your strength and setting such an example for us all.
Dear Mr. Ebert
Really enjoyed the Esquire article glad you agreed to do it. Good piece of writing and you come across as a very real guy. But then just reading a bit of your blog reveals a great deal about who you are. As far as your voice, as others surely have said, your voice was always in your head in the first place. It is still there and we can hear it. Yes not being able to speak must be a nightmare; but you give voice to your thoughts through your writing communicating and touching more people than most of us will ever casually speak to in a lifetime of chatter.
All these folks seem to be fawning over you like stereotypical love struck teenage girls. Normally I would cynically shout out loud “Oh Stop! Already”, but I can’t really do that in your case. You seem like a real gutsy guy, true grit, if you will pardon the expression.
I have read some of your reviews and your blog entries on and off over the years, caught “Siskel and Ebert” since way back when and just today read a couple more of your articles. All I can say is “damn you can write!” You can turn a phrase this way or that and loop a path through a paragraph or a page that is really something special. Perhaps because I stumble over just the mundane rules of grammar barely able to put together a coherent sentence let alone a paragraph makes me appreciate your writing all the more. Reading your stuff makes me sit back and just say “wow!”
In regards to the Siskel and Ebert show slash partnership, that was one of those rare combinations of people, places, and times, that create the often talked about but seldom seen phenomena called chemistry. You guys had it, period. You were obviously a pro before the “marriage” but I would venture to say the head butting crazy camaraderie made both of you grow and become better critics and writers. Think you guys will always be the Lennon and McCartney of critics.
I trust this is not “the end of it all” because while you “have done something to make others a little happier” don’t stick a fork in it yet your “voice” would be sorely missed.
Thanks for all your work over the years on television and in print. I look forward to checking the latest review of yours for many years to come.
All the best.
John
I treasure pictures of my friends. When I look at them, I see the person they really are. One friend's intrinsic generosity of spirit comes through in her eyes, another friend's playful wit in the curl of his lip. On the other hand, I shun pictures of myself. I have a condition that affects my appearance, and when I see myself in the mirror or in photos, the person I see doesn't mesh with my own concept of myself at all. This can be painful.
This entry speaks to me. It articulates something I've always known but didn't know I knew, and could never have put into words so well. When I just go out into the world and live my life the best I can, I come closest to being content, to feeling like myself. Indulging in feelings of despair and fear of what others might think is indeed letting them live rent-free in that room in my head. It's useful for me to think of it this way.
I think that portrait is beautiful. I see you in it. I try to trust that my friends see me when they look at me, even if I can't always do so.
Forgive me for talking about myself, but like a great film, the wisdom and bravery of your writing about your own life illuminates my own. Thank you for that.
I may never forgive you for your "Knowing" review, but that's my only complaint when it comes to typing "ebert [movie title]" into my browser's address bar and building my rationality from there. I still quote *your* incredibly concise argument of the stupidity that is the red wire/blue wire scenario from your "Armageddon" Review whenever I can--it's like stealing a really, really good joke.
And so on.. you, sir, are a legend to me.
Dear Roger,
After reading these sincere letters to you, I'm completely overwhelmed. I can't recall a time when I've seen such an outpouring of love. The majority of the people writing here likely haven't met you personally, yet have developed and cherished a relationship with you which is only possible through your heartfelt writing and your willingness to give of yourself.
This page is an affirmation of the ability of one man to touch and greatly affect the lives of others.
All the best,
Paul L.
Philadelphia, PA
Roger, I'm so glad you're still here. I'm also glad FILM is still here. I remember back in 1999 when you wrote an article blasting digital projection. You wrote that film will always be projected via 35mm. You also wrote about MaxiVision 48. Eleven years later, well, MaxiVision 48 hasn't taken off, but we're still projecting 35mm film; albeit digital projection is slowly but surely rearing it's ugly head. However, only 10% of the auditoriums are digitally equipped. I hope it stays that way. There's absolutely no other way of doing it. Also, back in 2001, you wrote an editorial piece in which you believe nothing should ever be built at Ground Zero. Well, I guess they listened to you, because they STILL haven't built anything there. Roger, you are my hero.
Touching, poignant, wonderful article in Esquire. I may just have to pick up a copy.
Also, one of my friends from college (whom I've sadly lost contact with) used to see ghosts and auras. Wondering if Millie sees auras, too.
Finally, looking forward to your book on rice-cooker recipes. Of course, this means I'll have to get a rice cooker.
And if you need anything else to read, I did publish a poetry book...:-)
Hi Roger,
I've been too chicken to write anything because you've always seemed larger than life, even before your struggles with cancer came to light. I dread to think that I might waste your time, so it feels as if I am allotted just one question to ask (I know you're not a genie in a bottle, but darn it if it doesn't feel that way).
Your story-- the past twenty, thirty, forty years, not just the last five-- has been filled with humor, wit, and grief, and even though terrible hardship you maintain an earnest optimism that is downright enviable. I think it is far more raw and rich than any story manufactured in a movie you have reviewed. So my question is this: If someone were to make a movie about your life, who would you want to direct it? I'm somewhat less interested other details such as the writer, who would play you, and how it would begin and end (although I'd be happy to hear those too). Who do you think can build the narrative and set the tone that you would like to see?
(I apologize if you've already addressed this question to another reader or, even worse, in a blog post.)
Stay well!
Roger,
You wrote;""Resentment is allowing someone to live rent-free in a room in your head," I intoned. That line isn't original with me. It may have originated with her."
Is it possible that you were referring to the marvelous Sports Illustrated quote on Ali-Frazier?
"Ali has been living rent free in Frazier's head for more than 25 years"
The article is a must-read even if one is not a sports fan. A fine example of good journalism.
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1008814/2/index.htm
Ebert: Hey, that article was written by my friend Bill Nack, who I wrote about here:
http://j.mp/d4OdE
My father also got parts of his jaw removed, and had some throat surgery as well. Thankfully, he is still able to speak; not very well, but he attends speech therapy.
Roger, I hope all goes as well for you as it can go.
Weird-spelling-Daniel Freman above is a known crackpot wannabe-prophet blog surfer. He predicted the end of California by fire from Heaven several times last year, stepwise postponing the great event from spring until the year ran out. Back then, he vowed to retract and rethink his ramblings if he was wrong. As we see here, he's still reluctant to take his meds and doesn't really care about whatever he promised before. He has published accounts of how he had been institutionalized in the past, but apparently in real life he's just a harmless blatherer, so they set him free (of course in his mind they recognized he's a true prophet, in spite of the irritating fact that none of his predictions has ever come true).
Having people like him around is a nice reminder (for those who need such) that there's really not much to substantiate religious claims if they become too accurate. A psychologically talented astrologer or your local preacher, no real difference.
Commented earlier, but this:
You know that doesn't matter, don't you? I mean, we still love you. For me, even more now. Honesty is something I've always respected. Even treasured, even when it wasn't easy. (Mostly when it wasn't easy.) Perhaps it's a crush.
Wait. Did someone say something about boobs?
Until I read this moving, poetic story in Esquire, I knew Siskel was dead...but Ebert? No clue. I guess I live under a rock.
There is a boy in Columbus, Ohio who is dying of a rare neurological disorder. His name is Riley Mitchell. He is in second grade. Riley's parents managed to get him out of the hospital and back home just yesterday. He doesn't have long to live, but he is surrounded now by family and friends.
I am following his story because my son was born with a similar condition, but thankfully has none of the neurological complications.
Anyway, I posted your quote from the Esquire piece on Riley's blog today. I thought his family would find comfort in your beautiful words:
"I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do...We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out." -- Roger Ebert
Here is a link to Riley's CaringBridge website:
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/rileymitchell
There's a connection here. I'm not sure what it is, but it is there. And it is almost as clear as your voice, which I can still hear perfectly in my head.
Keep doing what you are doing, Roger. You deserve the last word.
Lauren Young
Brooklyn, New York
Not a lovely sight? Are you kidding? The Esquire photo is a little jarring, at first. This is not conventional beauty. But look at it. You've never looked better. Wait! I did a little experiment on google images where I looked at a bunch of your pictures from the last twenty-ish years, and I covered up the bottom of your face with the palm of my hand. And then I looked at this picture and I covered up the bottom of your face with the palm of my hand. And you look really good. And then I take my hand off the screen and you look like you're more confident and smart than you've ever been, and you're in the middle of telling the best joke that you have ever heard.
Just finished the E.article. As one who has had cancer and still deals with after treatment related problems..you made me appreciate what I have, Roger!..whatever it may be. Your thousand of fans may well comment on your writings-I instead praise your continued-daily stand for life that is the mark of a wonderful person. Love to you and Chaz.
" Roger Ebert included it in his Great Movies reviews in 1996 saying 'Over the years I have seen "Ikiru" every five years or so, and each time it has moved me, and made me think. And the older I get, the less Watanabe seems like a pathetic old man, and the more he seems like every one of us.'[3] In his Great Movies review of Seven Samurai Ebert called it Kurosawa's greatest film ".
This is from Wikipedia. I'm more enlighted now about my question.
Thanks alot for your wide acceptance.
I don't want to over sentimentalize or anything, but I am a 30 year-old electrical engineer living in Halifax, Nova Scotia sitting patiently at home with my wife waiting for our first child to be born - hopefully tomorrow. I've been reading your reviews on a weekly basis since I was 18 and I just wanted to mention how much they have influenced my life as a film lover. Over the years I have tried to watch as many of your 3.5 to 4 star rated movies as I could and you've introduced me to the wonders of great directors like Godard, Truffaut, Hitchcock, Copolla, Kubrick, Scorsese, Woody Allen, Spike Lee and many many more. I've never written any responses to this blog, but on occasion I have sent a few questions to your fantastic Answer Man column. After reading Chris Jones' article in Esquire this morning I just had an urge to write and to finally say "Thank You for all of the countless, wonderful film reviews". Tomorrow will probably be the happiest day of my life and I just want to share a bit of that happiness with you.
Ebert: Please be sure to come back and tell us how everything went!
No matter what, I still don't like the guy for the abusive way he treated Gene.
He's still a self centred arrogant little man to me.
Diverging from my saying I'd rather not say earlier, I think I'll just say why I think there is only a little 1/4 inch circular space that we REALLY focus on. I've done LSD. And for those who don't know what that might be: it is a hallucinogen, which means your brain is constantly struggling to process an image and every thing is all wavy and blurry and you are left with your imagination--and people IMAGINE crazy things (that's why they "see" pink elephants and whatnot). Back to the point: during that time, I tried to focus my eyes and something--anything!--and I noticed that there was a tiny little 1/4 circular space in the center of my vision where I COULD FOCUS: and ONLY in that little space. So, that's why I think we REALLY only see things a little 1/4 circular space at a time. Our brain is processing an image around that space but we only THINK we are seeing those things.
Just look at a word in paragraph and stay focused on that word and try to read all the words around that word without moving your eyes. There's only a little 1/4 inch space where you can read the words and all the other words might as well be language for C-3PO to decipher. So, I guess what I'm saying is people only see a little bit of things AT A TIME, and when I look at your picture up there, I see one eye; and then another eye; and then a piece here; and a piece there; but I only THINK it adds up to a whole picture, but it would actually take me a while to really see the whole thing, just like it takes a while to read all this stuff I just said.
When I was a journalism student at Central Michigan University in 1983, the school newspaper assigned me to cover a talk you were giving on campus. I happened to catch you in the student union a few hours before your talk and introduced myself. You made me feel like a colleague, not a cub and chatted with me for the better part of an hour about movies and life as a big city columnist. I've long since moved to New York City to live and work as a writer and have interviewed countless celebrities. My friends always ask me to tell war stories, i.e., the biggest jerks I've encountered aloong with the best folks. I, without hesitation, always say Roger Ebert when people ask me abou the nicest celebrities I've met. Your writing has inspired me, but the way you carry yourself is your true testament. It seems you always understood the meaning behind you only get one chance to make a first impression.
Ebert: I remember that event and sorta remember you. It was a literary conference, wasn't it? Weren't you the guy who complained none of the Oscar nominees had opened in Ypsilanti?"
I guess you'll go to your grave, a critic (even of my grammar) but you will soon be facing the Most High Critic and righteous Judge.
I say this out of true concern and love for you Roger. God gave you a very severe and public chastening for your sins which are grevious.
You started out making filthy films, and then pimped Satan's propaganda for decades.
Please, consider this and know God was merciful in giving you some more time to repent.
Praying for you Roger.
DaniEl
I just wanted to say that after I read the article in Esquire I was left with a sense of optimism and admiration. I too found myself in the ER hemorrhaging from my mouth after a tonsillectomy went awry last year... twice actually. It was a true "come to Jesus" moment the second time as they were uncertain whether or not they could stop the bleeding. The only difference with me is that the man I loved and the one who was sitting beside me in the ER proceeded to leave me the next day because he couldn't handle the moment. My heart and throat was broken simultaneously. Your quote about resentment just zinged me. It's so true.
I can tell Chaz is a wonderful woman and your rock in all that you have endured. That is a true blessing in life to have. I love stories of love conquering adversity. It gives me hope that I can find it too. Perhaps it's time to write your own movie? ;) You are a true gem, Mr. Ebert. Never forget that.
Ebert: That man, if you will permit me to say so, was a rat.
The bleeding was a terrible thing, but now it has stopped, and you are free of him.
I know, there are people who can't handle adversity, and can't help it. But those aren't the people you want to marry.
Roger
I didn't read the Esquire piece but I wanted to say I've been a big fan of yours since the 60s, I think, when I lived in Chicago. I not only enjoy your reviews and insights about life, but have learned a lot from you through your reviews.
Many times your reviews have brought tears to my eyes. I still remember your review of "Say Amen Somebody" when at the end of the movie you said, as I recall, that it made you feel as happy as you ever expected to feel.
I also remember and appreciate that you personally responded to me when I wrote you with a question about the movie "A Man for all Seasons". It occurs to me that maybe that title is a good one for you.
Be well, keep doing good...
Jud L
Raleigh NC
I have always admired actors and actresses who were brave enough to be in a film where they would not put their best face forward, but become a person they might have been should the world have taken a different turn. I saw your picture on another web site and was struck that you too are not only brave enough to accept what you can not change but brave enough to allow others to see what dropped on your head addressed "To Whom it may concern". Maybe Robert the Lionhearted is your role. Live long and prosper.
Roger:
Just wanted to echo what some others have said: your writing has been so damn good lately. Odd as it seems to refer to someone who's having trouble walking as being "at the peak of his powers" . . . it's really true in this case.
Keep up the wonderful work.
Matt
I have always loved your writing. I follow your online journal and I have many of your books at home. This morning I was reading the Esquire article about you when my five year old wandered in. "Cute, mommy!" she said. I was sipping my coffee and reading,not really paying attention. When I looked to see what she was talking about, she was pointing to your picture on the screen. She walked closer and touched your photo with her finger tips. "He's cute, mommy." And I thought, yeah... he is.
The other thing I was thinking as I read this morning was that, if I were a student, I'd give anything to sit in a film studies class taught by you. I've listened to speakers who use aug comm devices before and, to be honest, I don't find the speech difficult at all to understand. You in your recliner teaching a distance learning class... well, a girl can dream, can't she?
You have contributed joy to the world throughout your lifetime and will continue to make others happy for many years Roger.
For a self-professed atheist, you're one of the most spiritually-attuned people around -- quite a paradox!
Ebert: But I am not a self-professed athiest. I am a self-professed non-professor.
http://j.mp/d7svGC
I haven't checked in here in a while, but the Esquire article is making the rounds, and this place is just as yummy as its ever been.
Reading about you and Gene, I'm kind of startled to realize how much media I've consumed that was significantly worse than what you and he have generated. I wonder- if you're not dying any faster than we all are, do you feel you're wasting less of your time now, than you did before the surgery?
This stuff has reminded me to think about what I believe is truly important, and it seems to give me more permission to sweep out the soul-wasting stuff that's really not so important. And I find it comforting to realize that lots of other people are reading this stuff too.
I've said it before, but thanks again.
This may get lost in the hundreds of positive messages, I hope not.
My Ebert, you should get this guy to make you one of these. It is a thumbs up & down tribute to you & Mr Siskel. It would be handy for those times when a thumbs up or thumbs down needs to be emphasized at home.
http://woowork.blogspot.com/2009/12/all-thumbs.html
You have helped so many people decide what movies are worth their time. Even if this is just a silly lift in your struggles today, it's worth a look, to show how you have helped so many people. I hope your internet is back now--how frustrating when you depend on it so much.
Ebert: I should. I love his films, linked from that page, and just tweeted "Stealing Kisses."
How I wish I could have been at Ric's the night your visited. The Esquire piece is a wonderfully written piece about a truly wonderful writer.
Roger,
I hope you are not annoyed that I call you by your first name, but you see I grew up in Chicago and have read your reviews (weekly), books and television show with Gene Siskel for approximately the past 35 years. You really are my friend and someone who has had a great impact on my life. As I near 60 years of age, classical music and films have been the one constant in my life that have brought me endless joy. Reading your reviews and articles, and watching the films you recommend, has brought hour upon hour of enjoyment. And if I may say, in these recent years, the small insight we have seen into your character, personality and courage is such an inspiration to people like me. I am ever so grateful for your being and the gifts that you have shared. You have made my universe so much more rich. Thank you so very, very much.
Glad to find out I haven't seen your last words. You don't look so bad. Now you remind me of Arnold Stang, whose name I probably wouldn't know, if it wasn't for you. Your work has provided me with almost as much enjoyment as the movies you talk about.
Mr. Ebert,
I have had a chronic illness for the past several years that has made it difficult for me to leave the house at times because of my fear of others perceptions of my appearance. Thank you for reminding me how to be a little more brave. Keep rocking out those reviews my man.
Avi
Mr. Ebert,
Thanks for all your wonderful writing. For what it's worth you've made me a little happier.
Sam E.
You look fine, Roger. The Esquire photo doesn't show anything much different than the way you looked when Leonard Maltin interviewed you on TV. The main thing you've lost (and we've lost) is your ability to do live banter.
After reading the Esquire piece and this blog post, I got nostalgic to see some of the old Siskel-Ebert magic, so I Googled your names and found some YouTube clips. There were some great moments. I think the two of you were at your best when you were angry at something and reacting in the moment. There's a funny "outtakes" compilation where you and Siskel take turns mocking each other; another where Siskel launches into a rant about WASPs and you chime in; and of course other clips where you feed off each other's energy while savaging some turkey of a film. Incidentally, the clips reminded me that I have you guys to thank for the fact that I avoided seeing "Son of the Mask." (Sadly, I missed the review that might have saved me from "Jaws: The Revenge.")
I still enjoy you best when you're really panning something. (Your "Transformers" review was really fun to read.) But that sort of stuff is even more fun when it's two people riffing in real time, so it's too bad that we won't get to see more of it.
I'm thankful that the Esquire article provided an opportunity to understand a bit about your health struggles and the life you're leading today. However, it did make things sound a bit as though you're on the brink of death, and I certainly hope that's not the case. Just in the past month, I've been to see "Broken Embraces," "Crazy Heart" and "An Education" on the strength of your reviews. Good work, sir. Please don't stop reviewing movies for a long, long time.
So when can we look forward to your review of the new Polanski film?
for as long as i can remember, i've looked to you for movie guidance (since i was 4). i'm 26 now, and i now find myself looking to you as i would my favorite uncle, looking for the best path forward. thank you for continuing to inspire me. i admire you and love you from afar (japan, that is).
Mr. Ebert, I am so long overdue in expressing my admiration for you - I have watched and read you for years. Even with the most beautiful of movies, your writing about it is often as, if not more, beautiful than the movie itself. Your posting about the Esquire article touched and will be with me for days. You have a wonderful gift, and thank you for continuing to share it with us through your writing.
I just read the Esquire article and it brought me to tears. I'm so inspired by it, and by you, to really be sure to appreciate the little things in life and to work harder to make a positive difference in the world around me. Thank you so much for sharing your story so honestly. I'll be a regular reader of your journal from now on.
I became a serious film student in the early seventies when I was going to college. Along with Pauline Kael, you were one of the first contemporary film critics I began to read on a regular basis. I found your writing more approachable and forgiving than Kael's and I never got the impression you were showing off with your knowledge or writing like most other critics of the day.
Eventually I became a high school English teacher and created an English class based on film as the text. I want to thank you for the help of your 4-star lists, and reviews of the classics. The class is popular and I encourage my 17-18 year old students to read anything you write about the films shown in the class, and as a guide for contemporary films they are about to see. I have to keep reminding my students that taste is not the only way to judge a film. The class often becomes a lesson in aesthetics.
Here is a list of films I show in the 19 week course. Different aspects of film art are covered with each film as an example of that aspect. Any suggestions or comments from my mentor would be appreciated.
The films:
Early Shorts
The Kiss, Strong man... 1894 Edison
The train station, baby. . .1895 Lumiere Bros.
A Trip to the Moon 1902 Melies
The Great Train Robbery 1903 Porter
Un Chen Andalou 1929 Bunuel
Selected Short films 1912-1916 D.W. Griffith
Classical Features:
The General 1926 Buster Keaton
City Lights 1931 Charlie Chaplin
The Public Enemy 1931 Wellman
Bride of Frankenstein 1935 Whales
Citizan Kane 1941 Orson Welles
Casablanca 1943 Bogart/Curtiz
Double Indemnity 1944 Billy Wilder
The Bicycle Thief 1949 De Sica
Singing in the Rain 1952 Kelly/Donen
Seven Samurai 1954 Kurosawa
The Searchers 1956 John Ford
North by Northwest 1959 Alfred Hitchcock
The 400 Blows 1959 Trauffaut
Chinatown 1974 Polanski
Cinema Paradiso 1989 Tornatore
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring 2003 Ki-duk
Loved your article, your full disclosure and your legacy. Be well.
Mr. Ebert - I'm laughing at the response to the comment ahead of mine, as several years I wrote in a zine that one of my favorite things in the world were your one- and zero-star reviews, which were so clinical and exacting in their anger as to be hysterical, that I could forgive what seemed like a tendency to give love to otherwise mediocre movies based on the presence of big breasts. Glad to see I wasn't all that far off. ;)
Anyway I usually don't comment on blog posts when they have this many comments, because generally no one reads them after a certain extent. However, as I know you read all of your comments, I just wanted to share that I teared up when I read the Esquire profile, but not because I felt sad or mournful or anything like that, but because it inspired feelings of awe for all of the possibilities life has to offer and gratitude for the knowledge that I get to share the world with someone like you. I sometimes feel like too many of us use relatively minor difficulties as proof that our lives suck, and so it is always a joy to encounter someone who not only doesn't think life sucks, but delights in every moment of every day.
That, coupled with the fact that it was an incredibly well-written profile about a truly iconic person, is why I have been telling everyone I know that they absolutely have to read it. Thanks for being willing to take part in it, and also for sharing so much of your life with all of us faceless folks on the interwebs.
Reading your blogs, and the Esquire article, unleashes a flood of thoughts. It's rare to see this kind of intimacy with a celebrity.
Most of my comments have already been echoed by many others here. But one that has not...
Reading that article kept reminding me of Abe Vigoda, who has been rumored to be dying for decades now. Some years ago I remember installing a little firefox Add-on called the "Abe Vigoda Deathwatch"--long defunct now. And Abe's still very much alive. I think of the irony of the wonderful Vigoda outliving his own death watch. :)
May Ebert do equally well!
roger,
i may have missed it, but have you ever explained here what caused your ordeal? was it one of those mysteries that strikes without specific reason or doing? nothing hereditary? one of those tragedies (because "ailment" or "sickness" do not suffice) that affects a percentage of people with no apparent reason?
Ebert: I was given radiation treatment for ear infections as a child, and many people given those treatments have developed similar problems.
Roger,
Thank you for continuing to write and share. You are a f---ing bad-ss. 'Nuff said.
"That British story was premature."
You mean they were too quick to announce it?
- Dean Jones
Ebert: The voice is in beta. Oprah may be coming up, however.
Roger,
I have been watching you on tv since the days of Siskel and Ebert, and in particular I became quite fond of your work during my time as an undergrad at University of Colorado. I attended your "Cinema Interruptus" on Fight Club in 2001 at Mackey Auditorium when I was 21 years old. I remember feeling so inspired by your energy and insight, and your dedication to your craft. Much time has passed since I saw you in person; I will be 30 this year, and have since graduated, had a career in New York City, and am currently living in South Africa furthering my studies in Cape Town.
I was touched by the article in Esquire, firstly because I had absolutely no idea you have undergone these surgeries, but mostly because I have always held you in such high esteem, and to see such resilience under such extreme circumstances is remarkable.
Thank you for your contributions and for continuing in your dedication. I have much respect for you and wish you the best of luck.
WITH THIS POST I REQUEST ANOTHER ACADEMY AWARD (IN YOUR NAME) BE GIVEN FROM TIME TO TIME FOR THE FILM WHICH BEST ASSISTS ILL AND/OR DISABLED INDIVIDUALS IN OVERCOMING THEIR BIGGEST CHALLENGES.
I VIEW THE LEVEL OF THIS AWARD AT THE SAME LEVEL AS THE "LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT ACADEMY AWARD".
--------------------------------
Some of the biggest challenges I found after arriving home (from surgery) and after the mind altering medications were cut back was balancing my life like a three legged stool:
1. How to provide for myself & family.
Paying & managing the bills/creditors. This includes providing meaningful continuing medical care for all (non-insurable pre-existing medical conditions are still a 24/7 challenge).
2. How to spend precious limited time. Focus on what matters most. "Saying no". "Letting go". "Good enough".
3. Mental outlook. A 24/7 opportunity or nag.
Stay involved :-)
Head & Neck Cancer Surgery Survivor Alumni early 1990's
Roger,
I have been a longtime fan following you since around 1999. I am 23 years old and a movie lover. I go to the movies at least twice a week and watch 5-6 dvd's a week. I read all of your articles, and watched every single episode you did on at the movies. I went back and watched all the reviews you did with Siskel.
I just now decided to register to your website, even though I read it every single week. The Esquire piece brought me to tears, and reminded me of the way my best friend and I talk about movies. Its a competition between us, if he likes something I don't, or if I love something he doesn't, then it becomes an argument almost. The Esquire piece made me want to register, so you know that I am a loyal fan who loves reading your articles. You have inspired me.
Just a little bit about me. I live in seattle, have a 3 year old daughter, i'm married, and love movies. Some of my favorite movies are Shutter Island, Matchstick Men, Snow Angels, Crash, Bad Lieutenant:Port of Call, Juno, Carlito's Way, Goodfellas, Catch Me If You Can. I could name a lot more, but those are just some movies that I own that come off the top of my head. Hopefully you will respond to this. I look forward to your reviews every single week.
Maybe you could do what movies the oscars snubbed this year, and what performances you thought should have been nominated. I thought Nicolas Cage in Bad Lieutenant gave the best performance of the decade. The fact that it was not nominated is a disgrace to the voters.
Thanks Roger!
Roger, I am a lifelong silent movie fan. Keaton is my favorite and I thought I read in one of your columns that you have not watched much of Lloyd. Maybe I misread. If not, please watch The Freshman at some point. Jobyna Ralston is my favorite actress and she is in it too.
Anyway, I can't help but think of silent movies when you write about your voice. Your column on City Lights years ago (12/21/1997) and silent movies in general (same column) was one of the best columns I have ever read. Absolutely outstanding and you hit the nail on the head speaking about them in the last three paragraphs. Your description of Chaplin on the balcony still sends shivers down my spine.
Thanks for all the years Roger & I look forward to reading your columns for years to come!
I used to correspond with you back around 1984 on the old Compuserve vegetarian recipes discussion board. I remember you wanted vegetarian recipes to help you with weight loss. People would sometimes try to talk with you about movies on that forum, and you gently reminded them that you were only there to talk about the forum topic.
After reading the Esquire article, I'm saddened by the new set of problems you traded in for the old weight problem. I'm glad you are Roger "Full Disclosure" Ebert and share with us the realities of cancer. Life can be like (forgive the analogy!) a bad movie, and I think it's better not to try to sugarcoat it. And people in your situation or similar shouldn't feel they have to be recluses just because they no longer look the way they used to. Despite your difficulties, I am heartened that you are still enjoying life.
P.S. I do think it would inspire others if you would write your autobiograpy. Since much of it is already written, some would be a cut and paste job.
Ebert: My rice cooker adventures were a godsend in the direction of a vegetarian diet. Just throw in good veggies and rice and something to make it exciting, like Szechuan Sizzle Sauce. It may not be gourmet, but I'm of the theory that if it's spicy and good, I'm home.
I'm writing this to thank you. I've followed you through your years on public television up to your postings on your website. What made me finally write you is your statement in the current issue of Esquire. "When I am writing my problems become invisible and I am the same person I always was. All is well. I am as I should be."
I'm 46 years-old and after a long period I've started writing again. I never graduated college and when I left I had a major in fiction writing. I can't give you a clear reason as to why I quit writing because I'm not even sure why. So far it's been a sentence here and a paragraph there. The effects of these small achievements has had a calming effect on me. The feeling is like stirring water in a pitcher. When the water is stirred quick enough, a funnel forms. Take the spoon out and pierce the center of the funnel and the torrent disappears. Finishing a complete sentence or a paragraph gives me the same feeling. My pen is the spoon and my thoughts the torrent.
When I started writing, I came up with a definition of what I think a writer is. "Human beings, in their purest essence, are comprised of thoughts and feelings. That's what I like about writing. When people look at your words, they don't judge based on physical appearance and dress. The mind and heart of the writer is always on trial. Whether the writer is guilty or innocent is up to the reader" Whenever I read anything that you've written, I'm always amazed by the voice that comes through. The words literally speak off the page. Thank you. Thank you for your ability. Thank you for your mind and heart.
Ebert: The useful thing about journalism is that you can't stop. Every newspaperman I know has such a phobia about deadlines it will break through any block. Of course, Cormac McCarthy it's not. But it's in on time. In the case of fiction, I've had little experience, but it's obviously harder. Good fiction, anyway. Like most people, I fancy I could write great bad fiction.
One of the great joys associated with reading your blog is reading the comments of visitors and your responses to them. They often lead me down other paths, to different articles, web pages, youtube videos and in this case over to Radio Caroline which was started as a pirate broadcast by Ronan O'Rahilly back in the 60's. I am having a vision of Johnny Depp shrugging and saying "Pirate" playing in my head right now. I had forgotten about this station (I listened to it during my all to brief time in London) and was delighted to find I could once again enjoy it over the web. I thought your readers might appreciate a link to the site's rather interesting back story:
http://www.radiocaroline.co.uk/#history_part_1.html
and a link to the online station:
http://radiocaroline.servemp3.com/
Thanks for yet another great recommendation.
Ebert: The soundtrack of my life, if you also roll in a little BBC 3 and WGBU at http://j.mp/aAePdE
I am one of those people who has trouble looking at your current pictures.
At the same time, I am so full of admiration for your grace and stamina.
I like your line about dying. Of course, we are all dying by inches every day.
Regarding your self image, I am reminded of your comment about Arnold Schwarzenegger's self possession...when he was caught picking his nose by a child. You know who you are and you don't require external approval to maintain your own approval.
I admire you so.
I made my comment about your eyes smiling before reading the Esquire profile, and Jones says the exact same thing! How about that?
Thank you for opening up your life to Mr. Jones, even moreso than you do for this journal, and allowing us to have the fantastic piece that resulted. As a young 20-something male I treasure your observations and experiences immensely, and I'm always so easily able to relate them to my own life. It also helps that we almost always agree on which movies good.
If you can tolerate even more slavish praise, a friend of mine has written a very nice article about what your work means to him:
http://www.popbunker.net/2010/02/roger-ebert/
I am so sorry about what happened, but I'm proud of the way you're so matter-of-fact and taking the high road. You have more courage than I ever will. You're my favorite film critic, and I agree with you 95% of the time. ["The Hindenburg" is a guilty pleasure of mine. You can't argue that at least the production design was fantastic. lol]
Nice to see such a high number of comments when people are not picking fights on here :>)
As opposed to discussions and debates.
Thoroughly enjoyed the Esquire piece and understand your comment about your hair in the photo. Too perfect for you, used to it being more unruly. That is just a little vanity thing about aging. Ego is healthy and strong. Love the glimpses into your life and the classic long time couple story of the wedding photos. Just because you can't speak doesn't mean you don't drive your wife crazy being yourself sometimes.
And yes, you and Gene were born to be Siskel and Ebert. I'm so happy that statement made it into the interview. You read another writer's work and parse it thoroughly as only a fellow professional could.
As always, thank you for creating this space and welcoming us all into it. I saw Shutter Island today. I expected it to be scary and was surprised.
Dear Roger:
I read the Esquire article today and for the first time found your blog. I am a 46 year old New Jersey lawyer and I have loved the movies ever since my mom showed me "Now Voyager" and "Wuthering Heights" when I was in 1st grade. I remember being mesmerized by a theatrical viewing of "Gone with the Wind" when I was 13 - that was in 1976. I grew up watching you and Gene Siskel and was greatly saddened when his time came to slip to the other side - wherever that may be. I took heart in your pressing on - continuing to write and review movies. I will not look at a movie unless and until I have read your review. If I have been moved by a film, your comments and insights illuminate my own shared but unspoken feelings and appreciations regarding the piece of art I have viewed. And that, in and of itself, is also moving.
Last year, I took my seven-year-old son to see the movie "Up" (despite the uneven marketing trailers) because, after reading your review, I told him "we have to go see this - Roger Ebert gave it 4 stars" .... to date, it is one of my son's favorite films. Now, whenever we discuss going to see another movie he asks, "What does Roger Ebert say about it, Mom?"
Anyway ... I wanted to tell you that you have been my hero for so many years ... I was touched by the Esquire piece but was more inspired by your comment of it .... it takes so much courage to share yourself the way you do for your great audience of readers ... I can only pray that you and your work continue to draw in more of us and that others are as appreciative as I that you exist ... I hope that as long as any of us remain on this earth, we try to find joy in each day given to us - as you and your lovely wife do.
Thank you for the gift of you .... :)
Dear Mr. Ebert,
The photo was beautiful, the article one every writer should read, and this blog, this writerly-living you have deepened even further into is full of dignity and joie de vivre. Once, when I was young and thinking I wanted to be a writer, I told my mother that staring into that screen and typing as fast and hard as I could was a lot like sex; she said, "Dear, if I found something that felt a lot like sex, I'd do it a whole lot more." Your writing over the years has fed my secret (a whole nation and world of us!) movie-love which really is the love of storification; I am a better thinker and writer because of you. I hope I am a better audience and reader.
The fact that your first allegiance to the Esquire article is the great writing it was, well, if I didn't love you before this, I'd love you now.
Keep writing. For all of us. And a shout out to your partner, Chaz.
Ebert: Hey, and a shout-out to your mom! With a mom with her quick wit, you were born seven points ahead.
Dear Roger:
Actually, I think it’s ratter unfair writing to you now, alter the article at Esquire’s, and not having done it before every time one of your writings led me to discover a film I wouldn’t notice otherwise. A few recent examples: Dark City, Knowing, The Hurt Locker… Not only I enjoyed them, I also talked about them to the people around me (friends, my brother, the people at work) and made them discover them too). Also I discovered Cormac McCarthy thanks to you, beginning with the Road (I cried with the last page, and I also told the people I know about him. Incidentally, my brother has called me while I’m writing this to tell me what a great movie is the road; and it’s true, Blood Meridian is simply amazing, reminds me of the work of the great latinamerican writers, like Vargas Llosa o Gabriel García Marquez).
I disagree other times, but I think is logical.
This is not a excuse, is one explanation:
I’m spanish, from Santander, in northen Spain (a country until recent times very closed to the rest of the world), and I love movies since I was a boy. Specially classic movies. I’m very found of Japanese, Russian, German and French Classic Cinema, and I totally love Silent movies since I can’t remember (in the eighties they use to be played in the Spanish second public tv chanel, the afternoons, when I was in my teens. Now I don’t see tv at all, only to watch dvds). And I like to watch the movies in their original language (a rarity in this country), with subtitles in English or French.
The thing is, I can understand very well English and French, and even speak then, but… but… I not use to write a lot long texts, even in Spanish. To me Internet is not for chatting, but for looking for knowledge.
So it’s my fault. Writing this to you it’s very hard to me, but because I don’t have the discipline to do it more often.
Briefly, I don’t know if it’s the right word, but I envy you.
Don’t get me wrong. I know the stuff. My mother died of cancer at 52. Nearly 2 years of (ultimately) futile and devastating medical procedures. She died in front of me and my little brother. I don’t know how I would endure it if I were the one with the unlucky number. I don’t think as strong as my mother were.
But it wasn’t that what really hurts me. It was her whole life. Being a woman in this country, until recent times, was being a zero on the left. A mother and a housewife. Nothing more. Watching silly things on tv the time left.
I watched some films with my mother. Actually, I made her watch them. Dead Poets Society, The Bridges of Madison County, Vertigo, The Lion in Winter, to say a few. I remember watching Taxi Driver (one of my favourite movies) with her in the Hospital, at Valdecilla.
A few times she told me she would have like to study when she was a girl. She even went to the school for adults, but my father really didn’t like the idea.
To make a long story short, I always wanted to write.
You made me realize what it takes:
Hard work every day.
Thank you, and I apologize for my English.
ANGEL ORDAX MARTI
SANTANDER – CANTABRIA
SPAIN
Ebert: You have created such a portrait of your mother in my mind. Your writing is like painting.
Roger, I sometimes disagree with your movie reviews and a bit more frequently disagree with your politics. Still, you're the first critic I look to when trying to decide whether a film is worth seeing. Also, I admire your courage in continuing to write about subjects unrelated to film. I thought your article about Chicago losing the 2016 summer olympics bid was fantastic.
Guess all I can do is echo the above sentiments and say thank you. I look forward to reading many more reviews from you.
I'm not even sure if you're still reading these comments, but the Esquire article, and your response to it here, moved me to speak out for once.
You wrote that the greatest success we can achieve is to bring happiness into the world, for ourselves and for others. From reading the responses to this blog, I'd say you've succeeded.
Even if you never see the words, I want to say how much you've inspired me. Not just to write more, but to live more.
Dear Mr. Ebert:
I saw the Esquire article and was very moved. It reminded me of why I got into Journalism and writing in the first place. Yours and Gene's articles in the Trib and Sun-Times were(and still are) the gold standard for movie reviewing. Anyway, back in 1992, I attended Columbia College down on State Street, and wrote an article for their magazine called "Roger and Me".(Yes,the title was a steal,but good writers steal, bad ones imitate),about my month long attempt to get an interview with you, including staking out your screening room. I was wondering if you ever saw it, and if not, would you like a copy?
Dear Mr. Ebert, thank you so much for giving us an opportunity to see past the brilliant movie critic into the life of the human being Roger Ebert. Intelligent, wickedly funny, courageous!
For years now, you have enhanced my enjoyment of all movies I have watched. I might not always have agreed with you, but I have always enjoyed your reviews and have had many a laugh while reading them. Sometimes, your reviews have had an almost therapeutic effect - laughter, they say, is the best medicine. For all of that and for enriching my intellect with your insights, much obliged. All the best and my boundless admiration for you and your lady wife.
Dear Roger: Just because you've written about your life till you feel like an egotist doesn't mean those of us who haven't read your every word wouldn't mind curling up with a book version of that life. I've watched you & Gene since the original PBS version of Sneak Previews (I was a wee lad) and caught you & him in whatever TV was arranged around you until there was no more. I tried a couple times to watch the thing Disney tried to foist on us post-Roeper - ugh! I sure miss your mug on the little box, Rog! Thanks for being such an amiable tourguide to the cinema. I've learned from you!
yours, Glenn Ingersoll
Every time people write to you, about you, I don't. I always feel that you must know how well-loved you are, because they all say it, and that I don't have anything to say that's sufficiently different from what anyone else says to make it of interest to you or them.
But you are very special to me anyway. I never watched you on TV (I don't watch it), but I have an enormous, weird dependency on your writing. It's as though I don't know what I think about a movie until I've read your review. Then I have a starting point from which to figure out what >I
I loved it when you said you're a Gemini and you contain multitudes. Me, too.
And a lot of mine appreciate many of yours (despite your middle name, I still think you hold some in reserve). Thank you, Roger.
This is my first post on your blog, Roger, but I've been addicted for some time now. I use the word "addicted" because also being a recovering person, I was especially moved by your recent blog on your recovery. I appreciate the Esquire article for better informing why you are pretty sure you will never drink again, better explaining the breaking of your anonymity.
5:00 PM on Saturdays was sacred time for Siskel and Ebert, so I've been a fan for many years. I was moved to find out that we had more similarities than a love of movies.
I have to say how much I especially love your sense of humor. I've never forgotten the line from your review of "Old Boy" - "I'm pretty sure an octopus was harmed in the making of this film":-)
You have always been my favourite reviewer and continue to write great reviews every weekend. I am 16 and it's very interesting to me how many of my friends don't give a rats ass about the reviews that movies get, it is also the same with my parents. I always try to convince people to go see the better movie rather than the one making the most money with the biggest stars. I highly enjoyed reading the wonderfully written Esquire piece done on you. It added a new depth to the way I view you as a person and not just another writer with educated opinions.
You've got to be kidding. How have I never read your blog before?
I'm somewhat picky and all over the board about blogs I'll bookmark--but wow talk about an article that made me interested in reading a blog (and its comments!)
(Plus much like Julia Sweeney's adventure into blogging, no worries about lapses into religious fervor.)
Cheers.
~Matt
Roger,
You know, maybe Mr. Jones' story seemed so good because I suspect it wasn't so different from what you might write about Mr. Ebert: something kind, a little funny and unflinchingly honest. As a writer for a small paper, I've always looked to your work for inspiration. It's something I shared with Michael Phillips once at a fellowship. He quietly nodded and told me that he'd heard similar ovations from so many journalists. I'd bet Mr. Jones is one of them.
All my best,
Dan
Roger:
I call you that because, like millions of others, I feel like I know you. Through those all-important words.
I read this on the website, and took off to grab a copy of Esquire. Not the easiest thing to do in Small Town, Kentucky. Nabbed it on the 3rd stop, and 1st try was a book store.
I read the article and tucked it away and read again today and came back to reread your words now with the article in my head. It boils to to the words to me, just the words. In print.
I love the speech program for you and Chaz, how important to have that opportunity to say Good Night and I love you in what you hear as your own voice. But I hear your voice with every word of yours that I read.
I was not a huge TV watcher, enough though to know your voice well, your laughter and anger and nuance and exasperation. I could hear when a film excited you or you wanted people to stop and pay attention. That lingers today and it is important. I hear you.
I live in a small town these days. It's not like the single days in the bigger city. I don't see many films and even with Netflix and cable and all that I am not a huge watcher, my life doesn't allow it. But I am a huge reader. I married later in life, both of us older, like you and your wife, and there were years with the 1st child that we agreed to one gift only and mine was my Roger Ebert book.
I read every word, often more than once. They are my mirror into others lives. They are reminders of other worlds. 2010 by my bed (with the silver numbers wearing off already, what's up with that? And smaller print and my poor older eyes!) 2009 in my bathroom. 2006 in the Garage of Shame where I grab my two cigarettes a day in the winter. A couple by my computer for trivia purposes, the rest in "mom's" bookcase, with the voices I turn to when I need to hear friends. Old books, old friends.
Your careful writing, the interviews, the festivals, and now the essays and blags, they are your voice and they fill my life on a daily basis. Thank you for that, it is a great gift. You have no idea that you are such a good friend to a housewife in Kentucky, but I suspect that Chaz isn't surprised in the least. I am not one to write fan letters but the article and then your subsequent entry here AND the passing of the one other recent literary voice I miss, Dominick Dunne, made me wonder why I was hesitating? So here is your fan letter, I guess, from a 52 year old who loves your voice, your words. I hear them daily and will, for years to come. There are days they are what make me smile, or keep me on the 'straight and narrow' so to speak. My familiar, my Ebert books. It is a fine legacy. You share so much with so many but for me, it's a been a good deal. Thank you, Marty.
Roger,
Really enjoyed the article in Esquire. I've always followed your reviews as I've always been a student of film, but lately, have also followed your tweets.
Thank you for the humor, the insights and the openness to take part in an interview that's so intimate.
As long as you keep writing i'll keep reading, thank you
Take care,
Amy
Mr. Ebert,
I have written to you a number of times over the years and you have always replied. Furthermore I NEVER see a movie before I check your review if available. You are a truly brave and wonderful person. This article and your response has only increased my admiration and sincere caring for you. You continue to entertain and inform; and this is indeed appreciated by your audience. I know your life is not as pleasant as it once was for you; but please understand that you continue to enrich our lives immeasurably as you always have. That goes a long way, sir.
Ebert: Several people have commented here about getting notes from me. That makes me a little embarrassed, because I also know how many people I have not written to.
Robb
Like many others here, I hope sometime you might write more of Chaz and your life together. Did a mutual love of movies bring you together?
Ebert: Our love of each other brought us together, but Chaz is a great and deep lover of the movies.
I will write an entry about her. I have been putting it off. I'm a little scared. It's one subject I don't know if I can do justice to.
I think you look great! You look proud and comfortable with yourself. Good for you.
FATE slew him, but he did not drop;
She felled—he did not fall—
Impaled him on her fiercest stakes—
He neutralized them all.
She stung him, sapped his firm advance,
But, when her worst was done,
And he, unmoved, regarded her,
Acknowledged him a man.
Emily Dickinson always says it better than I ever could. Life kicks everyone around, sometimes real hard, but not everyone comes out of it in one piece. It's given you a few scars, but your soul is intact. That's what counts.
I also have to say, I really like Chaz, she sounds like a force of nature. I'm glad you found each other.
As for what your spoken "last words" were. It doesn't matter. You can still write, and written words are just as real and rich as anything you could say out loud. So, in actuality, you haven't said your last words by a long shot.
This may sound a little corny or phony, but the article really made me realize how much I appreciate Roger Ebert as both a film critic and a person. A part of my weekly routine is to "read the reviews." This includes glancing at rottentomatoes, reading the posts of my favorite critics, and watching At The Movies clips online. I always look forward to Roger's input; it's often the best part of the routine.
When Roger dies, part of my routine will die with him. Who will replace Roger in my routine? Ultimately, no one. Though you might try, you can't replace Roger. Roger is the sum of his experiences, and he brings something unique to each post. You can't replicate that.
Yet, the loss of Roger will mean more than the loss of part of my routine. In a way, it will mean the loss of a friend.
Sure, I don't technically know Roger, I've never met him in person, and I've barely responded to any of his blog posts. (To be fair, I just find the sea of comments overwhelming. If I were to try to offer any meaningful input, I would soon find myself struggling to unglue myself from the screen. Internet addiction, you know?) On the other hand, in reading Roger's posts, I feel like I'm conversing with an old friend or something. A part of Roger's soul comes through the writing, and I connect with it. Maybe this response is irrational, but for me it is also incorrigible.
I hope Roger's death is a long way off, and I hope that Roger continues to find happiness in his writing. I especially hope that his health situation improves. Yet, as sure as the rising sun, death will eventually come. And for me, Roger's death will not just mean the loss of a routine; in a strange way, it will mean the loss of a friend. A friend I never knew.
P.S. That one poster above (DaniEl Ben Freeman) was a horrible spokesperson for Christianity, huh? Reading about Roger Ebert, you wouldn't know he is not a Christian. I'm not God, but that has to count for something.
In my last post, I forgot to add the punchline. The punchline is this: I hope you (Roger Ebert) realize that many of your fans really do appreciate and care for you. I suppose the only way for us to express this sentiment is through our writing. Hopefully it comes through.
I haven't seen a movie in the past 20 years where i did not seek out your review prior, to see if it was worth my hard earned scratch , or post, to see if my internal review bore any resemblance to your ever-nuanced takes.
Movies are an extremely important part of my life, and by extension, your work has made that part of my life ever richer and more rewarding.
Thank you!
Sincerely,
Craig Thomas
Cleveland, OH
Roger... I really enjoyed the Esquire piece. In particular I enjoyed learning that you have a permanent smile that draws smiles from passers-by. Perfect.
I didn't pick up the physical magazine, but I hope they killed some ads to make room for the piece. I will never forget the story you tell about your Eddie Balchowski column. Your story, like Balchowski's, must be told!
The Esquire piece was good, but I like this one more:
------------------------------------------------------------------------
… Looking back
He was a young guy, in his twenties, and he had just joined the Chicago Sun-Times, my old paper.
Herman Kogan, the paper’s book editor, had a lot to do with getting the paper to hire him.
The paper was afire then with bright, young men and women and they fit in comfortably with some of us older staff members who clung to romantic visions of what we wanted that paper to be.
It was still fun working for the Sun-Times in the early 60s. With almost an evangelic zest there were campaigns against corruption, disease, hunger, injustice.
Columnist Mike Royko, up from the city’s streets, was a star for the Daily News—the Sun-Times sister paper—and he wrote about creepy things creepy people were doing to us and readers loved him.
The staffs were younger than they had been in a long time and they were good.
Like the new guy, Roger Ebert, who Kogan helped get hired, they were bright, skilled and energetic. It showed in what they did in the paper and it looked good. (In the space of just several years the paper would win five Pulitzer Prizes. Ebert would get one of them.)
Ebert worked off the city desk when he first joined the paper. He came up from Urbana-Champaign where he had been the editor of the Daily Illini, the university’s paper, and since 14 had worked for the local dailies.
He was a seasoned newspaperman and it showed. At any one time, it was noticed, he would have several stories in the works—almost done, near done, done.
The Sun-Times editorial department—city desk, sports, financial, copy desk, picture desk, features—was in a single large room, the staffs desk to desk. It was as lively at night as it was during the day.
Ebert had been sent back to features—my department—on loan to help fill the department’s huge copy needs. It wasn’t the first time we had met. Earlier, we shook hands and chatted at a party at a coworker’s house where I learned for the first time he had just joined the paper.
After that, we hardly spoke. He was busy at the city desk, and there was little crossover with us in features until he was transferred.
He worked first for Midwest, the paper’s Sunday local section. Midwest editor Dick Takeuchi, in his own way, passed on his first high compliment to the new man: he edited a piece Ebert turned in, came over to me, copy in hand, and said, “He’s good.”
People on the staff liked him. He was quick and funny and talented and his work readily won the regard of colleagues and readers.
In those days, we used a saloon—O’Rourke’s up on North Ave.—at night as a gathering place. We’d sit around and mostly talk about ourselves and what we did that day. Ebert had a lot of friends and he held court. He told funny stories and would swap limericks—a lot of them colorful—with all comers. Large portraits of Yeats and Dylan Thomas and George Bernard Shaw looked down on us. Dylan’s eyes were intense and lips pursed as if he was to say something, well, intense.
I got to know Ebert better and we became friends. There was more to him than stories and limericks and instant recall of good lines of Yeats and Dylan.
He took seriously what he did, worked hard, was devoted to the paper, and, like the rest of us, loved every minute of it.
Not long after, Eleanor Keen, dear, dear Ellie, said she had had enough. She wanted to quit as film critic and go home and clean closets. She told me this after work one day over tea.
Ebert was the natural heir.
New to the job, he came out like a rousing Hollywood premiere.
He liked the movies, wrote about them with humor and knowledge and perception and set a standard for himself and his readers that made people who liked the movies like them more and people who disagreed, read him.
Part of his job, too, was meeting the makers of movies and writing about them.
The stories were good and in most every Sunday paper there was Ebert meeting Robert Mitchum—his all-time favorite—Groucho Marx, Mel Brooks, Stallone, John Wayne, Liv Ullmann, Charlie Bronson, Clint Eastwood, John Belushi and others, many others.
To those of us who liked movies and the people who make them, it was like having Sunday company.
Too much later, Ebert has put those stories into a book, “A Kiss Is Still A Kiss.” The title is from the song, “As Time Goes By.” (Movie buffs will know where THAT’S from.)
This is not a review of the book or a review of Ebert.
It’s a recollection of a friend of many years and how pleased I am he’s my friend and that he has written a book I like.
Robert F. Zonka
The New Buffalo Times, November 22, 1984
----------------------------------------------------------
Ebert: Dear, dear Milo.
Your father was instrumental in winning me that job over several competitors. He was my good and great friend, my mentor, my confessor, my counselor, my compass.
It was he who said, "When you tell a joke that diminishes anybody, it diminishes me." And "On a newspaper, when the editor says march, you gotta march." And whenever anyone was coming to his house: "I'll light a candle in the window." And he told everyone, "God love ya."
I was talking about him yesterday with Jon Anderson. He has been gone more than 20 years, and his friends still talk about him all the time. Zonka, we say. Zonka. Zonka.
He would be so proud of you, city manager, investment guru, family man. (Maybe a little astonished.)
The first year my Companion (now my Yearbook) came out, I dedicated it to Bob. My editor asked me a year later who I wanted to dedicate the second one to. "Bob," I said. "Bob, for as long as it comes out."
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I have been an admirer of your work for a long time, ever since I was young when I spent a good deal of my teenage summers (I'm now 26) at the movies; seeing everything I could, even sneaking into movies like "Summer of Sam" when I as under age. These were the summers of "The Matrix" and "Mars Attacks", and "Mystery Alaska". I saw them all. I saw and have seen so many movies my family and friends used to say I was going to be the next you, and I always took that as a great complement; even though I think sometimes it might not have been such, seeing as people also used to pock fun of my then portly physique which could have been cause for a totally different comparison - these however where not my parents and their friends, for the most part anyway. When I was 19 I was greatly overweight at 230 pounds, I was overweight from the age of 12 to 19. I remember reading about when you where forced to make your own life changes due to your health and could not help but remember the comparison people had drown in my teens - though my weight loss was motivated for different reasons - Now at 26 I am much healthier and down to 155 - I have been maintaing my fitness for seven years running. If you would like to see a photo of me at 19 I can send it.
I am a proud collage grad who finished collage with a 3.5 GPA, and always did my own work. Yes, I got a degree in film production and analysis, I also studied broadcasting and photography (My website is my life); and I will have you know that I know who Lee Marvin is - I rolled my eyes and when you wrote of your students who didn't. I don't understand these film students who don't know their history. I grew up watching movies like "Cat Ballou ( I always had a crush on Jane Fonda growing up, I still do when I see that movie) and "Zorro, the Gay Blade" - probably not the best example. I us to watch "Nick at Nite" when I was younger too, back when they showed "I Love Lucy", "the Dick Van Dyke Show", "The Bob Newhart Show", and "Bewitched". I still remember asking my mom if I could stay up until 11 to watch "Bewitched". These movies and shows at that time where just as much a part of my life as shows like "The Fresh Prince of Belair", "Tiny Toons" and "Loony Toons". I have seen "Citizen Kane" a number of times, even with your commentary track on. And one of my all time favorite quotes is from "La Grand Illusion" - "You can't see boarders, their man made, nature could care less."
I have been reading your recent blogs regarding your contempt for the idiocy of American youth culture and agree with your discourse mostly to a "T". I also share your distaste for Michael Bay moves and movies of that ilk (Did not see Transformers 2 and am damn proud of it!). I find myself at odds with others in my generation, who don't understand my point of view or my since of humor - both of which are routed in a love of obscurer selections from all sorts of places, and being well read and versed in pop culture/film - I remember picking up "The Ruling Class" from my school library because I loved the description on the back "Peter O'Toole plays a man who thinks he's Jesus......combines serous drama with musical numbers and social satire of the british aristocracy" - I remember reading this and thinking "O I'm so there". I am still only one of about four people I know who have seen this movie, the other three only saw it because I mad them watch it, they all shared similar sensibilities however, so they also liked it - one is a professor, who is four years older than me (As are a lot of my friends) who now has the film on his list of movies his students can write term paperers on. People always get get frustrated at me because I do not take things at face value I "Always over analyze" or "Think of things too deeply" as most people tell me; especially when it comes to film and photography - I'm also a photographer.
I am sorry if I have indulged a tad in this litter and overwritten, I do hope you read it. I know I seem to have gotten a little reverie into the letter, but that was only to illustrate my point. That, me and people like me are out there - in my generation; and though it is unfortunate that we our a minority, or made to seem like it simply due to how many more "Vocal" people wast their time on message boards while people like you and I realize they are a giant wast of time, and that they solve nothing - but to complement a vicious cycle of wasted time and space (cyber and human) - populated mostly by people who don't care about having a basses for an argument that goes further than "I'm in-tilted to have no basses for my argument". I guess sadly the rational people seem to stay silent on the Internet and thus our opinions are invisible because we realize how pointless these arguments are to entertain.
I have always intended to write a letter to you stating my affection for your work, and as odd as it might sound to you, you are on my short list of people I have always wanted to meet.
I share your sentiments, for the most part, on what constitutes good and bad cinema, and I keep a file of yours and other peoples quotes on film, journalism, photography ect that I reference often and hope to use as a guide when I make my own films, and when I write. One of my favorite quotes of yours is "A civilized man is a person whose curiosity outweighs his prejudices...." I co favorit uld not agree more, and believed so even before I saw that quote from you're review of "Dances with Wolves" - one of my favorite films. As a world traveler/photographer currently working as an english teacher in South Korea (Sadly I could never find a job as a film critic, or a decent paying job in the Biz - I Would still like to make it someday though.) I use that as my motto - I strongly believe that ones convictions must come from first hand knowledge; you must acknowledge that everyone has prejudice, and get past it in order to overcome and hopefully accept and realize your convictions where either true or false - and if false - change accordingly, unfortunately it seems like american culture does not want us to think that deeply anymore.
Well, in closing I want to thank you for being such a positive influence in my life regarding my progress as a writer and studier of film. I always looked towards your reviews as a bouncing point for the structure of my own and it was with that in mind that I wanted to share this link with you:
Isolationism in "Dead Man Walking"
http://www.filmint.nu/?q=node/62
- That is a link to a published film essay I wrote for "Film international" that I wanted to share with you, I think you might find the take on the film interesting, as I disprove Robbins quoted "Even handedness" through his camera placements, that leads to a much more subliminal message - one that you would have to be overly critically looking for to see, even though once you realize it, it is there in broad daylight :) - I would love to here your thoughts.
- If you are interested in seeing any of my photographic work it can be found here: www.theworldiexposed.com
Keep up the good fight sir, I wish you all the best, know that that there are still some decent ones left - we just have to figure out how tot take over..... any thoughts?
Thank you for your time,
P.S Have you thought at all about collecting these blog entires of yours into a book? I think it would be a great idea.
Oh and not that I expect you to remember this but I wrote you very poorly written e-mail when I was 15 about why you where wrong about the South Park movie. I also was the one who wrote the "Devil's Dictionary" entry for your new yorker contest, sadly I didn't win the dime :( - but I thank you greatly for writing me back and letting me know you got the joke, it made my day.
again, best wishes, and great article in Esquire, looks like I have more books and films to look up after reading the piece.
Dustin Griffin
(U.S Address) 5847 Lakemont Drive, Roanoke, VA 24018
(Current Address) Buk-gu, Chilgok, Daegu, South Korea.
(540) 469-4288
dfg1983@gmail.com
www.theworldiexposed.com
Ebert: Can I say that is one great comment?
Roger- You wrote that "Low self-esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you." As a survivor of childhood trauma, I can tell you that low self-esteem involves believing in the worst that you think about yourself.
CHAZ is so f'ing cool. You are a lucky man
I liked your picture in Esquire. To me you actually look quite well, even healthy, considering what you've been through. Your eyes are bright and lively and your skin has a nice tone. As you mention, your hair is neatly combed and admirably abundant (jealous!). Yes, it's a very good picture indeed. I see a photograph of a cancer survivor. Accent on the last word.
The photo on your twitter page is the haunting one. I believe you mentioned that it was a self portrait, taken just before your surgery. I get the urge to look over my shoulder when I see it. I get the feeling that an unknown and menacing thing may be approaching. Of course it was, for you. So it's perfectly natural to see the worry etched on your visage, even fear, but I also see courage. Of course, fear is a necessary ingredient in the formula for courage. Fear is a fierce lion ready to tear us to shreds. Courage is it's cage.
The removal of your mandible has left an indentation in your jawline. When I was very young, I had the opposite issue. My mandible had grown out of proportion and created a large bulge outwards on one side. This was caused by my fibrous dysplasia, a very rare bone disease (the character in the movie Mask had a severe version FD). Thank God the internet didn't exist when I was young or the pictures would have scared my poor mother to death. I mean the pictures of what could happen when someone has this disease. In comparison, I was very fortunate. For me, my jaw simply became locked down for long stretches of time and I had debilitating pain. Eventually I had a surgery and awoke to the taste of blood. I ran my tongue over the harp strings of suture lines that run up and down the inside of my mouth and started to cry at the unfairness of it all. I was very young you see and the lion knew how to get out of the cage.
Of course, when you are young it's not the extreme inconvenience of illness, or even the pain that undermines you. Going to school with a facial deformity was the heavier burden. That's how we think when we're young. Such fools as we. What I didn't like was being the focus of so much scrutiny. Even today after all these years it will effect me. Not in regards to myself, but in regards to other people. Let's say for example if I was standing in line at a book signing, where our very own Roger Ebert was autographing his latest book. Let's say I notice someone staring at him. I don't mean staring at him the celebrity, because I would probably have the same look on my face, I mean staring at his condition. I mean scrutinizing one of the burdens of his life. Reading his diary as it were. I would take great personal offense to that and if that person caught my eye they would know it. This feeling rises up in me with lightning speed, I get a hard look in my eye and my cheeks get red. I'm angry. Especially when it happens to children who are dealing with a deformity caused by illness.
Chris Jones wrote a very good article. He's a talented guy. However, I feel he steps wrong when he suggests you have been struck a mortal blow. He never quite says this, but in my opinion he hints around it. I don't get that impression at all. You have been struck, to be sure, but you haven't been struck down. So what else is new. Life is full of blows. The older you get the more you realize this is true. It's not unnatural, it's what's called acquiring history. When we become overly focused on it, that's when we get in trouble. In other words, it's not the blow that puts cracks in our foundations, but all those reverberations we allow afterwords.
I remember an article about Elton John. He was talking about the throat surgery he required after he lost his own voice while on tour. He too was struck. Silenced. For a singer this must have been a frightening time. He was fortunate to recover fully. He talked about how the surgery changed his voice, it became deeper and more resonant. He could no longer hit the high notes or sing the old standards the way he used to. Now there are two roads a person can go down during a time like that. He could cling to the ol' use to be person, or look ahead to the new. Elton John said that he was rediscovering his own music. He had been singing those songs for so many years that there was nothing new in them anymore. He had explored them fully. But now, with his new voice, old songs became new territory to explore. In short, he gained a new perspective on his own life in music.
That's what I see when I read your present writing Roger. A joyful rediscovery of old familiar memories. I see a contented man, a happy man. I mean happy and contented down deep where the roots are. I think you're smiling in that Esquire picture. I can see it in your eyes.
Ebert: I know people in wheelchairs who say the people who stare don't bother thema s much as those who look away.
I'm still thinking about your videos I linked at the end of "The London Perambulator." You have no idea what a gift that was.
ok, on another note....
Why do you tear the sheets out of your notebook and throw them on the floor? Why don't you just flip the page over?
Ebert: It's dark, and in the lather of the moment I sometimes write on the same page twice.
Roger --
You are my favorite film critic, and an amazingly talented writer.
You are also someone whom I find personally inspiring.
Thank you.
My rating of Roger Ebert: 5 stars & two thumbs up.
(My blog post about this profile of you is linked above...)
This quiet reader but constant admirer of your work over the years, Roger, just read the Esquire article and came away with a feeling of bittersweet acceptance. What's there to do since to allow resentment...well, it's been better stated by others above. I keep learning from you as I have for years.
As a kid, I used to stay up late to watch Siskel and Ebert. I went to the library to read your columns taking my notebook with me. Can I even begin to list the names you introduced me to? The exceptional films I continue to seek out because of them? I was an immigrant family's first daughter - a household in which English was decidedly a second language. Film was the introduction of world culture, ideas and revolution that all began for me as a nine year old staying up late and looking for something interesting to watch. Thank you for that.
As for the picture, it's you. Those eyes remain the same. They are still hungry for good film and ideas and haven't changed. They remain the same and they are what I noticed. I'm glad to have you around and I welcome the sight of your face.
Great article, amigo.
Ebert: Regardless of the language spoken at home, movies can work as an introduction to the greater world. They did for me.
Hello, Roger!
I think that the thing that startled me the most about the Esquire picture of you is the shape of your mouth. It's now somewhat puckered in a Cupid's bow (as opposed to a Clara Bow) instead of the long thin line I remembered from TV. Curiously, the lack of a lower jaw doesn't look as odd as I thought it might -- then again (and you can hit me for saying this; actually, no you can't as I'm in St. Paul and you're not), I always thought your lower jaw looked kinda weird anyway.
Now that I've finished picking on your old jaw, I was wondering:
1) Do you have problems with your lips getting dry and chapped, being as your mouth doesn't shut the way it once did?
2) If so, would you be interested in an espresso-flavored lip balm? Or perhaps a latté-flavored one? There's a shop in Lanesboro, Minnesota called "Essence of Lanesboro" and the proprietor, Peter Bilkey, is a world-class chemist who makes his own soaps, lip balms, lotions and other goodies. (I'm sure that for you, he'd do a custom order, so if there are any tastes or scents you like, let him know.) If you're interested, here's his contact information:
ESSENCE of Lanesboro
100 Parkway Ave S
Lanesboro, MN 55949
Phone: 507-467-2800
Email: pbilkey@acegroup.cc
Anyway, I must go soak my head before I head for bed, so good night and pleasant dreams!
Ebert: Yeah, my lips get dry. I like Rosebud Lip Salve. Rose...bud...
http://j.mp/bEtwp9
"...the lather of the moment.." - my 1st goal is to use that in a sentence next week. My 2nd goal is not to get slapped immediately afterwords.
I've yet to read the Esquire piece, but I was curious whether you've had a chance to eat at Alinea or talk with its chef/owner Grant Achatz. He lost his sense of taste after chemo in 2007; I don't know the extent to which it's returned since.
Through the Esquire article, I came to your list of great movies and was disappointed as I scrolled through the list because I had seen so few of them.
Then there's Fitzcarraldo.
I watched the film because I was absolutely entranced by The Frame's musical tribute to the movie, also called Fitzcarraldo. There is a studio rendition of the song, but I find it doesn't have the same passion as the live version that appears on The Roads Outgrown. This version moves me due to the haunting violin work of Jan Hrubý who joined the band for this particular performance. It left me no choice but to see the film.
Unfortunately, while I appreciated the movie, it didn't inspire me to watch it over and over again as I want to listen to the song.
As to relating back to the Esquire article, please forgive my rambling route. My thought process is much like letting someone lose on Wikipedia and comparing which topic they started with to where they finished... I found The Frames due to the movie Once and was surprised to find out that lead singer Glen Hansard was also in the movie the Commitments. He was also a friend of Jeff Buckley who I name as my favorite musical artist. I would go as far as to say that Buckley's cover of Leonard Cohen's 'Halellujah' is the quintessential version, but I am admittedly biased. I find Cohen to be a masterful lyricist, but I almost couldn't sit through his own performance of the song on Various Positions. We all have our own likes and dislikes.
Leonard Cohen led me back to the Esquire article and the article to Glen Hansard, who says before performing 'Fitzcarraldo,' "I think a lot of us are pulling stuff over mountains." Indeed. Mr. Ebert, you've been giving a particularly unwieldy boat and the way you've moved it up the mountain has been an inspiration.
Who over 50 isn't surprised when looking at a photo of himself? I look at my husband every day but in photos I recognize him by his cap. Time is finite. If it's a choice between looking at a book or looking at my reflection, the book wins every time. Kids need to see real faces - this is life - get used to it.
"Ebert: Our love of each other brought us together, but Chaz is a great and deep lover of the movies.
I will write an entry about her. I have been putting it off. I'm a little scared. It's one subject I don't know if I can do justice to."
Please give it a go at some point. We movie-goers are suckers for a great love story and it sounds like yours is one of the best.
"Come out and fight! It is a good day to die!... Thank you for making me a human being. Thank you for helping me to become a warrior. Thank you for my victories and for my defeats. Thank you for my vision and the blindness in which I saw further... You make all things and direct them in their ways, oh Grandfather, and now you have decided the human beings will soon walk a road... that leads nowhere."
And thank you Roger for your silence in which you communicated more profoundly than any words could say.
One of the most daunting things one can do as a reporter is interview a great writer. I usually deal with it by being flip with the heavyweights and uber-serious with the flyweights. Chris Jones did an awesome job, just the right balance between the technical issues of your illness and the spirit that allowed you to blossom as an electronic communicator.
BTW, hats off to Ethan Hill his brilliant lighting in the photographs.
And double BTW, you don't look bad in the pictures, just different. For some reason, I thought of Mort Sahl.
i actually googled your name because i took exception to your excusing the underwhelming ending to "shutter island", but ended up reading the esquire piece instead. and i did misunderstand the article when i read it—i'm very glad to hear you're not dying! i feel like you're a friend to me; i saw "shutter island" last night alone, my friends would probably have fallen asleep during a two hour-plus film without car chases, anthropomorphic CG animals, or 3d effects (my fellow theater-goers would nervously laugh at the most inappropriate times, evidently uncomfortable with the sustained tension). when i came home at 1:30 in the morning, i knew there was at least one person whose opinion i respected whom i could consult about scorsese's newest opus. and although i had initially left the theater disappointed and underwhelmed, after your mention of "vertigo", i thought, "ok, i can see that." and, although my film professor would kill me, i hadn't identified this film as noir. seeing the film from the perspective of the noir genre, and as a tribute of sorts to hitchcock, suddenly i began to see more of scorsese's art. sitting in the theater, i felt like i was watching a straight thriller, complete with requisite plot twist. however, i know "vertigo" isn't really about the plot or judy's secret, and i began to see how the story scorsese was telling wasn't really the wikipedia plot synopsis but more an exploration of a character's point of view. and this morning i woke up thinking about scenes from the film and how they really had a deeper meaning than i'd initially realized.
in case any of them should by chance read this, i'd just like to say i love my friends and they're the greatest! but none of them make me think as deeply about films as you do, roger, so for that i must sincerely thank you. here's to many more years, thousands more reviews!
ps. my one complain—that i still have—about "shutter island" is dicaprio's closing line. at first it sounded profound, but the more i though about it, the more i realized there was no great insight behind it. it's like one of those movie poster taglines that make you curious while at the same time telling you nothing at all about what the movie's REALLY about.
Ebert: I believe some critics have undervalued the immediate experience provided by the film.
Thanks for the inspiring insight into self-esteem and the control or lack-there-of we have over the representations of ourselves others are exposed to. Your willingness to give over so much of that control to let the public have a glimpse into your life and your current physical state, is admirable and something I greatly respect. It was shocking to see the photo of you, so clear and uncompromising. But seeing that photo was also rewarding and empowering: rewarding to see you as you are (as much as a picture can show someone "as they are") and empowering to know that you are battling such physical adversity and continuing to produce such great work.
Re: Angel,
My last name is a city in Spain: that's because I'm part Spanish.
The Esquire piece is fantastic, Roger: informative, poignant, inspiring, and beautifully written. It allows us insight into the hardships which you have had and continue to endure as well as the blessings which you have received. From where I am standing, these blessings include your beautiful and faithful wife and your amazing career both of which have served as wonderful life long relationships for you. You have also been blessed with the opportunity to offer so much to the rest of us – an opportunity you have seized with great gusto, I might add. My words are not up to the task of expressing to you my gratitude for this gusto of yours so allow me to simply say, Thank You.
Thank you for all of your on air reviews. They offered me partners in my love for movies I would not have had otherwise. Thank you for your books which I have enjoyed for decades. In particular, thank you for these journal entries of yours without which I would have missed some of my all time favorite film experiences. And most of all, thank you for (and I believe I paraphrase Werner Herzog on this) soldiering on...for being the great soldier of cinema. You have brought a beam of light into my life and I am truly grateful to you for that.
On a side note: any chance of a journal entry starring your nurse, Millie, any time soon?
Mr. Ebert:
I am a head and neck cancer surgeon and applaud your courage, not only in fighting your own private battle but also in laying everything in the open for all to see.
I can imagine nothing more devastating than what you have been going through, and though the majority of cases that start out like yours do not result this way, head and neck cancer needs a voice--and a face--and there is no better one than yours.
I am glad that this article has introduced me to rogerebert.com and Roger Ebert's Journal, and I will follow your writings there and--on a more mundane level--I will continue to seek out your written opinion before going to the movies, as I have for many years.
Keep on writing. Keep on living. Keep on inspiring the rest of us.
Ebert: Hi, doc! I've met nothing but great human beings in your neck of the woods, so to speak.
I've been reading you over the last several years, and had two of your books given to me as gifts, with no idea about your health.
My 16-year-old daughter is anorexic. We're on our second bounce through treatment. It's changed on us. The first bout some years ago started out as doctrinaire health food, "toxins," eating vegetarian, vegan, crying over 7-grain bread as opposed to whole grain.... "Pure" eating.
You mentioned about physical imperfections, about looking at ourselves in the mirror and whether it's productive. This time the damn thing's more about that. Not in the way the stereotype describes, but in a way that you reminded me of with your talk about the mirror. We can obsess about those flaws we see, and that can run away with us, but the picture we need isn't some fragment of our life, it's the whole thing. Integrated. For my daughter, a whole picture of what it means to be healthy and alive.
The Esquire thing and your response to it are both basically honest. It seems like you have that larger picture. I'm going to send them my daughter's way, and hope she somehow understands that without me preaching to her....
(And now perhaps I will listen to your commentary track on Citizen Kane for a few seconds. Holy Cow, it's Alan Ladd wearing his hat that way!)
Roger -
I just finished the Esquire interview and your coda, and though I'm usually one to sit quietly in the back of class, I was moved to participate in a blog for the first time. I basically want to say that I've been reading and admiring your writing for many years, and that your online journal is a flat out masterpiece. It's hard for me to imagine who else could make me sort of WISH I WAS AN ALCOHOLIC, for example, when describing the AA community. My brain knows better of course, but such is the power of your talent.
I've always felt a connection to you as well, being from the Chicago suburbs, and an alum of the University of Illinois, and still willing to call myself a liberal. I actually stood next to you outside the Cafe Espresso Royale in Urbana (Oregon Street across from the Krannert Center one way, and the chemistry building the other - I was a chemistry grad student at the time) one homecoming weekend in the early 90's. We were both waiting for something or somebody. I didn't say anything on account of my shrinking violet personality, so I am now. Thanks so much and take care.
I can tell you there are a lot of us listening quietly in the back of the room. You might not be able to see us, but we're here.
Mr. Ebert, i have enjoyed your writings on all things for many years, and i hope i get to enjoy them for many more.
Dave
Ohio
I am at a loss for words to blog about this, but I can say that you, Roger, are without a doubt, one of the bravest individuals on earth who could display a vivid picture of yourself in Esquire Magazine, although you yourself said you were in shock over that portrait. Anyway, I'm glad you are still writing and blogging to keep busy. Roger, Chaz, you rock!
My last comment about people not really seeing things might have sounded wrong, so, I'm going to just speak in the Southern Lady dialect:
"Oh, people don't know what they see. They took a good look at you, they'd see you got beauty in spades. You're a dear and that shines through as gloriously as a ray of sunshine."
Weirdly, this article convinced me more than anything of your vitality. Thank you for allowing it to happen. I look forward to many more years of your writing.
I was remarkably touched by your reflections on the Esquire piece. But I think you misjudge. Had you never fought any of your physical ailments, you would still be a subject of interest for Esquire.
Roger, I would just like to thank you for being a part of my life. I have always enjoyed your enthusiasm for movies and your approach to judging them.
I once had an operation on my vocal cords to remove a tumor and for three weeks I was not allowed to talk. Being a garrulous person, it was pure unadulterated torture. I can only imagine what trials you have gone through.
Your journal has inspired me to write, albeit as an amateur. I amuse and or inconvenience friends with humorous portraits of other friends, and that is hard work too.
I admire your courage and will continue to be an admirer. Keep up the good work!
This photo of you, which I first saw in HuffPost, stood out to me because of the incredible energy in your eyes. Any of us would be lucky to have such intensity, passion and intelligence shining out from our eyes so clearly.
I usually only read Esquire while I am on the toilet because most of the long articles just aren't about anyone that matters to me. The new issue made it into the room where I do my "real" reading because I respect Roger Ebert so much. I know people that don't go to see a movie just because of what a critic says, but I have been depending on Roger for a long time to help me avoid wasting my time and money at the movies, and he rarely lets me down. Not perfect like everyone else, but someone who really knows what good cinema is, Roger has introduced me to so many great movies, just reading the whole article was a small way of thanking him for all of his great reviews, books, etc. His voice is still very much there for me. Thank you Roger for the article, it was so great to get to know you in that intimate way.
Martin
Well, after many months I'm reading your journal again. I returned after a good friend (whom I introduced to your journal) mentioned it at lunch yesterday. So I had to come back and start catching up. I've this most recent journal and went back and read the Esquire piece. Very powerful. I loved it, and I'm so thankful for the inside look at your life you have allowed us, even on top of all your wonderful journals.
This one really hit home. After another self-imposed disaster (the second one in less than a year; I am VERY self-destructive), I am crawling back out of the primordal muck and beginning again. ANOTHER new job to learn while avoiding all the professional deathtraps, and I haven't done any art since August.
Despite medication, my depression has come back, and my husband wants me to go back and get the meds tweaked again. But, and I think you will understand this Roger, I've kind of learned to live with the feeling of fragility, of translucency that comes with being on the edge of something (death, insanity, self-awareness?). At least I'm better--right in the middle I call it. I no longer feel like I am walking naked into a hurricane of glass shards, but I feel "half-there"--translucent if you will--like when I walk outside the wind blows through me. LIke I'm stuck in a middle world between the spirit world and the real world. I could learn to be friends with this incarnation of my life-time companion, severe clinical depression. Not bad enough to be suicidal, but strong enough to make me have a healthy level of caution--sad enough to be empathetic on a viabrating level--and turned inward enough, hermit-like enough, to start my artwork again.
Thank you once again, Roger, for your wonderful insite on life. No, you don't have to be healthy and robust to be happy. And there are certainly different kinds of happy. Even the clinically depressed kind. Best to you on your journey, wherever it takes you, and thank you for staying in touch with us. It's nice to be back.
By the way, whether you realize it or not, you are a special breed of shaman; a one-of-a-kind medicine man. Thank you.
Ebert: Dear ArtDog: I have been depressed, not "clinically," and I know it is very real. I am only a guy with a laptop but my thought is, your husband may not be wrong about the tweaking. What I am sure about is that walking can help with depression. Just plain walking. Anywhere. Moseying around. Setting no speed records. Have a vague destination in mind and be prepared to forget it. Rinse. Repeat.
Roger, THANK YOU. Your response means more than you will every know. Going to start the walking today, and I promise to check on the meds.
Thanks again Handsome Man (and I MEAN that! You are still a handsome man) (And an excellent shaman)
Ebert: Eventually go ahead and join the Club:
http://j.mp/dhYE6C
Congratulations and thanks to Mr. Jones for writing such a wonderful article.
As I was reading it I noticed the topic of music, specifically your love of it, arose a few times. I'd love to hear you expand on that a little, if nothing else than listing some of your favorites and giving us some recommendations.
Ebert: I would start out here:
http://j.mp/5tgCKu
Mr. Ebert,
I am not a writer, I've never been good at expressing my own emotions and thoughts so I hope that this little post doesn't come off as a kiss-up so much as the sincere thank you it's intended to be.
I had seen links to the Esquire article on a few websites I read over the last several days and while intrigued, I hadn't bothered to follow the links to read it. So often, these pieces are just fluff; inaccurate prattle designed to push a political or social agenda by using the subject to trick the reader into thinking it would be about a person instead. This morning however, I saw a link to your response (this post) and decided that this would be the one I wanted to see. After reading your view, I realized that I should read the article. The way you spoke of the author's best effort of honestly and realism gave me faith that the story would be worth my time.
I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you, Chaz (which is one of the coolest names I think I've ever heard) and Chris for doing this. I do not understand how anyone could be depressed by your story. I thought this article was beautiful. The sheer amount of love, both between you and Chaz as well as the love that Chris put into writing this, was astounding. I found the column to be uplifting, hopeful and at the same time brutally honest.
I was one of those people who just knew you from TV, one who had never read any of your work. I've bookmarked your blog and added it to the list that I read each week. Having already gone through to read some older posts of yours as well as the quotes in the Esquire article itself I know I will continued to be uplifted, inspired, and amused by you for a good deal longer.
Thank you,
Katie D
Thank you so much for doing the article. I know it was not an easy choice, but I am thrilled because I have found your blog and twitter, which I have
already enjoyed so much. I have gone down several information "rabbit holes" from just following your twitter comments, Love your sensibilities!
Courage is something rare in this world and you exhibit the qualities we all hope to have in life. Although the face we see now is different, it is one
that we never want to be without! Bravo, Roger!
For ill health, I am reminded of the story of Celâl Bayar, former president of Turkey. In 1960, when he was 78, the governement was taken over in a coup d'etat, and Celâl was sentenced to death by hanging. But he was too old, frail, and ill to be hanged. So they kept him in prison instead, since he'd be dying soon.
Twenty six years later, Celâl finally did die, at the age of 103. He got out of prison in 1964. pardoned in 1966, and became a hero of the Turkish people again in the 1970's and 80's.
Ironically, if he'd been healthier, his life would have been a lot short.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cel%C3%A2l_Bayar
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I was in tears when reading the section of the Esquire article where it discussed how you are still able to talk in your dreams. Thank you for sharing this with all of us.
For many more years to come, may your voice continue to ring clear and true, both in wrote through the keyboard and audibly in your dreams.
I really liked the Esquire piece, and I liked you in it.
Mostly I like that you're just such a writer. I'm a writer, I work hard, and I tend to admire writers with a work ethic. It doesn't hurt that you bring so much talent to the job, but there are more people with talent than there are people with talent who also get up every day and get the job done.
I miss the show, and I miss the Letterman appearances and so on, but speaking merely as a fan I can get along fine without all that. But it would be a drag if you couldn't write.
You unable to talk? Eh. You not able to write? That would be serious.
A living, thinking, breathing human being, that's what you are. Thanks for that.
Dear Mr. Ebert
I think you are the only blog site that I write Dear anything at the beginning. As a fan of your work I was wondering about your great movies section. If all of the movies of the world were to be burnt, and destroyed, but you could save ten movies from total destruction what would you choose?
Just wondering
Jared
Starchild? I don't know about that. I'd picture you more as The Cat.
Dear Roger,
You are an awesome human being. I have always felt that there was a greater story behind your often beautifully written film reviews. Your blog has shown the world just that. I have more than enjoyed reading your opinions beyond the film industry. Example, your recent tweets about Emily Dickinson, thanks for sharing the article in the Guardian. Who knew that Dickinson's poetry would translate so well to Twitter? Sounds like a great idea for a Twitter page, tweeting lines from her canon of work.
There’s been a death in the opposite house | As lately as to-day. | I know it by the numb look | Such houses have alway.
(with 20 characters to spare!)
On to my question - your personal library looks inspiring. Would you mind sharing some of your favorite fiction books in your collection?
Thanks,
Emaleigh
Ebert: Just tweeted that.
Apart from the ones you might expect, I'd recommend "A Fine Balance" by Mistry, "The Raj Quarter" by Paul Scott, "The Quincunx" by Palliser, "The Red and the Black" by Stendahl and how about something by Iris Murdoch?
"Resentment is allowing someone to live rent-free in a room in your head."
I've always enjoyed your film criticism; now I have something else to be grateful to you for(even though it's not original with you).
Your Internet voice will turn out to be more powerful than the voice you lost....
But let's not get oversentimental: we finally got around to seeing Mystery Train, which goes downhill really fast after the Japanese tourist segment. (And Joe Strummer as actor--yecch.) It's almost a Jarmusch parody of a Jarmusch film.
Hi Roger,
This is my first time commenting on your blog. Like many others, I was moved by Esquire's outstanding article and compelled to write.
I've been reading your reviews faithfully each week since I was about 13 years old (I'm now at the ripe old age of 26). Back then, they arrived on my doorstep every Friday morning in the local London (Ontario, not the real London) newspaper. They were always the first thing I read over my Friday morning bowl of cereal, even before flipping to the previous night's hockey scores--and, well, I'm Canadian, so I think that speaks for itself.
Siskel & Ebert was a Sunday morning ritual for my family. While we all derived enjoyment from the show itself, I think the real gift was how it was able to bring us together in anticipation, enjoyment, and discussion of the movies you featured. Those things still persist between us today, even though the show is gone. Thank you for that.
But the internet is what really kickstarted my film education, and with a simple formula:
rogerebert.suntimes.com + www.imdb.com + library card
I was about to list just a few of the many incredible emotional and intellectual experiences your reviews have led me to over the years but, well, you've seen the movies. You already know.
I think the best films give us insight into who we are and how we relate to the world around us. I can't even begin to express how valuable these experiences have been to me and my personal growth. But, again, I don't really have to because you've seen the movies. You already know.
Just wanted to say thanks for all that, and I'm looking forward to many, many more years of reviews and blog posts ahead.
Cheers,
Kevin
PS. C'MON man, Big Trouble in Little China deserved WAY more than 2 stars... (sorry, couldn't resist ;D)
"What day is it and why is it sunny out?" My first thought the day I learned my mother had oral cancer.
Her beautiful face was irrevocably altered by surgeries that 97% of oral cancer patients decline; and though it's entirely selfish of me, I would give anything to hold that face in my hands again.
I feel like a fool telling you this because it probably sounds like cliched sentiment, but your face is loved! It's a warm face, a lovely face, a face that holds a beautiful, courageous, immensely gifted spirit.
I am so thankful for language and its skilled practitioners. Keep speaking to us, Roger. Your voice is needed.
You're writing has been amazing, Roger. It says things that show both courage and perspective, which has become extremely rare. Everyone exists for a finite amount of time, and you're doing something with it that--I for one--hope to aspire to.
Well... there's one of those Jesus skeeters buzzing at you again.
It's hard to get into those peoples' heads, as one's sensibilities find little purchase there, not temporal, not divine. One such fella attached himself to me at a news event a long time ago. He stood jabbering into my one ear about finding Jesus while at the other a reporter was trying to interview me.
It was my own fault. When he'd come up to me a few minutes earlier with his spiel about the particular date and time Jesus' meatball bounced off his noggin, I looked at him and said "Your father used to beat you a lot, didn't he?"
It's always easy to tell a farm boy who's been beaten a lot, because he's still cringing. This one cringed even lower when I said that, and glanced around hoping the hickory stick of Satan wasn't hovering in the air now that he'd been found out.
He had to know whether this power of prophecy had been sent by God, the Devil, or Pap. All he could do was rant to me about being saved, to see whether I agreed. Unfortunately, the reporter had come to ask my why I'd just broken up a meeting of the Baptist church we were standing at with all those people milling around. Because they had a Sheriff there lecturing about how to recognize signs of Satanism in your children, I explained. Dundee, New York, the paper was the Geneva Times, 1988 or so. Don't gimme no lip about what an advanced peoples we are.
I've just learned that where we're moving to is the site of a massacre of a tribe of men, women and children generations ago; we may find bones in the dust along with native American pottery shards. One of the residents, a pleasant middle aged woman who owns a wolf that likes me a lot, tells me that she belonged to that tribe in a past life and this is why she has been living here in a tent with a stream for water for nearly 20 years. Only this January did she finally get a trailer.
You personally vet every comment, eh? So we've got access to Roger Ebert's brain for a moment or two. I wonder whether all this praise has come to seem hyperbolic to you, or whether you still feel some genuine thrill when you read each comment. From my point of view, I've put every one of your great movies in the Netflix queue. So, there's the obvious thing which is that you've been able to, over the course of your life, connect your passion for film to other people's. And what a service you've done for those would-be unknown directors who you praise. I'm thinking specifically of Ramin Bahrami, a contender for my favorite director of all-time and someone I'd never heard of it weren't for you.
With the blog, though, you've managed to get out from under just being a *film critic* into being a *writer*. So, now, you've awakened in me interest in things as diverse as Steak 'n Shake malts and New Yorker cartoons. And outrage at the doom of a London hotel I'd never have heard of or seen in my life otherwise. Bravo, sir.
Incidentally, will you be at the Conference on World Affairs this year?
Ebert: Yep, I've been reading them all. Including the one informing me I am the pimp of Satan. Overwhelmed? No. It's only when I question Creationism that I get overwhelmed. Wait...wait! I don't need another 7,114 comments!
I started reading your work in October 1996. I can be that specific because I had just started university in Bradford, West Yorkshire, and had access to the Internet for the first time. One of the first sites I found was the IMDB, and from there, your site. Reading your latest reviews has been a part of my regular Friday routine for more than 13 years now (your unavoidable absence in the middle of this decade notwithstanding).
I mention this only because, for me, your voice is as strong as it always was. Living in the UK, I have never seen one of your TV shows, but I have spent hundreds of hours 'listening' to your thoughts and benefitting from your experience and wisdom. Reading the other comments here, I know that others feel the same.
I confess that I inferred from the article that you had some knowledge that your number was about to be up, so I am hugely heartened to hear that that is not the case.
P.S. I'm wonder how many other people do as I do, and re-read your review after watching a film? I find that invariably it helps me to process it more fully, even if I disagree with your opinion.
The more I read about you and your 'condition' the more I am in awe of your humanity. It's amazing how much can be taken from a man without diminishing his spirit.
I also admire your decision to say 'enough is enough' to further surgeries. It must be frustrating that modern medicine, with all its marvels, can't seem to come up with a miracle for you. I have to admit that this failure puzzles me; what prevents them from creating a prosthetic jaw out of steel or plastic? With everything that can be done with limbs, you'd think this would be a simple task.
Thank you, by the way, for the reassurance that you intend to be around for a while yet -- it did seem to me like this piece was portraying you as at death's door. As always Roger, best wishes.
I loved the Esquire interview - and your response - and I'm definitely another one of the people that can say both made me cry. You inspire me to want to be a better person and continue to strive to have a positive, joyful attitude. Thank you for doing the Esquire piece and continuing to write.
Regarding your comment about your wife "I will write an entry about her. I have been putting it off. I'm a little scared. It's one subject I don't know if I can do justice to".
Look at it this way, if not you, who would be the right person to do it?
Funny thing, but just yesterday me and my wife were discussing how when sickness has hit those around us, it either brings their marriages together or totally drifts them apart, no middle ground.
Glad to say that like you, I'm in the first group.
Roger not sure if you have read this book yet but as a fellow cancer survivor I highly recommend it!
Anti Cancer - MD, PhD, David Servan-Schreiber
Thank you for sharing such touching moments of your life.
Mr. Ebert -
The Esquire piece inspired me to do the following: 1.) Watch my DVD of "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" twice - once with your commentary and once without. I love the movie but I think I enjoyed it more with your commentary. 2.) Visit your blog and stay up half the night reading everything that I could. 3.) Start following you on Twitter.
In short, the Esquire piece inspired me to rekindle my love affair with you and your work. I've been a fan since I started watching "At the Movies" when I was a kid and I'm so glad to have found you again. Thank you for all that you create and I look forward to many more brilliant creations in the future.
I was incredibly moved by the story in Esquire, and I admired your work for many, many years. God bless you. He loves you. He really, really loves you.
Roger,
I've been watching you since 1982 when I was 12 years old. You and Gene shaped my taste in movies and instilled a hatred in me of mindless sequels and "dead teenager movies". And to look beyond the multiplex down the block in my town in New Jersey for quality smaller films.
There's much I'd like to say in terms of praise, but as you once said of Christiane Harlan regarding her performance in Paths of Glory, I'm sure you already know whatever I can tell you. So I'll just say thank you.
Mr. Ebert,
I'm someone who hasn't ever read your journal before the Esquire piece. I usually use your reviews to get an idea if a movie I want to watch is worth my time. And I have never found myself at the suntimes site before.
I'm an author, a blogger, a veteran, and a mother. So I'm not one to gush or make light or try to just meander through life. But these last two years have been extremely difficult for myself and my family.
My husband of 6 years had been having an affair for 2 years without my knowledge. He returned home from Iraq only to kick my daughter and myself out during a cross country move. I lost everything. I was taken in by some friends and finally started moving on and putting my life back together.
I met someone wonderful and thought that despite everything things were looking up. Then my ex started making abuse charges for no better reason than to screw up what I'd found.
It's not cancer, but it eats at your life in a very similar way. And so I've found myself constantly fighting the anger, hurt, and rage that eats at you down deep inside. I've read the self help books, I've done the meditation, the active forgiveness. And yet, when you let your guard down, the anger is still there.
I read the Esquire article today and, I'm sorry to say, became for the first time, aware of your own situation. However, it was your words about resentment giving someone a rent free place that struck me the deepest.
There is no way for me to know if this is a turning place that will allow me to finally let go of it all, but what I can say is that your words struck very deep. Too often I feel just so numb inside. It's the only thing that allows me to go on in so many areas of my life.
But I just wanted to let you know that I hear what you are saying. Sometimes that is enough. Thank you.
Ebert: Damn. Some people are just evil. I feel for you. Lot of good that does, eh?
Anyway, back in the '80's, I remember you and Siskel reviewing a movie in which someone was killed in front of a plant, and the plant was later hooked up to a lie detector and everyone in the factory had to walk by it to see who made the plant the most nervous (i.e., the killer). Do you remember the name of the movie? That plot was right out of a book of short stories I'd read in 5th grade. I don't remember whodunnit, but would love to see the movie.
To answer Glenn's question, the movie is THE KIRLIAN WITNESS, featuring Lawrence Tierney as the detective. Fun fact; the ad campaign was designed by Akira Fitton, the longtime companion of PSYCHOTRONIC ENCYCLOPEDIA OF FILM author Michael Weldon:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077808/
Hello, Roger.
The Esquire piece was grand. I've been watching you and reading your reviews for going on 40 years now. I've been wondering how you were doing.
On the practical side of things: My brother, Bob, had some of the same surgeries you have had. He managed over time to eat some solid food - a remarkable variety of foods, actually - using his tongue and upper palate. He also relearned talking to a certain extent by covering his stoma. He probably had a little more original tissue than you have been left with.
I thought you looked great in the Esquire portrait. You looked like you!
It must be odd to be profiled in such a way, but even as a long-time reader of your reviews, a twitter follower, and occasional visitor to the blog I hadn't clocked the scale of the writing your doing now for the web - discovering it though that article, and having a chance to read it real time, is a wonderful thing.
Both the article and your response are why I love reading good writing. 'nuff said about that.
As for the "resentment being space rented in the head" remark, for some reason I think that was once said by Gummo Marx in an interview. Gummo was by all accounts a very nice man, who, along with Harpo, had a long and happy marriage. I'm sure not being on the performance end of show business helped out on that account.
I could be wrong about the attribution, so I wouldn't take my recollections as Marxist truth.
Dear Roger:
First, thank you for your dedication to sharing your love and passion for the movies all these years. I grew up with "At The Movies" and I believe your & Gene Siskel's intelligent & articulate critiques made me a smarter, more passionate film-goer and eventually by extension, a better actor as well.
Next, thank you for your work beyond movies, so to speak, blogging, tweeting, etc. Your take on the world is eclectic, smart and always entertaining in a very, very crowded blogoshere / twitterverse replete with mediocrity.
Finally, your unabashed and frank revelations concerning your health and the journey it has taken you & Chaz on is refreshing, admirable and (dare i say?) heroic. Kudos to Chris Jones & Esquire.
Wishing you many more years of life, love & sharing your passion with the world.
Mike Rock
Dear Roger. Again, this might be irrelevant, but I don't think it is.
Every time I become self-conscious about the excrutiating helplessness in my life, I find solace in my poor short stories and so-called poems. I write without thinking or prepared plots, without purpose or belief. I see Beelzebub everyday, embodying men with beards, coldly waiting for death; but most of all, I'm transforming into a romantic sophomore, pathetic and lugubrious, listening to Fade to Black and reminescing the dead effigy of movies you know exactly their end.
I wrote this because I just read your article How I Believe in God ( thank you for putting the link here because I wouldn't know that you talked about God and ... ). As a moviegoer, I know, at least, the merits of Cinema or any other form of art and one of them is, I think, " No fanatics allowed ", period.
I live in Libya, and as you know, Islam isn't our friend, and I mean it's a deadly enemy to arts in general. I intentionally didn't want to read all the comments about that article because I already know what I'd read. I only took a fleeting glimpse at the first one who said that you're an atheist ( So what man? The man is a film critic, the man is .... a man ).
Your words were, for some chritian users, offensive, and they were disillusioned that you weren't like them. How then, I ( Muslim in papers ) write something like that without getting decapitated which is something they love to do? If anyone of "them" would see these words I can assure to you that I'll meet you in "heaven", if you know what I mean.
To open a small window here, I'm not an atheist, I'm deeply a spiritual person and I admired you more, honestly, after reading that article, although it was exactly what I expected to read, humanism, free will, the emancipation of thought, and most of all,the right of belief which are all under the canopy of humanism, and you know better than me about this.
Here I quote your last paragraph when you mentioned something that I deeply believe in, and summarize one of the aspects of my faith :
"In a sense, the entangled objects are not even communicating. They are the same thing. At the "quantum level," and I don't know what that means and cannot visualize it, everything that there is may be actually or theoretically linked. All is one. Sun, moon, stars, rain, you, me, everything. All one. If this is so, then Buddhism must have been a quantum theory all along. No, I am not a Buddhist. I am not a believer, not an atheist, not an agnostic. I am still awake at night, asking how? I am more content with the question than I would be with an answer."
I only wish if I had a liberated keyboard like yours, but as I mentioned, am I the only one who will die ( as Kafka would say ) like a dog, unheard and invisible? This is a question that everyone would sincerely if not silently answer it : Yea man, like a dog.
P.S. I think Bergson would be a close friend of yours, don't you think?
A few people wrote about being in tears. Those can only be tears of joy because the Esquire article, the Journal and the preponderance of comments celebrate wisdom, knowledge, communication, tolerance, beauty, loyalty - well, all fine human qualities - unconditionally.
Roger,
Thank you for your passion for movies and for helping us to understand that throughout our planet, good movies have many common elements. I think Billy Wilder said it best, “I just always think, "Do I like it?" And if I like it, maybe other people will come and like it too.” You have always been able to tell us "Why you like a movie" in a way that us regular guys can relate to, even though you are a highly skilled Pulitzer Prize winning writer.
"My best to you and Chaz.
R. Harper
Roger,
Thank you for your passion for movies and for helping us to understand that throughout our planet, good movies have many common elements. I think Billy Wilder said it best, “I just always think, "Do I like it?" And if I like it, maybe other people will come and like it too.” You have always been able to tell us "Why you like a movie" in a way that us regular guys can relate to, even though you are a highly skilled Pulitzer Prize winning writer.
"My best to you and Chaz.
R. Harper
What John Hughes did for making movies, you've done for watching them. You've created a real sense of community across entire generations. In doing so, you've made the world a little smaller and more comfortable, and definitely more fun. It would be understandable if you had retreated from the world, as Hughes did, but I don't expect it's in your nature to do so. I'm happy you haven't, and clearly I'm not alone!
I just wanted to add to the chorus saying that I loved the Esquire piece, and this blog. Every entry here feels like having a conversation with an old friend ... I feel so lucky that I get to read them. I am so sorry for what happened to you, but I’m so glad that you've been able to find your voice again on this blog!
I also love your tweets…and I hate twitter. Thank god for the ability to subscribe to RSS feeds of Twitter posts! :) The video of the two excited dogs on the news program you posted a week or so ago cheered me up on a really, really rough day, so thanks for that small thing.
About the picture...you look fine. Really. I wasn't shocked or grossed out or anything. In fact, in the photos I was struck by the fact that you have very nice, smiley eyes, which is probably my favorite feature on human faces. Even in the pictures where you’re further away from the camera, your eyes stand out. I'd never noticed them in pre-illness pictures of you, so to be honest I thought these pictures were absolutely lovely. No need to worry.
The Esquire article was linked to extensively all over the web, and it was very touching to read (much like many of your blog entries). It's inspiring to read your instruction to find some happiness in yourself and to create it for others. I thank you for reminding me of this when I am encountering some gloomy setbacks in my professional life. Sir, I have been watching and reading you since I was a young teen and since you started your blog I have to hold myself back from commenting "thank you" on each and every entry.
I also regularly read your Twitter but as I'm not a member of the service, I wanted to pass on a link to Michael Wolf's photo series "100 x 100": http://www.photomichaelwolf.com/100_x_100/
Ebert: I could live in a room that small if I could enlarge it with a laptop.
Roger,
We all lose something of ourselves, bit by bit, until the end. You're retaining the best of what you are, which is what makes you an inspiration for all of us incremental losers. Keep on giving to us, and please know that we in our ways are giving back to you. Take care --
Geoff
"...Ebert shakes his head. He begins to write and tears a note from the spiral.
No, no, it reads. You're eating for me."
Nice state of affairs when a man has to indulge his vices by proxy.
Rose...bud..., eh? Okay, Mister Kane! (Or is it Hearst?)
By the way, since your body shape has been pared down considerably over the last two decades (be glad you were heavy -- it meant you, quite literally, had flesh to spare!), you very likely feel more chilled than you did twenty years ago, especially around your neck. May I recommend neck gaiters made from the wool of New Zealand possum? I have one, along with a hat of that same wool. Light, warm, softer than lamb's wool: http://www.rivbike.com/products/show/wool-neck-gaiter/22-288
Ebert: I checked it out and ordered one. Thanks. Cold weather again today.
Thank you for doing the interview. It brought me to your blog, which I look forward to reading with pleasure in the future. Despite enjoying your writing over the years, I never followed the thread to realize you have a blog!
Hi Roger.
So, for a year or so now I've come to your excellent Journal almost every day and have been greeted by what I'll call the SAG / Indie tented-hand picture on your sidebar. That's my image of you. (That, and seeing you on the stage at Ebertfest last April).
Now I have an update: the wonderful portrait by Ethan Hill that opens this thread. Wow. Craftsmanship in portraiture. It's a portrait that says that this man, the subject, is more than a survivor - he has a zest for life and there is a lot going on behind those eyes. I instinctively did the same as someone above and covered the portrait with my hand from the nose down. In that view, the man in the portrait and and the SAG / Indie man are one and the same.
The Chris Jones article is craftsmanship at it's finest as well. A wordsmith. Evocative, not as much in the biographical information but in relating the you that he saw in his time with you.
Some meaningful quotes from the Esquire article:
They hold hands, but they don't say anything to each other. They spend a lot of time like that.
Wow. The state of a strong surviving marriage. Inspiring.
His new life is lived through Times New Roman and chicken scratch.
Nailed it with a word picture.
In this living room, lined with thousands more books, words are the single most valuable thing in the world. They are gold bricks. Here idle chatter doesn't exist; that would be like lighting cigars with hundred-dollar bills.
True. But this one is for me too. It reminds me to be brief and pithy and economical with taking your time when I comment.
And his wide and expressive eyes, despite everything, are almost always smiling.
People have already commented that they can hear your voice as you write. True for me too. True also is that I can see you smile in your embedded comments. They are animated with civility and joy, even when disagreeing.
Quoted from your article about Gene Siskel:
Maybe the problem was that no one else could possibly understand how meaningless was the hate, how deep was the love.
Same here on your Journal. How meaningless the political disagreements (that animate me!), and how deep my respect for you.
"I have someone else's face". That's what I think every now and then when I look in the mirror.
Your article reminded me of my own jaw surgery, almost forgotten from 1987.
I was a 25 year old sargeant with a large gap between my front teeth. "Can I get braces", I asked the military dentist one day. "Yes, if you are a surgery case", he answered. Because we were in Alaska and it was considered an overseas assignment, they could do surgery cases. They wanted to break my jaw and move it forward to correct a severe overbite along with closing the gap. They also wanted to cut off my already strong chin to make it match when my jaw moved forward.
"There's a 5% chance that there will be permanent nerve damage". 5%? Not so bad. Let's do it. So, into braces I went for two years.
A year later, still on track. They said "you know, there's a 10% chance that part of your jaw will be numb." 10% ! Thought about it...carry on.
A year later I was in the hospital in Anchorage, in a gown, ready to go in the operating room in the morning.
"Sign here, saying that you know there is a 20% chance that your chin will be numb".
My chin was numb for years. Still is in places. I don't like using a blade across it shaving, but prefer an electric, because I can't feel when I cut it. My wife also clues me in when I have food on my chin that I don't know is there either.
They were good doctors. On the whole, they did me a huge favor with minimum consequences and I'm grateful for the free surgery.
But I still have someone else's face, 23 years later. :)
I'm so glad you're enjoying them. That was my goal. Call me crazy, but the next time I would like to do that walk in the rain. Not a downpour mind you, just a nice summer drizzle. I may dally in the pubs longer, but that's not a terrible thing.
I don't know if you'll make it all the way through this many comments, but let me just say that Cory Ringdahl's first two paragraphs above exactly describe my experience of the 80's and 90's, too.
Thanks for everything you've done to help us all appreciate good cinema, and to make a certain degree of film snobbery seem less snobby. I think that's enriched all of our lives.
Hello, Roger, I have not followed your work so much in the past but after reading this beautifully written article, I will certainly do so in the future. The article is really compelling in the portrayal of you as someone with a powerful intellect, a passion for film, great talent at writing, and character despite adversity. Thank you for allowing us a meaningful glimpse into your life.
From DaniEl on February 20, 2010 9:18 AM:
I guess you'll go to your grave, a critic (even of my grammar) but you will soon be facing the Most High Critic and righteous Judge.
I say this out of true concern and love for you Roger. God gave you a very severe and public chastening for your sins which are grevious.
You started out making filthy films, and then pimped Satan's propaganda for decades.
Please, consider this and know God was merciful in giving you some more time to repent.
Praying for you Roger.
DaniEl
Why is it that the phrase "I say this out of true concern and love for you" is usually followed by a complete smackdown of everything the target stands for?
"Bill, I say this out of true concern and love for you... you spend too much time working on those damn novels and you're throwing your entire life away."
Come on, DaniEl. I could just as easily say that a terrible illness took away Roger's voice and God let him retain the power of his fingers so he could keep writing reviews, but that would just be shooting my mouth off about stuff that I can't presume to know the first thing about.
Although if I may be allowed a single dash of presumption, I think an excellent sign of God's existence is that He let Russ Meyer be born unto the world just in time to see breast augmentation come into fashion. Now that's what I call merciful judgment.
Ebert: Although Russ slowly came to admire such as Pandora Peaks and his dear Kitten Natividad was his loyal lifelong friend and drove him around toward the end, in general he was unenthusiastic about enhancement: "It misses the whole idea."
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I am 16 years old, soon to be 17 and as a writer, I have looked up to you for a long time. I unfortunately was too young to appreciate Siskel & Ebert when Gene Siskel was alive but now that the At the Movies website has preserved some of your great reviews together, I have become as much a fan of Siskel & Ebert as I had been of Ebert & Roeper. But that's not the point of this comment. I tend to go off-topic sometimes, I apologize. But when you went into surgery, I thought that was it. You were done. You would never come back to At the Movies which is true but I also thought you would never write your column again. You have delightfully proven me wrong and I now not only look up to you as a writer. I also look up to you as a fighter and a man who makes the best of what he has and I hope that when I am older, I will be able to cope the way you have. There's probably a better way to say that but I'm afraid I can't think of another way right now so bear with me. Thank you for so many years of great insight and critique.
Adam Kushner
Ebert: Thanks, Adam. I applaud your calling yourself a Writer. Not a "student" nor any other qualifier, but a Writer. Yes!
Thank you for allowing the original article to be written with your assistance. And thank you for the words on your blog and Twitter. I like seeing these "other sides" of you. I usually agreed with your movie reviews. (Meaning if you liked it, I normally did too. And if you didn't, I'd take that into consideration before plunking down my money. I'd usually go anyway and then come out and think, "Yup, Roger was right.")
It all goes back to your comment the other day about us all having dinner together. As someone who spends a great deal of time alone and working an oddly isolated job, I knew exactly what you meant. Now, I try to read your blog over breakfast (two eggs over medium with hash browns and wheat toast) or dinner in my favorite diner. Your companionship many times is entertaining, but ALWAYS gives me something to think about. That's the best compliment I can give any meal companion.
I have been reading/watching/listening to you for a very long time and you have always been a very smart man. At some point you passed the boundary into being a very wise one.
I admit I miss listening to you. You had a lovely expressive voice that gave weight to your criticisms and your joyful discoveries. Especially the years with Siskel transformed my understanding of movies, and while I sometimes disagreed with you, I always knew that your reasoning and understanding of the movie would hold up and was well worth consideration. There are very few film critics who have influenced the business so much that advertisements for movies that you didn't like often didn't contain critics' quotes...that would have been tantamount to saying "But Ebert hated it," and that would have made a difference.
But much as I miss the sound of you, I am amazed at how your voice has expanded in your writing. Its resonance and the breadth of your involvement, the care you take with the words and with their subjects, all these things have deepened and expanded and I find myself still more moved by your writing than by the sound of you. I thank you for that.
Most of all I thank you for not curling up and hiding. It takes a strange combination of cussedness and courage to move forward and just live your life as it is given you to live. Well done you.
"Well, we're all dying in increments."
How consoling!
You like Iris Murdoch? I have to admit, I didn't much care for "A Severed Head." Is there something else by her that you would particularly recommend?
Ebert: The Bell...The Sea, the Sea...Henry and Cato...Nuns and Soldiers...
Seeing footage of you as you are now (at some ceremony or other) you seemed to be smiling, almost delighted, and I get the same impression from seeing this photograph. I am reluctant to ascribe such feelings to you given the way the physical can distort, but nevertheless it's a happy illusion.
I can happily report that a French audience laughed often and warmly during "In the air". It surprised me a little, you never know what other people will find funny.
Ebert: When I seem happy, I am.
Ive read the article in Esquire few days ago and I hope the Romanian edition will publish it too. It's a great article about a great man.
I admit, a haven't heard about you untill 4 or 5 years ago and i didn't know about your health problems untill one month ago, although i read almost all your reviews. Sometimes i agree with you, sometimes i don't. But that's not important.
I have to say that I was surprised to find out how well-known you are for a film-critic.
You've always been my favourite movie critic, the link I click first when I'm checking metacritic or rottentomatoes, but somehow I missed hearing about your illness until now with the Esquire article--your writing is so prolific and so good that I had no idea anything was wrong just from reading the reviews.
Anyway, the article resonated because my father lost a lot of mobility over the years due to multiple strokes and he too has a G-tube. It always takes a few tries to explain to people how difficult things can be for him to do, or that we don't really remember the exact number of hospitalisations or surgeries either. Most people just don't know what major disabilities are like to live with, so there's too much sympathy or sympathy in the wrong places. And you feel like you're complaining or making people uncomfortable if you go into detail. (If you want to think that much about it in the first place.)
So as sad as it was to read in places, I'm very glad it's out there. Thank you for doing that interview, and for writing so many things I've enjoyed over the years.
Hello, Mr. Ebert,
Having read the very thoughtfully done Esquire article, one thing in particular disturbed me about it: the unexpected loss of the video related to Mr. Siskel.
I've become an informal digital archivist, on my own time (and resources), over the years due to the same frustrations you experienced with your special online hosted clips being yanked rather unceremoniously and without your knowledge (at first).
I've learned that nearly everything worthwhile saving can indeed be saved locally, which puts it out of the realm of anyone who would dare try to yank something of value to you. Even YouTube (for instance).
You may want to check in with someone you trust who's a technological wizard to assist with such details whenever you see something you'd really like to store for the foreseenable future. I just wanted to say it can be done -- no problem there. Been there, done that. Got the t-shirt.
Thanks for the years of interesting reviews. Didn't always agree with them but found them thought-provoking or fodder for a healthy debate. Looking forward to more reviews and dispensed words of lifelong hard-earned accumulated wisdom. After all, I'm looking forward to more debates with my friends about your subsequent reviews. Be well!
I have been reading you for many years now, so long that I think of you as a friend, in that weird way that we have with celebrities. Thank you for all your thought and wit and insight, and for being willing to reconsider past judgments, and for your generosity, and for keeping going now, when so many might choose to become reclusive. And mostly, for this particular article, thank you for writing "Jones's" instead of "Jones'."
Cheers.
I'm not particular as to vocal voice or writing voice, so long as I get to experience your passion for film and life. Pimping Satan, well, that's just gravy.
Hi Roger.
If I could re-title the Esquire piece, or give you a title, it would be:
Roger Ebert: Master Virtual Conversationalist
You've not only been able to continue in your day job when it would have been forgivable to let it go, but you've blossomed in your after-hours non-professional conversation with your readers.
Many of us who engage in virtual online expressions of our inner life are in awe of not only the content of your conversation, but in the mastery of it's forms.
Many of us blog. Or we fiddle with blogging. You, on the other hand have mastered the form. Regardless of the formatting or the software platform, you have elevated what a blog or Journal can be.
It wasn't so long ago that you sent out a tentative testing-out-this-Twitter-thing message. Now, you have one of the most vital and alive Twitter page going. You've mastered that virtual conversation as well.
Master Virtual Conversationalist. Yes.
I've been a long time reader of your movie reviews but only came to find your blog through this article (which I thought was beautifully written).
I came to you originally many years back through Gene Siskel's reviews which usually fit with my taste in movies. I didn't really agree with you but I liked that you both had lively and civil intellectual debates on tv, not the general run-of-the-mill shouting matches. Later I continued watching and began to appreciate your take on movies and a more relative way to judge them. I hadn't realized how much of a fan I'd become until recently when I got to see Broken Embraces in Europe several months before it came to the US. I was so impatient waiting for your review to come out to see what your take on it was!
I'm so glad I found the blog and a rare (for the internet these days) caring and insightful readership. Thank you and keep up the great writing.
Although the title "Last Words" and the photo juxtapose your current ability not to speak, if I was the editor, I would have framed the first page of the article with a cropped photo of your face (from the nose up) and have the first page of text start under the photo (text = speaking). I would have ended the article with the uncropped full page photo on the right hand page and the final page of text on the reader's left. My reason for this 'context by page layout' is that if you look at the full page photo and then place your hand or a post-it note over the lower half of your face, what you see is a very intelligent pair of eyes and a healthy appearance, even handsome, which would only then be revealed at the end of the article to show your current state of health. Our society has watched and listened to Stephen Hawking, and read his work, for decades, and we accept that genius can dwell in a body disfigured by suffering. Unlike Hawking, your entire body is not affected, and if readers try the post-it note over the face experiment, anyone will see that your eyes and general appearance are fundamentally beautiful by all standards of artistic aesthetics, except for your 'jaw.' A cropped photo, minus the shock value, would have made a first impression that Roger is not his appearance, but remains his thoughts, ideas, and critical thinking skills based upon years of cultural observations. Despite your medical history, you remain one of the best minds/literary voices of our generation. That's the real story.
I gotta think, at the end of the day, reflecting on being called Satan's pimp is quite hysterical.
You could even incorporate it in the site's masthead: Roger Ebert, Pimping for Satan Since 1967
Hi Mr. Ebert,
I'm a long time reader and I just wanted to say that you're truly an inspiration. Your reviews make me laugh as much as they make me think. Keep on truckin', okay?
And you've probably been asked this a thousand times, but...is Citizen Kane really your favorite film? It's certainly influential, and I guess I wouldn't mind living in Xanadu.
Mine's a toss-up between Jurassic Park (childhood favorite) and The Godfather (parents' wedding song was "Speak Softly Love", and well...my first name is an indication of how deep we're entrenched in our heritage. No Mafiosi, though. I don't think...)
Speaking of Kane, my late grandfather (another big inspiration with a great sense of humor) grew up in South Boston in the Depression, the son of Sicilian immigrants with three other siblings. If he wanted to go sit in the movie theatre all day, he had to shine shoes to pay for admission. So when he was 10 years old he built a wooden shoe shine box, and earned his nickel, and he sat through King Kong and Frankenstein and all of his childhood favorites, a love of which he then passed on to the rest of us.
The old wooden box is still sitting in the pantry of his house, and he pasted a small piece of paper on it many years later.
Of course, it reads: "Rosebud" :)
You're in my thoughts, and the thoughts of my family. All our love and well wishes from mine to yours.
I read the piece and found it emotionally effective--but I still prefer reading you, Roger. It was one of the minor joys of my 2009 when I shared a brief but lovely correspondence with you, easily one of my favorite writers.
The article did what you don't, usually - it focused on you (as often as you discuss your memories, you tend to be outward-facing rather than navel-gazing). It responded to the curiosity we have about your wellbeing, without seeming to pander and without seeming to degrade you either. It was the right venue, and the photos were the right photos, and the story was quiet but interesting, unblinking yet gentle.
I share a tendency to jump in, as you do. This time, you obviously touched a lot of people. Thank you for saying yes to Mr. Jones.
And, apropos of nothing but its truth: Chaz IS a goddess.
Mr Ebert,
I'm just curious as to what your opinion is on whether or not you consider yourself to have a stronger voice than ever before, now that you literally have no actual voice. And by that I mean, do you feel that through this blog and twitter and multiple other things, your words have more of an impact now than ever before due to the fact that the things you say seem to have more meaning since you've thought them out so well and cared enough to write them all down? I don't mean it as a slight in any way but before, whenever you spoke, I of course heard you, but now it's like I REALLY hear you. We all do. And I was just wondering what your perspective is on that.
- Nathan M.
Good afternoon, Mr. Ebert...
Just wanted you to know that the dignity with which you are facing a difficult situation is an inspiration. As a result, you have joined my pantheon of 20th century heroes: Muhammad Ali, Terry Fox, and now you. All the best.
Wow! You were kind enough share a link (about John Prine) on my site via Twitter and all sorts of people stopped by for a visit. I felt compelled to write about it and also share a couple memories of you in the islands.
http://www.honoluluagonizer.com/?p=2121#comments
Roger Ebert is a nice man. I want everyone to know it.
Roger, all over the world people are admiring you, falling in love with you, modeling themselves after you, and sharing you with others. I hope you have a room in your head large enough to hold that.
Dear Roger,
For as long as I can remember, I have been a lover of film. I remember being 9 or 10 and begging my dad to let me watch Pulp Fiction with him, or going to see a foreign film with my Grandmother when I was young. However, with all the films I have seen, I consider the turning point in my passion of film to be when I began to read your reviews about 8 or 9 years ago. I am now a 20 year old college student, studying abroad in Rome for the semester. While it has been tough to stay current on the films playing in the States, I still take great joy in reading your journal entries. I especially enjoyed your article on London. Since I have been in Rome, I have seen so many amazing things and met incredible people, but your article reaffirmed my desire to viscerally experience all of my surroundings and live in the moment. Your writing has given me insight on so many things in life that it wouldnt even be fair to try to speak of them in this comment. This is my first comment to you, something I have wanted to do for so long, but possibly the grim nature of this article title has forced me to finally contact you and hope that you read this. There are so many things I would like to converse with you about regarding film and life, but if nothing else I would like to thank you for teaching me so much and to let you know that what you are doing still has a profound impact on many people, some of which you probably have never heard from.
Regards,
Tom Dwyer
What touched me about this article was, quite frankly, not the part about what a great writer you are and the wonderful career you have had, but the part about you being a person living with the effects of cancer. My mother had tongue cancer and she too lost the ability to eat, drink, swallow, etc. She was embarrassed by how she looked and the fact that she had a tube in her stomach and part of her tongue and jaw missing. She never had the courage to go to a restaurant or be in public much and traveling was out of the question for her. I think about all of the people who will read the article and this blog and for the first time learn something about a condition they knew nothing about before and that makes me glad. I don’t know if you felt braver for having agreed to the article and to sit for the portrait but I for one want to thank you for taking part. I think many people who are living with the effects of this type of cancer carry on stoically yet quietly and I for one am glad to hear your voice.
Ebert: Although Russ slowly came to admire such as Pandora Peaks and his dear Kitten Natividad was his loyal lifelong friend and drove him around toward the end, in general he was unenthusiastic about enhancement: "It misses the whole idea."
Well, call me corrected. I'm going to pass this one off as "my mind was clouded by the powers of Satan."
You never lost your voice Roger.
Don't you dare stop writing!
Mr. Ebert - I am a huge fan and knew some of what you've been going through. I'm a believing Mormon and have, obviously, some views of the world different from yours. However, I feel I'm a better man having read your posts about religion and things of a spiritual nature.
I am a filmmaker and having read your work for so many years of my life, I think about you when I am writing and fantasize about what you'd think of what I have to say.
It's been such a part of my creative process that I always assumed I'd find out someday when one of my projects actually reached the screen.
Reading the article made me worry that it might not happen as I am in the process of raising money for a movie I wrote and will direct and have no idea when my ideas might be realized.
Sooooo...
I don't know if this means anything to you or not, but you've been in my thoughts and prayers. This is somewhat selfish, alright, it's totally selfish - I want a Roger Ebert review (good or bad) of my stuff and would feel incomplete without one.
Anyway, I do sincerely wish you well.
I am inspired by your grace, wit, and talent.
Best regards,
Bryce Clark
Like most commenters here, I enjoy your writing very much. As I've read your blogs over the past year, I've found the ones I've liked best are those where you reminisce (Steak-n-Shake) or otherwise shared your steps along that road to happy destiny. Whatever your outward appearance, you're a beautiful human being and I thank you for spreading that "unalloyed elevation". You make me want to be a better man.
I love this post and Chris Jones' wonderful Esquire piece. I get your reviews by e-mail every week and your insights and beautiful writing are a cherished Friday companion. (I send my favorite paragraphs to friends who appreciate good writing, just so we can enjoy it together.)
I wish you and Chaz the best. You didn't choose to be the guy that showed other people a life worth living, but you do it well anyway.I'm glad you're enjoying every last thing that you can, and I'll remind myself to do the same.
My husband had recommended I read this and I'm so glad I did. I loved this Esquire article, and my eyes filled with tears many times. We've always loved your reviews, and they are filled with the humanity that is so evident in everything you do. I don't think you just learned that life is about bringing other people joy; I think you knew it all along.
It really is the only way to make oneself happy, too. I was very impressed with Chas's idea of apologizing to Rush :) And with everything that I read about her in the article.
I miss Siskel too. I know, this might all sound very weird, since I didn't even know him, but there was something magical about your rapport with him. He was also such a warm, sensible person that I love watching your old interviews together. I find it very comforting. I'm 34 so I only really caught the tail end of the interviews when they actually aired (I don't think I would have been able to make much sense of them back when I was 11) but they are so rich and there's just something so comforting about watching two compassionate, intelligent men talk about something they love with such a passion: film.
And, I get sad whenever I try to imagine what Siskel would have thought of a particular movie and there's just no way to know. Now, unlike you I do think there's an afterlife and I think you'll be reviewing films with Gene in it :) We just took our 3 year old to see her first film, the Princess and the Frog, and loved it (the baby had to stay home!). I hoped it would be a magical experience she'd never forget, but 3 turns out to be a little young still to sit still that long :) She was dancing in the aisles a lot of the show.
So, thank you for the interview that became the article, and I wanted to also say, that I didn't think you looked remotely "unlovely" or odd.
I have to admit...the photo did get me to read the piece...but not for the reasons you may think. It reminded me of how much I have used your reviews and opinions to decide where I want to spend my precious movie minutes. I wondered how you were doing and what you had to say. I have always turned to you for movie reviews. What is very interesting to me is now you are offering me something else besides your great reviews, intellect and insight on film. I am now learning from you to value my time on this earth and fill it with as much joy as I can. You are an amazing man and I think you look pretty darn good. :o) It sounds like you married a pretty amazing woman too. Take care.
Some interesting comments on this one. I liked the guy who was moved by the lack of vanity in "Robert's" photos. And the one urging you to repent your sins. They weren't all bad, though; actually, the vast majority of them were just the opposite. I already mentioned my opinion of the article in an earlier entry, so I won't repeat myself here, but there were a couple unrelated things I wanted to bring up:
Firstly, "Shutter Island." I was really, really looking forward to this one, being a huge Scorsese fan and a huge fan of the book. But I have to say, he botched this one. Almost completely. I realize that adapting a novel into a movie is no easy task, but come on; this one was a layup. The book reads like a movie - it almost could've been used in lieu of a screenplay. It seemed to me that the main problem was that Scorsese and his writer had very little respect or reverence for the source material. The movie has an overcooked, almost tongue-in-cheek tone that is nowhere to be found in the book. And if the people who made it didn't take it seriously, why should anyone who watches it? Even if you don't buy into the psychology of the book, it was nothing else if not a page-turner. But the movie doesn't even have that going for it - there's very little suspense or build-up of tension; they've been traded in for a kooky/ominous atmosphere that goes nowhere.
I'm not saying the movie was a travesty - it was never less than watchable, and the cast was great - but it could've been so much more. Scorsese's such an energetic director, so what happened here? I know he hasn't lost it - he's made great movies within the last few years and I'm sure he'll make more in the future. But unfortunately, this just wasn't one of them. I strongly urge anyone who wants to see it to read the book first; it will only take a couple days and I guarantee you you'll still want to see the movie afterward; but if you see the film first you're not likely to seek out the book.
Secondly, I saw one commenter said he was unable to get a ticket to Ebertfest. I happen to have an extra one now because my friend can no longer go, so if he or someone wants to contact me about it my email address is Jorge50000@aol.com.
Thirdly, I loved the interview with Lee Marvin. He seemed like a pretty interesting guy.
I read this article and was inspired, sir. You are one of the best writers I have ever come across. To be as positive as you are with what you have gone through is something that is truly rare. Most people would have crumbled.
Watching movies with my dad on the weekend may have started my love for film, but your reviews are the reason I decided to put my reviews down on paper (and, admittedly, my friends were music buffs and they also helped me make the decision to start writing reviews so that they would have something to look at).
Thanks for the inspiration and the words you have given to the people.
JT
It was a nice bit of writing. It was especially interesting how the "angry Ebert blowing up the type" climax unlocked the whole piece. To my reading, Jones really built a house of cards throughout -- the fatalistic tone of which could have backfired miserably with the wrong kicker. But that episode provided a catharsis that resolved the whole piece nicely.
It must be strange to be a "character" on a "story arc," though, I would imagine.
Thank you for sharing so freely of yourself. If only the examined life is worth living, then the published life must be so much the richer for the wider consideration.
Mr. Ebert,
Wow, what can I say that hasn't already been said....most importantly as I don't know you personally, I'd like to say if it wasn't for movies making me want to watch movies, you make me want to movies. Your words inspire and your writing is sharp and apparent in this piece and the feature by Jones, uplifting and beautiful.
I take these words with me most importantly: "To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts."
All the best to you and Chaz,
Your fan,
Mike
Beautiful article. Thank you for your continued thoughts, criticisms & musings; you've taught me more about appreciating film in the past 30-odd years than I could ever express.
I'm joining the 700+ Club (maybe it's up to 800 + comments now) in saying:
1) I, too, loved reading Chris Jones's Esquire article on RE and learning a bit more about his life with wonderful Chaz.
2) I, too, find RE to be lovely and lovable, and handsome in a way that counts.
3) I, too, feel so lucky to have encountered him in this space.
Interesting that more than one poster has likened Roger Ebert to a shaman.
I found RE here near the end of a most extraordinary year, a year in which I'd been knocked to my knees, pushed off a cliff, had my body scattered and then partially eaten by vultures. I'm speaking metaphorically, of course. (What happened in concrete terms is that I was waylaid for months with a bizarre illness that scared the sh*t out of me, while for weeks the doctors told me it was all in my head.) I described this image to my husband yesterday, and he chuckled, said it was a classic description of shamanic initiation. “Never pass up a chance for death and dismemberment,” he added, quoting Michael Harner, founder of the Foundation for Shamanic Studies. Well, I think it's fine to pass up such chances, personally, when one is given the option. But it's also true that a lot of good came out of my involuntary experience. And not just weight loss.
By late November, after I'd had several weeks of getting better instead of getting worse, I got on the internet, not knowing what I was looking for, other than wanting to better understand the confounding Werner Herzog. I had just seen his “Encounters at the End of the World,” which I loved. What I found was Roger Ebert and his journal. I don't want to sound maudlin or nutty, but he helped me return to the world, and to living, much more quickly than I would have otherwise.
I haven't figured out yet a way to say how profoundly grateful I am. Certainly can't send a batch of fresh-baked cookies, or even some fudge from my new recipe: goat milk maple chocolate, which was a hit at my husband's office. (I think it's a tie with another new recipe: a candy made of honey, sesame seeds, lemon peel, ginger, cayenne pepper, and strands of dried kelp. Seriously f*ing addictive – sweet, salt, tang, earthiness, bite of heat...) The only way I can think of to thank RE is to pass the joy on to other people.
I hope this doesn't sound too much like a religious conversion or something. Yikes. I don't know, I think we humans need each other. And sometimes the help we most need comes from the most unexpected places, at the most unexpected times. It doesn't have to make sense. It's just grace.
A couple random thoughts:
- All this talk about renting space in one's head keeps making me think of John Malkovich. But, more seriously, an interesting thing happened those months while I was sick: I forgave people who had hurt me badly in the past, lost my old resentments, found a new understanding of other people's suffering. I'm grateful, but I don't know that I'd recommend the method.
- Also, isn't it weird that someone who actively spreads joy and beauty is accused of “pimping for Satan?” (whatever that means)
Thank you, RE.
And Tom, too.
I can not tell you how many hours I have spent just simply sitting on my couch reading your reviews. Some of which i find more heart felt and interesting than the movie you discuss. You have captured in your writings things that I have felt and did not know how to express, and for that I thank you. You have been a pleasure to read and listen to over the years, and I thank you for continuously letting us into your life.
In the words of Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger, the web is "infinitely more diverse, wide-ranging and, at its best, enlightening than any newspaper ever achieved by simply pushing the opinions of a few columnists out of the door and slamming it shut."
I'm proud to have Rusbridger's words on the header of my blog but Ebert's Journal truly proves his words correct.
Here is a link to the very worthwhile text of Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger's Hugh Cudlipp lecture:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2010/jan/25/cudlipp-lecture-alan-rusbridger
Dear Roger and Chaz, I am sorry that you are suffering. Years ago when my family was on Easter vacation in Hollywood during the Academy Awards, you sat near us in our hotel diner at breakfast time--and you were kind to my beloved dad. So I thank you for that memory and I hope you will come to realize that God has not only *found you,* but that He loves you and is the very reason for your existence. Now, during Lent, I must continue praying for your eternal happiness...
Many years ago I was lucky enough to preview a few films in the screening room of the Chicago theater. The first time I went I almost fell out of my seat when in walked Siskel & Ebert. I was in the presence of greatness! I have to admit my utmost admiration for both gentlemen, and now take pride in bragging that I screened films with them years ago. Mr. Ebert has my utmost respect.
My comment has nothing to do with the Esquire piece, but I could find no better place to write this note.
A few weeks ago, I was discussing Citizen Kane with my film students when I remembered something you wrote about Bernstein's speech. He tells (of course) about a woman that he saw for a moment. His kicker: "I bet that not a month of my life has gone by that I haven't thought of that girl." So I show this scene and I tell my students that you wrote that not a month of your life has gone by that you haven't thought of that speech. Then I recalled that for years after reading this, I could say that not a month of my life had gone by that I hadn't thought of your words.
It must have been some girl, eh?
I thought the article was a very solid and well-written piece that seemed to portray the whole you, as it were. Definitely a good read. I'm glad to hear you also felt it was well done.
(Also the bit about the Lee F--ing Marvin interview cracked me up.)
- foresthouse from Twitter :)
This blog lead me here: http://www.daylightatheism.org/2010/02/roger-ebert.html
I devoured this journal entry and the article in esquire. Both are beautiful and well written. I will keep coming back to for more.
Roger:
After years and years of sitting through Hollywood's (mostly) pathetic attempts at inspirational stories, how fitting that you should create one yourself. And you've done it just by letting people see who you are, inside and out.
Awesome.
Roger,
I haven't read the Esquire article yet but plan to run out tomorrow and get it. For what it's worth, although some might consider you disfigured, I think you're hot. Ever since we worked together at the Sun-Times in the early '80s, I have had a big crush on you. You're one of the smartest, funniest, nicest men I have ever met, and no stinking surgeries can change that. Chaz is one lucky woman. All the best to you both.
@ Jennifer
One cannot convince a man that he needs a cure, when he denies that he is ill.
Roger has been a servant in Satan's propaganda machine for decades, promoting a culture of lust, violence, drugs, death and lies and he will need to answer for it one day soon.
There is nothing more hateful than to say to Roger that "all is well" when he is heading for a cliff.
The wonderful thing is that in spite of his grevious sin, he has forgiveness freely offered to him, a freedom that came at a ver high price.
BTW, as a consequence of my own sins, i've looked death in the face for nearly 2 decades in the form of a disabling disease, so I can relate to Roger better than most.
C'm0n Roger. Humble yourself, get alone with Him and confess, if you say you have nothing to answer for, you can add one more lie to your charges.
There's great peace and love to be had in knowing Him.
Time is short and I will continue to pray for you.
Your neighbor,
DaniEl
"Death is an issue of the greatest importance for all people without exception. No one can honestly say that death is of no concern.
At the same time, however, few important issues are given as little serious consideration as death. It is said that there are two things people cannot gaze at directly: the sun and death.
The French philosopher Blaise Pascal (1623-62) decried people's tendency to avoid thinking of their own mortality: "This negligence in a matter where they themselves, their eternity, their all are at stake, fills me more with irritation than pity; it astounds and appalls me." (2) His dismay at people's irrational indifference toward death drove him to use such strong words.
What is death? What becomes of us after we die? Failing to pursue these questions is like spending our student years without ever considering what to do after graduating. Without coming to terms with death, we cannot establish a strong direction in life. Pursuing this issue brings real stability and depth to our lives.
Many views of life and death have been articulated over the ages by religious leaders, philosophers and scientists. Without going into a detailed discussion, I think it's fair to say that human knowledge has not advanced sufficiently to either definitively affirm or deny the possibility of life after death. Science takes as its object of investigation phenomena discerned with the five senses; what happens after death is beyond its purview. Its basic stance disqualifies it from speaking on the matter one way or the other.
No view of the nature of existence can offer direct proof of what happens after death. It seems, therefore, that rather than trying to compare the relative merits of different views, it is far more fruitful to ask how a particular view influences people's lives in the present- whether it makes them strong or weak, happy or miserable."..Dr.Daisaku Ikeda
Thank you for everything you have given.
There are a lot of people in the young generation who's paths are straighter and more focused because of you. Myself included. I've learned a lot from you, and at times reading your work felt like cheating. Like I was taking a shortcut to a place most people don't end up until they're fifty.
I've learned more than to love movies from you. To love people and all the intricacies of the universe. Actually, I'd be more correct saying that I learned a sophisticated process from you. A process, a method, that I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.
In other words: you taught me how to climb the ladder instead of just telling me what the view was from your vantage. To continue climbing the ladder and to continue learning and loving and to always sharpen my human analytical skills. I'll carry this with me forever, and perhaps someday my children will imbibe the process.
I don't want to complain about the world, but you are a true Man in a wold with a low sanity waterline.
I am very happy that I can express my gratitude for you here, whether or not it seems like groveling, and perhaps someday I will honor your name.
Again, thank you.
The article was eloquent and moving, and your response doubly so. Your reviews in the Sun-Times and online are an oasis in a sea of snarkiness. Your blogs and twitters just extend your talents into the world at large. Please keep writing into the night.
Roger - Thank you for letting Chris Jones see your life and write the Esquire story. I'm a journalist but I also try to be a writer whenever possible. I lost half a day reading the Jones piece and then re-reading it and then sharing it with every other writer I know in Austin and then talking about it for the rest of the day. Most of the conversations revolved around these two points: damned, those guys can write (the both of you), and god, I love Roger Ebert. But the line I kept coming back to time and time again is this one, from you: "When I am writing my problems become invisible and I am the same person I always was. All is well. I am as I should be." It was like being told something I've always known, or felt, but could never really articulate, that simple pure pleasure that washes over me when I'm writing. All is well. I am as I should be. Thank you, Roger, for the pains you've taken to be the writer you are today. We appreciate it, and we love you. - Donald
Hi Roger
I often admired your "Perfect London Walk" book as an undergrad at U of I. It was on the "Illini Authors" shelf in the Union. (I couldn't afford to buy it, but I did browse it often. I also didn't think I would ever get out of IL, nevermind to England.)
Professor Curly retired shortly before my freshman year and died shortly thereafter. But I had many fine writing teachers.
I wrote you fan letter. I think it was actually more of an inquiry. I wanted to know how to be a writer without actually, you know, paying any dues. I was AMAZED at your gracious response. Thank you.
Well, I did pay some dues. I am a writer and my job has taken me to London a few times. Never made it to Hampstead Heath, but have gloried in Hyde Park, St. James, Green Park, etc.
Oskee Wow Wow!
Roger Ebert and Chris Jones,
Your Esquire article and this response just convinced me to stay in my journalism program.
Thanks.
I always liked you, and now it makes me glad that I always liked you. You make us think. Thinking is a great thing. I called you the pop corn guys. I love a good mind, its a gift. You make us all stronger in knowing you are. Take care, Carol
Roger,
You are an ideal renaissance man. Without question, you would have been a huge success as a
political commentator, career diplomat, presidential advisor or captain of industry. Your views have always been balanced, erudite and succinct. The subtle manner in which you reined in Gene Siskel when he became overly contentious was a sight to behold. (You can add superb mediator to the list.)
One of the things you have never touched upon is the blanket refusal of Martin Scorcese to engage Al Pacino in any of his films, particularly the gangster based ones for which Pacino is ideally suited. It seems as if Deniro has a lock on all those roles. There must be a reason for this snubbery, but no one ever seems to address it. Still, in my view the ultimate snub was Otto Preminger's rejection of Jeff Chandler's bid to portray Ari Ben Canan, and going for the 'hot' actor Paul Newman in the lead role of the movie Exodus. As it turned out, Newman gave a subpar performance in what turned out to be one of the worst in his career, while Chandler was left to wonder, during the brief time interval before his premature death, what might have been if Preminger were more judicious in his selection. If he had considered Jeff's performance in his film acting debut "Sword in the Desert", it would have been a no-brainer for the hardheaded Austrian director.
when McArthur said 'Old Soldiers never die, they just fade away', he could have easily applied that same genre to movie critics. As I reflect upon your illustrious career, I am clear that you will leave an indelible imprint on film journalism for those who aspire to capture the essene of your genius.
No articulation has moved me as much this has, relating a clarified understanding of the power of love and of the human spirit. Thank you Mr Ebert for opening another window to your being, and enlightening this 30 year old Chicago woman in ways that will continue to affect me -- and hence my friends and family (I've already shared the article with them) -- for the rest of my life, our lives, and so on. Your chair-side lamp is not the only light illuminating as you write. Shine on, Roger.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I loved the article about you and I owe you a debt of gratitude for inspiring me to pursue my love of film. As a teenager, I watched you and Mr. Siskel review films on PBS, long before the general public knew of "SISKEL & EBERT" and before "TWO THUMBS UP" was a phrase that became part of our pop culture.
A few years ago I moved to Chicago and one of my most recent favorite film experiences was to see "THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG" at the Siskel film center. Recently, I discovered the MUSIC BOX THEATER and was so pleased to enjoy a filmgoing experience that didn't have 16 plus theaters inside.
I have also been privileged to work in the home entertainment industry for the last 20 years where I have been able to make a variety of films accessible to consumers. I have always believed that everyone should be entitled to enjoy the films that entertain them.
I have always hoped that I would meet you in person and simply say "THANK YOU" for what you've given to me. But until then, this note will have to suffice.
And just for the record, my favorite film of all time is THE SOUND OF MUSIC.
Roger,
We in our household love you dearly and are moved by your display of bravery and vulnerability -- you are not far from the Kingdom of God. We respectfully ask you (and everyone else for the matter) to consider the impeccable pulpit of the late Richard L. Strauss Th.D. Google "Spiritual Gold" -- the Life of Christ series is sublime.
You have a good nose and will realize immediately you have discovered an untarnished treasure.
Respectfully,
Wm
I used to watch you and Gene Siskel religiously on the PBS show Sneak Previews as a kid, a show that (watching excerpts today) seems to have been taped an eternity ago. It was really the reviews compiled in your annual Movie Home Companion that got me hooked though. You were one of the critics (along with Stanley Kauffmann, Pauline Kael, Leonard Maltin and David Thomson) I always referenced regularly.
I particularly enjoy your ongoing Great Movies series. Every time I revisit a movie and think to myself, now THAT is a great movie (The Shining, Mon Oncle Antoine, Rashomon, L'Atalante) I will often find that you have recently added the film to that series.
Best wishes.
Roger you are neat. My sister and I went to see you and Gene in "Peter and the wolf" in Chicago. That was a fun experience for us and it seemed that you and Gene enjoyed it, and were friends who kidded each other. I seem to remember that you had ice cream at your wedding, I bet your wedding was fun. I like that you have a library. I want a library!
Glad I found your blog. I am glad you had your picture taken, but I agree you should have had messier hair. You seem to write from your heart and have an interesting point of view.
Ebert: Yeah, my hair was always unruly. Why are you supposed to look "your best" in photos?
I am currently in the midst of reading the wonderfully written Esquire article about you. I was not aware that things had progressed with your illness to the extent they had. I was taken aback, not by your picture, but how out of touch I have been with things. To me the photo of you doesn't look incredibly different than an older photo. Sure there are the obvious differences but my first internal response was 'He still has those lively eyes'. I was glad to see that.
I have been a fan of yours since I was young and realized that when your show had come on television I had stayed up pretty late. Then as I got older I watched it for the commentary on films that you and Mr. Siskel provided and eventually the added greatness of seeing you and he interact. I could tell that though you two may not always have agreed on a film, you had a deep respect for one another and a deeper friendship. You both seemed very real in a time where a lot of things I would watch and experience seemed forced and false. The portion of the article that mentions you missing him really hit me close to the heart as I understood what you feel and meant, having also lost a very close friend too soon in life.
I don't want to turn this into a huge, rambling comment. I do want to say though that reading about the trials you have been through has given me a greater insight not only into your life and your dedication to your work, but has made me re-examine my own life, and how I should be doing more. I was inspired by it, and I believe that not only will I see things different from here on out, I will also be more involved in my own life.
I plan to go through The Great Movies books you wrote and watch the films mentioned, and make sure that I pay more attention to the work you are doing here. I realize that I could have missed out on so much and not even known it. You're a great writer, a wonderful person and I wish you all the best this life can bring. Thank you for all the great memories past, present and future and for your courage.
I'm afraid I'm not very reverential; smile.
Besides, Roger's not dead yet - there's plenty of time to say nice stuff about him while plotting to crash the memorial service with Jerry Berliant. :)
Not that's it a waste of time to say nice stuff but, well, it's more fun to catch him off guard with a round of water balloons tossed from the neighbor's yard...
Roger as James Bond!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_bond.jpg
Roger as Marcello in La Dolce Vita!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_marcello.jpg
Roger as "Rick" in Casablana!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_casablanca.jpg
Roger as Spock playing 3-tier chess!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_spock.jpg
And last but not least - Roger in Citizen Kane!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_citizen_kane.jpg
P.S. and before you say anything, it could have been soooo much worse....
http://xrayvision.today.com/files/2009/11/sean-connery.jpg
Smile.
Ebert: Marie, it's so late at night I'm posting these now and opening them in the morning. Yawn.
your surgery and its results seems to be like the stargate experience in 2001...because as i read your recent blog entries you seem to be like haywood floyd bouncing around your timeline...from old dude lying in the bed to young man looking around at his past and the universe (though I admit I didn't see any root beer in 2001).
Roger:
My eyes were filled with tears.
This article is a most beautiful, respectful observation of the life of a great man. Your knowledge and breadth of film history, coupled with your ability to write about the movies and the people who make and act in them is a national treasure. Chris Jones entered your life and told the story of the evolution of your life, post apocalyptic illness and post Siskel. Your home, routine, your acceptance, your joys, your caring for your craft, your love for your wife, and your outpouring of the written word are all gifts. The digital age has allowed you to reach out with your words in ways that were never possible before. You have a palette on which to write all that your mind can gather and tell.
We watch and listen with great pride and acknowledge your sacrifice.
You are dancing with death and your steps are light and lively.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I read the Esquire article about you on a flight from Shanghai to Beijing a few days ago. Although I admit it was the Leonardo Dicaprio cover that attracted my attention first, it was the article title about you on the cover that convinced me to fork out the remninbis and buy the magazine.
I am a Filipina, US-educated, living and working in China (current home base: Beijing) and have been an ardent reader and fan of your movie critiques and essays for over 10 years now.
I was just turning 30 when I discovered you - single, then living and working in Hong Kong. I turned 40 last month, married for a few, very happy years now, with a German husband, the loveliest man a woman could wish for. Over the past 10 years, I acquired my MBA in New York and moved from Hong Kong to New York then to San Francisco and finally, to Beijing, whilst pursuing my dreams. During this same decade, I experienced what it was like to make too much money too fast at too young an age, lost it all and then some (ending up in debt) and gradually, what it is like to earn it all back and more, with maturity and a more responsible, clearer sense of purpose. Reading the Esquire article, which traced your career so succinctly, made me realise that I have spent the entire decade of my thirties with you.
It was a work colleague from my old firm in Hong Kong who introduced me to you, who, when he discovered my passion for the cinema, declared that you are "the greatest film critic EVER", whereupon, determined that I should be "educated" immediately, he then Googled you and the Chicago Sun-Times site for me. (Patrick,we've lost touch since those carefree, happy days in the old AmEx office in Hong Kong - wherever you are in the world right now, my deepest THANKS to you, hoping you are well!)
Since that day 10 years ago, it has been my Saturday morning ritual to perch on the couch with my laptop, coffee mug in hand, and simply immerse myself in the sheer pleasure of reading your reviews. Hang-overs, work, migraines, gym classes, travel, marriage - none of these have managed to derail this sacred ritual. My nomadic lifestyle across various countries made it difficult to be faithful to television programmes (it was always challenging trying to remember when your TV show would appear), but the internet, thankfully, is global. Friends know that even though I may be in the office on Saturdays during extremely busy weeks ( those "crunch" weeks, as we call it), before the meetings and conference calls can even start, I have to have my coffee and my Saturday morning dose of Ebert first!
THANK YOU, Mr. Ebert, for continuing to provide me with so much joy every week, for unceasingly celebrating your passion for the movies and sharing your gift for the written word. And what a gift! Such wit. Intelligence. Humour. Sensitivity. Keen observations on life, as well as appreciation for the craft of cinema. Words with the power to make me laugh, cry, think, ponder, yearn, fall in love, even entertain naughty thoughts (think about your review for Almodovar's "Broken Embraces") - sometimes, all in a single Saturday morning.
The Esquire article made me cry during that Shanghai-Beijing flight (resulting in strange looks from passengers next to me) - not out of pity for your medical situation, no - although the way you are handling your health difficulties, your courage and quiet dignity, is awe-inspiring.
What touched me most was the part in the article which narrated how you and your wife Chaz simply held hands and walked out of the screening room together. The simplicity of that gesture, I think, was what made it beautiful; it spoke volumes about the deep layers of love and comfort and degree of familiarity in your relationship as a couple, and thus, to me, that was very moving. I'd like to imagine the same picture for husband and myself, someday in the future.
Keep on writin', Mr. Ebert - fight the good fight. I am actually moving to Shanghai very soon in the next few months, to be with my husband in our next new adventure, another future home. Meantime, my Saturday mornings with you await...
Warm greetings to you and Chaz, from Beijing, China.
Diane
Ebert: If I had never started this blog, I would have never received such a message. It makes me feel so good and indeed abashed.
DanEl, people like you remind me of Gandhi's quote: "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians". Because who would want to be a "Christian" if the dominant message is one of judgmental cruelty and a God out for vengeance? Who would worship a God who would punish a kind man like Ebert? Oh, right, the Bible allegedly says that He will (if you cherry pick it the wrong way). And who would want to be a Christian if, instead of going to help people in Haiti, you spend your time harassing a man who is already living a good life?
You just make yourself look foolish and superstitious to freethinkers like Ebert and, in the eyes of the religious like myself, your embarrass me, because you make anyone with a brain or heart rightfully run away from organized religion. I will pray for YOU, DanEl, to stop being so hateful and judgmental and to find God. Because as far as I'm concerned you're the one who is a servant in "Satan"'s propaganda machine (by Satan I mean the negation of everything holy, not some guy with a pitchfork).
I've been thinking about the 39-seat screening room that was referenced in the Esquire article.
Is it open to the public, or only critics?
If only critics, how is it economically viable - given that I'm sure you don't fill up all of the 39 seats as described in the article?
Just wondering...
Ebert: Actually 49 seats, and yes, there are more than enough critics.
You know what, I don't even *like* movies. And I'm reading your every word now. I got hooked by your Twitter feed and now your blog. Do please continue.
ps: I am now reading 'I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie' and intermittently spraying my drink all over the place.
"living rent free in your head"...I love that analogy. Peace and comfort to you.
Wait...is "DanEL" the CAPalert guy?!
Roger,
I saw a feature on Steven Hawkings and the Computerized Voice Systhesizer he uses. I can't remember the company that designed/supplied it, but I believe they are in California. It's not just a matter of vocalizing what you are typing on the computer. With a touch of the finger on a small switch, it 'memorizes' your speach patterns (or something like that)and vocalizes them though a Blackberry-type box. It might be something you might want to check out.
Paul
Dear Mr. Roger,
I am from Bangladesh, aspiring to be a filmmaker. I have been avidly following your writings for the last couple of years, sourcing inspiration. Sir, you have always been living upstairs in a royal suite as a fatherly figure. But I had no idea about your complications. I earnestly apologize.
No matter what, you still are and will remain my true hero.
Sumit.
As always, enjoying many things Ebert. Thank you. This made me remember Matinee by Ted Kooser.
http://www.americanlifeinpoetry.org/columns/124.html
Não estou aqui para comentar o seu comentário ou crítica sobre o referido filme, assim como, espero que esta mensagem chegue até você Roger Ebert; imagino suas dúvidas, medos e angústias neste momento decisivo da vida humana, a morte, ela sempre foi um mistério, há muitos conceitos a respeito dela, contudo quero que você saiba que existe outra vida após esta. Por favor leia na Bíblia Sagrada 1Co 15 - v 53 a 57 "Porque é necessário que este corpo corruptível se revista de incorruptibilidade e o que é mortal de imortalidade, então se cumprirá a palavra que diz: tragada foi a morte pela vitória... pois a morte se alimenta de geração em geração pelo pecado do homem... e graças a Deus nos dá vitória por intermédio de Jesus Cristo. Esta é a fé que nos salva e nos redime da morte eterna e irreversível, pelo menos busque, pelo menos creia, por favor pense e analise com seu coração. Deus te ama e eu também. Deus te abençoe. A paz do Senhor
Dear Mr. Ebert
I have stated in the past posts that I am a struggling screenwriter. What I did not state is that I am a“Verse” screen writer (which is probably the reason I am struggling).I LOVE poetry and I have also toured nationwide and performed at the Apollo theater as a poet.
That being said, a writer at the Sunday Republican (Springfield, MA) who did a human interest story on me suggested I send you a package of poetry care of the Chicago Tribune, given that he knows how much I admire you.
At first I was going to do so but then I debated the idea, because I was once on a speaking tour with a celebrity who found such advances (CD’S, unpublished books etc) obnoxious and would take them only to throw them away or give them to his personal assistant backstage.
I would love to send you some of my poetry on video or in print, but bottom line it would be for your enjoyment, I wouldn’t want to do that if it was a bother. What is your position in respect to this practice?
If you respond here I would appreciate it. But if it is more appropriate please feel free to e-mail me privately at:
sundayschoolproductionsad@gmail.com
Thanks,
Ebert: The characters speak in verse? Well, it worked for Shakespeare.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
A friend of mine brought the Esquire article to my attention. Before I go on I just want to say I've enjoyed your work and commentaries for many years.
I have been working with a couple specialists at Johns Hopkins and developed a method for people who have lost their voice. You can look at the The Striking Voice URL for more information. Simply put, this program was initially developed for people suffering from throat cancer. It gives them another option to speak. This method employs using a musical instrument, the trump, better know as the jews harp. It requires teeth, lips, tongue and 2 hands. If you can press the instrument to your teeth, you can talk.
I don't expect to hear from you, but if you do get in touch I can send you a brochure at your request. Recently I've been working with people suffering from Parkinsons'.
I wish you very well. You're a marvelous man and wish you all the very best.
Sincerely,
Wayne Hankin
Dear Mr. Ebert
I am currently reading a rather inspiring book entitled “Failing Forward” about how to best respond to failure.
In that book it cites several specific examples of historic men and women (some of whom I greatly admire)who failed generously on there way to success.
As I have stated in past posts I am adore your body of work so I decided to briefly research your bio and was shocked to discover your journey seems like one great ascent towards the well accomplished scholar you have become today.
So I decided to go directly to the source and ask... Mr. Ebert looking back at your life have you ever “failed forward”? Have you ever fallen, or suffered a defeat that later helped shape you for the better?
If not, it is just as well, and if so as a struggling screenwriter on the verge, I would love to know.
Thanks,
SB
My husband and I raised our wine glasses in your honor last night. You have become an unintentional hero for bravely facing the future (that we all face) with a calm dignity and grounded philosophical insights. Some voices naturally rise above the din, and sometimes when we're very lucky they actually speak words that make sense and convey the deepest truths. We hear you.
Hi Roger,
I just wanted to share this with you. I just returned from a trip to Kenya and I met a couple from Chicago on my same tour. I spoke to them about being a film student and how you were my first and (to this day) greatest influence. They said they knew and would see you each Sunday at a famous pancake house in Chicago, I forgot the name of the pancake house (I'm from Boston) but they spoke so highly of you and Chazz and said that you were one of the nicest people they ever met and Chicago is very proud of you. I think this article captured the essence of your strength as a person.
Oh Roger,
I don't think you realize that your sort of a hero for all of us non-chiseled cheeked American men. We're those who, when asked what celebrity we look like the most, have no answer because anybody who looks like us, can't become a celebrity. You, however, pushed through with your intellect and humor so far that they put your mug on TV for 20 years. You never were Clark Gable, and neither were we. And we lived vicariously through you, believing that our intellect and wit could overshadow God's imperfections bestowed upon us.
Don't you get it Rodge? Nobody ever cared what you looked like. We cared what you thought. If we cared about what you looked like, you would have had a very successful radio show (for that matter, you don't have a TV show today not because of your looks, but because of your lack of speech).
And now, today, still nobody cares. What a freedom.
I am a huge fan of Roger Ebert. Before I watch ANY movie I always look up the film on the ebert website. Then i read Ebert's review again after seeing the movie and discover so much more so most of the time the movie demands another viewing. Roger Ebert is a great writer, I have never thought of him as anything but that...a writer...and a damn good one at that. Ebert reminds you of the desires and excitements that first made you love movies in the first place. Ebert is in that fine place of great critics, there along with Gene Siskel and Pauline Kael, he has a never ending passion for film and filmmakers, a love affair that will never end....Roger Ebert you are awesome!
Roger ive been a fan{can reviewers have fans} of yours as long as i can remember.I dont hang on any one persons word but i confess that if i need a dependable opinion on a movie i see Roger first.Hardly am i disappointed.Thanks for your Honesty.
Roger, I was a journalism student at C-U one year behind you. I fell in love with your writing in the Daily Illini. While your column has remained one of my fondest memories, my husband shares yours, the Steak n Shake on Green Street. Wish we could have met but have always been interested in your life and career so was pleased to find Esquire article. You may not look like yourself 45 years later but you don't look bad.
I am so glad you did the interview. I miss you so much, those weekly Sunday rendezvous in my living room. I often wondered what you were up to. The article made me cry as it seems to have made many others. I think Pinto said it well "I hope you realize that almost all of us can hear your voice in your writing; all of that time with you in our living rooms means your sounds are heard by us without you using your vocal cords. Familiarity and respect also let others take up room in our minds rent-free."
Thank you for doing this journal. Forget DaniEl. I'm glad you haven't found god.
Loved the article. Bravo you, and bravo Chris. I took one of your classes about 8 years ago -- what makes for a good film, I think. What a pleasure! You started with Errol Morris's Gates of Heaven, I remember, and really opened my eyes even wider to the pleasures of movies. You never once patronized us, and you treated our comments with respect. Your book Awake in the Dark is like a box of bonbons -- I consumer just one piece of film criticism at a time, and it lasts me for days. Thanks for being unfraid to be yourself in print and for sharing your love for movies.
Mr. Ebert,
Some 25 or so years ago, you were in New Orleans to speak at a television convention. My assignment was to take you to lunch. I don't recall where it was or what we ate but I never forgot the conversation. It was delightful, candid, unaffected to downright ordinary—and my pleasure.
Thank you for your company!
Best wishes!
For God's sake, Roger, just repent already. It doesn't matter if you've led a good life, been a kind man, put others before yourself. If DaniEl says you're going to hell, then by God, you must be.
If I thought DaniEl was legitimately concerned about your faith, I might tell him that wagging your finger at someone and issuing threats and warnings aren't the best ways to tell someone about your beliefs. But I don't think he's concerned about you at all. Anyone who tells a person they've never met before in their life that they're going to hell if they don't ask for God's forgiveness isn't actually looking to enlighten them, or convert them. He just wants to prove his own righteousness. What he probably DOESN'T realize, though, is that the very act of threatening someone because they don't share the same beliefs as you proves he's NOT righteous. He's just a bigot who likes to hear the sound of his own voice.
Here's something for you to consider, DaniEl. Roger Ebert takes the time to respond to thousands of comments, and he especially tries to give encouragement to the younger commentors. All acounts from people who have met him have nothing but the most positive things to say; how kind he was and how he always took the time to talk to fans. He's given more to his readers than any other writer I can think of. And these are just the things you can learn from reading his blog.
Now let's look at you. It's true I know next to nothing about you, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume you're a dick. You threaten someone you've never met with an eternity of pain because he doesn't agree with you, then try to make it look like you're doing it out of the kindness of your heart. Roger may not believe Jesus Christ died for his sins, but he's led a good life of his own accord. You, it seems, have not. So if you look at the facts, it's actually a lot more likely that YOU'LL be going to hell. I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you. (I'll pray for you.)
Give 'em hell Rog! I want to be able to do something with my career that is as stunning and powerful, game-changing really, as what you have done with yours. Keep it up, i'm moving to Dublin to study journalism and write, write, write
DaniEl just creeped me out.
...
Anyway, I know this is off-topic, but Roger, the out-guess Ebert contest entries don't allow people who live in American Samoa to enter. :[ We only have two movies at a time, here, but stilllllll...
Maybe there can be an unofficial one run on your blog, or something like it?
Roger, I was very moved by the article in Esquire. The moment in which you search for your tribute to Gene but it isin't there anymore is heartbreaking. It strengthens my opinion of you: you may have lost your voice, but in return you have displayed a great amount of not resilience but also wisdom about how to take life and it's upturns.
And also, It has made you create this blog, which is so compelling. How brave of you to share all this information about you! And most importantly, it has allowed me to write to you.
So, congratulations Roger, and't don't listen to that poor, sad little man of DaniEl. How could God possibly hate you, when He has blessed us with you?
Cheers,
Agus
PS: I know that I'm posting the link to my Spansih blog, but it's that I've decided to close down After Movies. Sorry, it's too diffcult for me to write in two blogs and two different languages (at least I tried). :)
There were times in Old Town when your face looked a lot stranger to me than it does in those photos. I think this had more to do with my behavior than your looks in those days, however, which means that this post has opened the door to the old debate about the "thing in itself" that John Locke and the rationalists believed in as opposed to Kant's assertion that we only experience our perception of things, not the things themselves. My hunch on this is that John Locke never hung out in Old Town, and if he had, that Mike Tuohy would have beat him up.
Back on this side of the looking glass, I like your prose better than ever. Thanks.
Ebert: It may also have had something to do with my behavior :)
A wonderful Esquire article and a wonderful response.
Without meaning to be ghoulish, it reminds me a how important your reviews and blogs are to me and that these one day will have an end. Your writing has come to occupy the same place in my life that Alistair Cooke used to hold with his 'Letter From America'. May you keep going as long as him and may you always enjoy it...
As always, I enjoyed your words in the article concerning Gene Siskel. Do you remember this conversation with Howard Stern? Gene had your back - it might be a nice memory for you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZOR8ToiLwU&feature=PlayList&p=B9A53AF695F9FE5D&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=18
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPkoxox3sb0&NR=1
I saw the picture. I thought, "Who is that? I know, I know who that is." It's the eyes. I know the eyes. Then I saw that it was Roger Ebert. "Oh wow." Then I read.
Kind of sad, but really the article is far more heartening in the telling. It's wonderful to see someone that we all "know" who's in the public eye, and is in reality a far greater human being than the persona on television, or the image put forth through the media. Far too frequently the people plastered across our public consciousness these days are really kind of vapid and vacant souls sprinkled with glitter.
Esquire presents itself these days, in part, as something along the lines of an "Instruction Manual" on how to be a Man. Well Mr. Ebert shows the kind of fortitude in the midst of a rather extreme physical and emotional trial that everyone can use to model themselves upon if and when such things should befall them.
Every good wish to you, Mr. Ebert, and to all of those close to you.
@ DaniEl wrote:
"Jennifer; One cannot convince a man that he needs a cure, when he denies that he is ill. Roger has been a servant in Satan's propaganda machine for decades, promoting a culture of lust, violence, drugs, death and lies and he will need to answer for it one day soon."
Yes, yes he has. And I can prove it...
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_satan.jpg
At least, I know I wouldn't have spent nearly so much time puttering around in Photoshop last night, had a Devil not been prodding me to it. :)
Ebert: I will never again feel guilty about asking you to do a Photoshop FOR me :)
I'm going to go ahead spit it out... I never really thought much of Roger Ebert...not because I found anything that was really disagreeable or counter to my ethos but due to the fact that he was the jovial "yes guy" to Siskel.
In retrospect, of course, my opinion was based on very little and very fragmented data. The more I read his current writing and, actually, upon reflecting on my memories of the show, the more I realize what a doofus I was. It doesn't hurt that my political persuasion, and my ideas on religion mirror his. Of course, this makes his perspective more valuable (well, the progressive, secular humanist view of things is the correct one and don't you impugn it! No, really. Don't ;)
I also respect his broad, yet detailed, knowledge base regarding things that I don't know a lot about...(e.g. the history of cinema or foreign film.)
And last of all....Thanks for this blog, Mr. Ebert!
Hello, Mr. Ebert.
I have so much to say, but going on and on will just take you away from the writing that makes me come back to this place again and again. You've spread your dreams out under our feet, and I can only hope I have trod lightly.
So I'll just say thank you. You can probably imagine why.
My regards,
William Farlin Cain III
Re: DaniEl,
Although, this is a hit and run comment, I bet: you haven't read Roger's blog titled "Go gently into that good night" have you? (which is featured in the article that I bet you didn't read; click my name if you want to read it just in case I'm wrong about you.)
Trying to scare someone (who isn't afraid of death) just shows how much you know.
"Time is short and I will continue to pray for you."
You apparently don't also know that he lives in Chicago where the weather has been freezing, which means that discomfort slows down time and is relative, which means right now time is probably pretty long to people up north right now.
Hey, Roger, I saw you had answered a few of these comments, so I'd like to ask you the Most Important Question in the History of Film: Why is Winston Wolf wearing a tuxedo and apparently attending a party at 8 (or so) in the morning? Is he up late, or partying early? I've been to a lot of parties in my time, but never one that required a tux before breakfast. If you know of a party like this, I'm there. Give 'em my email.
P.S. My wife and I have been spending friday nights having a slow, leisurely dinner while reading your reviews for that week for many years now. Thanks.
Ebert: He still has it on, or has a wedding the same day, or didn't have anything else clean.
Roger:
There's a place in Thailand called Ao Nang
in Krabi. It might be a wonderful place for
you and your beautiful wife to visit. You
can sit on the beach and the most interesting
characters spin by. It is a gateway small city
to many interesting islands, including the
famous Phi Phi island (where Leonardo's
"The Beach" was filmed.
It is warm and when the frequent daytime rain comes, one is refreshed and somehow washed in
joy.
Cheers---Peter Pickles
I was prior unaware of the expansive nature of your previous year or two of journal writing; I thought you'd been writing non-review ruminations for years. I've read so many of them, commented a bit, received a reply from you once, and learning of the role they played in your recent condition makes me all the more pleased to have been an active reader. That you, again, responded once, will stick with me for good.
Keep writing - it's great.
Roger exploded on the Sun-Times newsroom scene in my mind when he wrote the definitive obit for Walt Disney.
I read the piece at my desk in the biz section and thought, "Wow, who the hell's this Roger Ebert."
It wasn't long before he became the movie critic, and soon everyone knew Roger and his buddies.
Roger,
What a fantastic talent and career and you're still thrilling your readers. May your Mac hum for many more reviews and essays.
What's wonderful is that even though your body has failed you much too early in life, your mind and talent continue to shine.
All the best,
Don
Ebert: Hi Don. Actually, my body has failed me no more than surgery required it to, so I shouldn't complain.
I read your entry, and then the Esquire article, and then let it stew for a day or so.
I've never met you, and likely never will. But your situation reminds me of my neighbor, a dear woman, bright, a teacher of nursing, the beloved wife of a world-class sculptor and highly decorated World War II P-51 pilot, dead some 15 years. Just for kicks, she went to Catholic seminary and got a master's in theology. Now in her 80s, she will soon be undergoing a second operation for a melanoma that surfaced stealthily, unpigmented, on her face. I see her or chat every day and have decided that the best thing I can do for her is to treat her as though she is whole and perfect. And indeed, the soul of her still is.
I have another friend who is being treated for lung cancer, and from each of them I've heard of supposed friends who treat them as "dead women walking." So perhaps Mr. Siskel was right to keep his own health problems so private. Sometimes people, when caught off-guard, can be cruelly stupid.
I'm glad you have Chaz--and I'm glad she has you. Beyond that, what else matters?
All men cannot receive this saying, save they to whom it is given (Matthew 19:11)...unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required (Luke 12:48)...with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged!
We who understand the meaning of these verses tend to be considerably less judgmental of others! That having been said...(and the setting aside of religious dogmas)...
Mr Ebert,
I thank you for the many years of enjoyment I have experienced watching you critique movies. Whether or not I personally agreed with you on specifics did not matter. What mattered then (and now) is your honesty. You spelled out why you did or did not appreciate certain reels of celluloid. Each of us who had seen the particular movie you were reviewing became instant critics (with you) - either loathing your blunt dismissals of a films merits or [more often than not] agreeing with your assessment (either in whole or in part).
The point of the programs the several programs involved (to me at least) was to be not only informed but to be entertained as well and I was always entertained (whenever I took the time to partake). For that I thank you so very much!
I was unaware and saddened to learn of your current health issues. I wish you only the very best, sir, always.
respectfully, Mic Hudson
When I read your reviews and your blog, I learn how to look at films and look at the world. You look at the world with joy and transform pain and suffering into good writing, efficiently produced.
You're behaving the way most all of us wish we could handle adversity. Few of us manage as well. By living your life as you do and working the way you do, you're a great role model. You're worthy of emulation and adulation; you deserve both.
Thank you.
Dear Roger,
Just spent the last couple hours reading the esquire stuff, the comments, your responses, and other linked stuff.
I'm not sure what to say, except thanks for everything. i don't see much TV and I didn't know about all this. But I do learn a lot from you, cause I read your reviews, and don't fret, i can hear your voice in my head as I do.
I think its great that your middle name is "Full Disclosure". i guess its no secret people download movies, especially poor people. And I read your review first, and often times only. We don't have the same taste all the time, but your openness lets me know if I'll like it. And I totally love your aversion to bad art.
I just saw "My Neighbor Tortoro", and I saw it because off you. You know the film, the animated Japanese thing..When Tortoro gets an umbrella from Satsuki, or when he roars and rises from his bower to save the day...when the Catbus yowls "Meiii" before its run..well I just cried. And I'm a 53 year old man. Hell, I'm crying now.
You take care. I'm gonna read more of you than ever. That part in your Esquire reply, that part in italics about making life better for each other..well my original discipline was biology...and if I may quote a decent "B" movie, (The very hot Milla Jovovich in The Fifth Element) "Defend life...until death.." And that's what I like about you.
One of the other posters said that the longer he looked at your photo the less he saw the scarring and the more he saw your super coolness.
Ok he didn't say it like that. He said you're still the same, the same eyes. That was how I felt too. I see you... you know? In your eyes, like that guy said...and i hear you when you write...
Lee Marvin was a tough SOB, but he was kind of mean and narcissistic. I'll tell you what, you're tougher than Lee ever was and three times as good. We salute you and wish you and yours all the best. I'll be reading what you have to say. As Patrick Mc Goohan would say, "Be seeing you!"
Great article here and in Esquire. I enjoyed the light touch in describing your illness. All throughout the articles I felt your sense of joy and never once felt sorry for you. It really brought home the journey you and your wife are experiencing. It sounds like you are at peace and for that you should be applauded. Best wishes to you. And I am using your wife's quote tomorrow at work.
Dear Roger,
A friend of a close friend once got his first film produced and then purchased at a festival, and I remember how excited he was for the initial showings... they had good backing and the company that bought the film wanted to do a big advertising push. I've never been around the film industry, so I was fascinated to hear how much work, expectation and money went into just the release of a film, much less the actual production itself. I lived in a different state than this person and so I'd hear brief things about what was happening, about how nervous this person was about the film coming out.
The film came out, and a great deal of the reviews came back negative, and the film didn't make much money. Because my friend's friend was the first person I actually knew who had made a film, it was no longer like the reviews were talking about some abstract individual I'd never met before; they were talking about someone who was excited to do what he had been dreaming about for a long time, and had good intentions. When I'd read some of the crueler reviews I was saddened, because I knew this filmmaker was reading them and was probably very downed by them as well.
And then I came across your review of his film, and you were so positive--it wasn't even my film, I hadn't put the time that he had into it, had nothing invested in it like he did, and yet your review of another's work really meant something to me, because yours was the only review I saw that treated him like a human being with feelings and seemed to go from that premise to write an honest assessment of his work. I thought that was a really beautiful thing in and of itself; it made the world seem smaller in a way, in the sense that you could empathize so much with someone you probably had never met. In any case I just wanted to write this out to you.
Best wishes:)
Jordan
I wept while I read the article but by the end I was thinking, "What a guy, what a great guy!"
I know that engaging in a debate on the internet with people who are apparently incapable of rational thought is pointless, but I'm pretty pissed.
I read an immensely moving article about Roger Ebert, a man who is apparently loved by everyone around him, a man who has created a place of joyous interchange and civil debate on the web, a man who has given of his own time to respond to my thoughts several times (me, someone he has never met), a man who has made a career out of helping others discover how film can be great art and why it so often is not. And someone has the absolute gall to imply that he knows Roger's eternal fate if he does not repent?
Listen, DaniEl, I don't know where you think you got your theological insight from, but I have news for you: you don't even understand your own religion.
You talk about Satan. Apparently you are a Manichean, in that you believe God actually has an opponent. But God is all-powerful, right? How can an all-powerful being have an opponent? Why wouldn't an all-powerful being simply seal up this opponent in some sort of cosmic mayonnaise jar and send it to the furthest reaches of the cosmos? Or just kill him? God apparently has nothing against killing on a massive scale, after all. Moreover, how could an all-knowing and omni-benevolent God create Satan in the first place? As Saint Augustine argued (having been a Manichean and repented of it), Manicheanism is heresy because it implies a less-than-perfect God. If you believe in Satan, you might want to look into Zoroastrianism. It's a perfectly nice religion, with Good (personified as Ahura Mazda) battling Evil (Ahriman) until Good finally triumphs in the fullness of time, but it's not Christianity.
But then perhaps Satan -- knowingly or unknowingly -- serves God's purposes. But if Satan is the source of evil in this world, the culture of lust and drugs and violence that you rail against, how can he serve the purpose of a benevolent God? Of course, in reality the word "Satan" is a corruption of the Hebrew "al-satan," which translates as something like "the adversary" and who is, in the book of Job, God's employee, sort of like a prosecuting attorney or tax auditor, and who -- with God's full permission -- ruins poor Job's life as a test. Oh, and al-satan cannot have any connection with the serpent in the Garden of Eden, since al-satan is not crawling on the ground and eating dust in Job. But the Satan you are talking about does not seem to be the one in Job, since in that case "pimping for Satan" would indirectly make one God's employee as well.
Then perhaps God is not benevolent (and indeed in the Old Testament He clearly is not, as we see in Joshua 6:20, when he has even children put to the sword after the fall of Jericho). But then why would He be deserving of our worship? Why should we worship a being whose love and mercy is less than perfect? For further thoughts on why this makes no sense, consider reading Julian(a) of Norwich, the great Christian mystic of the middle ages.
But perhaps the point is to give human beings the free will to choose good over evil. But wouldn't an omniscient God who exists outside of time already know which choice everyone will make? This realization led Calvin -- I won't suggest you read him, since he is rather a bore -- to talk about the Elect. But then free will is an illusion, so why would it matter whether Roger chooses to repent or not?
There have been profound Christian thinkers: Augustine, John Chrysostom, Julian(a), Hildegard von Bingen, Thomas Aquinas (though I think him rather over-rated), Blaise Pascal, G. K. Chesterton (much better than the absurd C. S. Lewis), Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Simone Weil, and many more. They disagree about many things. You know what at least most of them would agree on? Any person who presumes to know the mind of God and the way that any other human being's account stands with Heaven is guilty of the most hateful presumption.
Of course, I don't really expect you to study theology seriously. You said it yourself: you've been afflicted with a disabling disease, and what you want from God is peace, forgiveness, and unqualified love. I can't begrudge you that.
But too often those who seek God end up finding Him in a mirror. Oh, God is bigger, older, and more powerful than them, but miraculously He likes the people they like, hates the people they hate, and agrees with them on all the important issues of the day. Michelangelo decides to paint God. Michelangelo is a middle-aged Italian guy with a Roman nose. Michelangelo's God is a slightly older Italian-looking guy with a Roman nose and great abs, though he also has a receding hairline (apparently God does pilates but can't get his hands on propecia). What are the odds?
In all seriousness, when your conception of God's love leads -- nay, requires -- you to presume that you know that God's love and mercy includes you but excludes one of your fellow human beings, a man whom you do not even know, you are committing the sin of pride and perverting the very gospels you claim to revere.
It is not your place to attempt to threaten Roger with judgment. You are not God's surrogate. Should you wish to pray for him fine -- as Ambrose Bierce said to his sister, "That will hurt neither of us." Of course, Ralph Waldo Emerson said that any prayer for anything other than universal good was vicious.
But then again, the Christian (Neo-Platonist, but this is no time to quibble) philosopher Dionysius the Areopagite said that because God is infinite and language is finite, no prayer or even discussion of God could be adequate. He even said you can't say "God exists" because both the word "God" and the word "exists" (he was speaking in Greek, but you get the idea) were inadequate to express the reality.
Is all this too much for you? Well, then I'll just quote Matthew 7:
"Judge not lest ye be judged."
Kudos to Mr. Jones on a beautifully-written article and to you for such a bold and honest look at life. It's truly inspiring to know that while circumstances have given you every reason conceivably to give up, you have done the exact opposite and with your wife by your side, have accepted each challenge to find your own voice again and to keep doing what you so very much love to do. Thank you for allowing your readers to keep up with that process with you. I just got to begin reading your journal last year, and have appreciated keeping up with you beyond just your movie reviews. I finished reading the article feeling inspired by your example.
Roger,
To know a person is to know their limits of tolerance and predictibility. A face isn't necessary, but I don’t guess we really know each other; or those others who post here. Knowing someone requires personal encounters over time, where conflict and struggle are involved.
Our faces to the world change as we near death; not to say it need be horrible or ugly -- I used to think aging to be something respectable and dignified in appearance; not a degeneration; after all, all the 'great men' had aged faces from Darwin, Einstein; to you even .... Though you look more like a super geek than you should (trust me, they did a good job; I could show you some who didn't come out near so tolerable to look at after such surgeries -- and my poor uncle...what a bloody mess). But, that was a good line about 'rent free' opinions.
Yesterday, a Face Book friend asked me, and all, to post a prewritten little homily and prayer -- a recognition of those we love or have lost to cancer, and those who fight this awful malady.
I didn't, because it was one of those ‘8% will and 92 percent won't’, post it challenges – ‘are you amongst the unwashed masses?’, Mr.'Sunshine' here took issue with that, but I did send her a 'thumbs up' as she grieved for her father – ironically a man who almost destroyed my life before I was 20. What a world?
I'll email you my visage, as I see it, public face, and Face Book info; since you've been kind enough to respond to some of my remarks -- I'd, in any case, want to see the face of who I converse with ... even if it be just one in tens of thousands.
Regards, er rather, Cheers!
RDS
.
I was surprised by the "Last Words" title and thought it was incredibly brave to have the photo published.
I think the people at Disney forgot that we didn't tune in to listen to your voice--it didn't have the melodious quality of Gregory Peck. Nor did we tune in because you were handsome as Robert Redford or Peck.
I enjoyed watching two critics who were willing to speak intelligently about film and enlighten me about films I might otherwise miss. I have to say the the chemistry between Siskel was the best.
As I mentioned before, I felt that the network producers failed to consider what having a handicapped commentator might mean and instead of innovating, they went in reverse. The world has changed with the Internet and computers. There's a movie out which I hope to see about deaf performers and I've already seen a few musicals by a deaf acting group based in Los Angeles.
Yet with the missed opportunity on the part of the networks, this blog has become an amazing community with a global reach. In ways you're writing has become more personal and vivid. Your readers now know you more as a person. In a way, this serves as the skeleton of an autobiography.
As for the dying in increments, I think that sounds like the traditional way of thinking of old age. I believe, as you stated, we are all dying in increments, but some of us are just too foolish to realize it and fail to appreciate life's little pleasures.
Yesterday I had to relive an unpleasant segment of my life that involved the injury and death of my dog in the prime of his life in small claims court. I bring this up because I feel that dogs serve or at least should serve as reminders of how life is so short and the punchline is, of course, we (adult humans) would all be dead in dog years.
Ebert: Dogs are on earth to expose us to the concept of unconditional love.
Im a 37 year old commodities trader. No one you'd ever particularly think about, but if you ever read this I just wanted to say "thanks." Thanks for teaching me what a good movie looks like. Along with Siskel, your show was the first "critical" media I was ever exposed to (it came on right after the Electric Company on PBS at the time). I continue to find your reviews amongst the most relevent to my tastes.
Thanks also for "Beyond the Vally of the Dolls." I discovered that movie sometime after the Electric Company but like it on several levels. Not least importantly because it takes a certain kind of critic to create rather than deconstruct. It changed the way I felt about your opinion.
Finally, thanks for this article, and its followup. Grace is understated. I will be so happy to follow your work until one of us kicks the bucket. Im not sure who that will be but here's hoping its a long way off. I also hope you get to see Leonard Cohen live, if you havent already. Cheers!
Hey, Tracey D., maybe Roger can't enjoy your cookies, but you should ask Chaz what she likes?
But seriously, I've bumped into you a time or twice, Roger, and of course barely been able to get beyond "Hi." Once way back at the Chicago International Film Festival tribute to you and Gene, where I tried to ask some question that might provoke a thoughtful answer. Again in 1992, when did volunteer security at an event for Bill Clinton, and you just were there next to me at the door, and the best I could say was, "He's a tall drink of water, isn't he." And maybe five years ago I passed you on the sidewalk on Lake St., near the Ch. 7 studio or the reviewing theatre, but you were obviously in a hurry.
Yet, here on this blog, even under your circumstances, I and a few hundred others can be part of a dialogue with you, and maybe even provoke a reply that validates my whole reason for wasting time on the internets.
I'll always raise my glass to the guy who demonstrated that movies not only have a serious place in our world, but that they should still be fun.
I finally forwarded the link to the Esquire article to my friends and family today, suggesting that if their friends haven't sent them the article already, they need to reconsider their taste in friends.
(Even though, as a fellow liberal-type-guy, I scratched my head over your four-star-review of "Avatar" once I finally saw it. Doesn't the message they've trying to convey lose its effectiveness when it's about as subtle as the "Captain Planet" cartoon. Well, that's another post. At least my kid loved it, and I got to see it in a restored 1928 theatre, still with its one big screen but with digital projection!)
Roger, did you happen to get my reference to the CAPalert guy? Have you ever seen this? capalert.com.
It is unbelievable! You have to check it out. I thought it was a joke at first, but it is no joke. I really believe he's your concerned pal DaniEL :) Who else cares that much about film AND damning other people to hell? And I'm fascinated by the CapAlert guy's attempts to make a living trying to catch unseemly displays of the female form.
I need to know if you know of him and his reviews! :)
Ebert: You have to really, really want to know what they think of a film to take the time to negotiate that site.
I hope God is glad DanEL is going to Heaven when he dies; I know I am.
Thanks again for all the pimping, but feel free to go easier on 3D. I kind of like it.
Satan
Hi, Roger,
I too was very moved and entertained by Chris Jones' splendid Esquire article. I can't add much new to the thoughtful, articulate comments of your regular correspondents, but I certainly share them.
I want to specifically thank you for passing along this wonderful line from Robert Zonka:
"When you tell a joke that diminishes anybody, it diminishes me."
What a sentence! I wish more of us (professional comedians and water-cooler joke tellers alike) would remember that line before opening our mouths.
As a fan of the great Chicago folk musicians like Steve Goodman and John Prine, you might have encountered U. Utah Phillips at one time or another. He didn't live in Chicago but played regularly at venues like Holstein's and the Earl of Old Town. Utah was quite the character, a brilliant songwriter, political activist, tall-tale teller, IWW Wobbly, and community builder. Utah laced his concerts with jokes, from countless one-liners to long detail-laden stories that sounded completely true until he finally reached an unexpected punchline ten minutes after he started. I once heard him talk about how he collected jokes but then put enormous thought into reworking them, to retain the core punchline but to make sure that the joke itself didn't demean anyone along the way. He'd hear a joke that, say, was built around a negative ethnic stereotype or was misogynistic, and he'd completely rewrite it to strip away any such negative effects, yet retain the humor.
I should stress that Utah was highly political and used his humor to make strong points; he was not shy about using salty language either. So he wasn't turning jokes into sweet "Chicken Soup for the Soul" parables, and he was more than happy to throw barbs at those who held power and fortune at the expense of the working class. (Such as: "The upper crust....that's a bunch of crumbs held together by a wad of dough.") But otherwise, his humor was consciously constructed to elevate rather than diminish men and women.
Utah's approach to jokes (and his music too) echoed Woody Guthrie's famous comment:
"I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at you on account of your bad luck or hard traveling. I am out to fight those songs to my very last breath of air and my last drop of blood. I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world and that if it has hit you pretty hard and knocked you for a dozen loops, no matter what color, what size you are, how you are built, I am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in your work. And the songs that I sing are made up for the most part by all sorts of folks just about like you."
Or, as you said in Esquire, "If, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime."
Thanks for all of the inspiration, Roger.
I've been a fan of Roger Ebert since he and Gene Siskel first started their Sneak Preview series reviewing movies. The chemistry between the two was both entertaining and insightful, and I miss both and think of them both whenever I watch a movie reviewer on TV. But I was blown away by the strength and courage of Roger Ebert that I saw in the Esquire interview. I now understand that the insightfulness that Roger has had as a movie critic extends to his view of life. I am in awe of his courage and of the model he has set for people going through any kind of medical challenge, and have immense respect for him.
Richard Nanian wrote on February 24, 2010 1:39 AM:
But too often those who seek God end up finding Him in a mirror.
Reminds me of this exchange from the very underrated The Ruling Class (1972), in which Peter O'Toole is an aristocrat who believes himself to be God:
Lady Claire Gurney: How do you know you're God?
Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred Gurney, 14th Earl of Gurney: Simple. When I pray to Him, I find I am talking to myself.
The photos definitely shocked me. I knew that you had been sick, but I never really followed the story enough to realize just what the surgery had meant. You're right, the image most definitely intrigued me enough to read the article.
I would like you to know that you're literally the only critic whose opinion I respect and value. Because of you (and your page on this site) I was introduced to one of my favorite films, Séraphine (2008). Also, I think you should review Un Prophète. I'm extremely curious to read what you think of it.
I posted a comment yesterday in rebuttal to DaniEl, but I can't seem to find it on here. I can understand if you're just tired of the whole thing, but I saw a that a couple other commentors' responses to DaniEl were posted, so I was curious why mine wasn't. I realize it probably wasn't the most polite thing to say, but I didn't think it was particularly offensive or mean-spirited. Or maybe it had nothing to with that and was just lost in the spam filter? Just wanted to know.
I have the first show you did after Gene's death on tape. I'd be happy to send you a copy if you like.
I really believe he's your concerned pal DaniEL :) Who else cares that much about film AND damning other people to hell?
Let's keep our internet cranks straight, please! A quick Google search shows that Roger's well wisher DaniEL Ben Freeman is a crank who prophesied that San Francisco and Los Angeles "will be destroyed by fire and brimstone from heaven" on Yom Kippur last year, September 2009. Google shows that DaniEL made this highly specific prophecy on Richard Dawkin's and a prison forum (DaniEL says that he did some time himself), and even created his own blog and released a youtube video detailing the exquisite torments that await the residents of these two cities, or would have, had his prophesy come to pass.
After DaniEL's failed prophesy—perhaps DaniEL has since learned never to specify an actual date, he deleted his blog thejudgmentofsanfranciscoluke17.blogspot.com and youtube video, but thanks to the wonders of Google cache, his writing and film both live for everyone to enjoy!
But DaniEL is absolutely correct to call Roger Satan's pimp. According to Martin Luther, "reason is the Devil's whore," and Roger is among the most reasonable intellects alive. Keep pimping for Satan, Roger.
On your replies:
Ebert: Yep, I've been reading them all. Including the one informing me I am the pimp of Satan. Overwhelmed? No. It's only when I question Creationism that I get overwhelmed. Wait...wait! I don't need another 7,114 comments!
Now, that was funny.
Ebert: But I am not a self-professed athiest. I am a self-professed non-professor.
Okay, so... you do not profess to believe in God. You just profess not to professing in not believing in God? Heck. Even if I said it right, I'm not even sure if I got it. Sounds like your straddling the fence with a determined effort not to fall on one side or the other.
And oh yeah, btw, my fave Marie Haws pic was with you as Marcello, but the one with you as Bond was the most complimentary. Glad to see Marie didn't do you as the Joker. That would've been too easy. Instead, she took the high road. Nice.
I thought I posted yesterday. Perhaps leaving out the URL was the problem? I certainly hope that the content wasn't inappropriate... I can't imagine it was.
Like many on this site, I am here because of the Esquire article. Although before reading the article I had heard about your health issues and decided to search the web (out of medical curiosity, we physicians are weird, I guess.) I was also driven by memories of "At the Movies." I remember watching it, although I didn't think it was "cool" and I mistakenly thought you were too forgiving in your reviews. Evidently, the show interested me and affected me more than I thought. I was delighted to find out that you were a rational, secular, informed and compassionate person in your politics and opinions.
It is always said that people who have gone through medical trials and tribulations are "strong" or "courageous" to have "continued on." Personally, I don't think that there are too many choices when you are in that sort of position. What I think makes you courageous is your frank, blunt and open attitude. You have opened yourself up to the public in a personal way and you deserve to reap the benefits, which include a huge audience of people that respect you and genuinely like what they read and see about you.
I look forward to reading more of this blog.
Love the article! It's a well done piece that respects Ebert and all that he's been through. I truly respect him both as a person and as a movie reviewer.
I've been a fan, along with my mother since both you and Siskel were on the air. The both of you did a good job in terms of movie reviewing overall. In spite of each others' views on movies -- you both respected one another. This is something that is sadly missing in reviews today. Apart from your work with Richard Roeper -- which was a small, yet bittersweet reprieve -- there just isn't that kind of atmosphere around in reviewing for the most part anymore.
It's just a sea of opinions, viewpoints and bias. Heck, Richard Roeper is one of the few of today's reviewers with a similar reviewing style to yours -- one that not only voices opinions and viewpoints, but backs them up as well. For the most part -- that is the kind of review that I -- as a fellow movie goer -- respect.
Most of the reviews that I have read over the recent years have felt empty... just pale comparisons to ones that you've done. I've wondered -- at times -- if some of them are 'plants'... just negative reviews for the sake of them. That the movie companies have so little faith or whatever in their films, that they'd have some no-name reviewers slander it in some way so that no one would go and see it. Just reading reviews like these, depress me. And I was wondering, What are your thoughts on this issue?
To see reviews go down this sad path -- where some of them don't even back up what they liked about a movie, etc. -- is just a downright shame. I don't even pay attention to most of them. The only ones that I even gave any credence to were yours and Roeper's.
Also... I took one of your past reviews into account, the one for the latest X-Files movie, I Want to Believe. Almost everybody and their brother had nothing but negative comments and reviews about it, but yours did not. It was truly a breath of fresh air. And for the most part I agreed with it.
The movie was well worth the watch and not a waste of money. Sadly though, the theater that my mom, a friend of mine and myself went to in order to see it at, closed down within a matter of months.
This theatre was the same one that I had seen other films in over the years, including the first X-Files movie, Fight the Future, in. And it was the third one to close in the past few years. Sad, really to see so few people going to movies anymore.
What are your thoughts on this sad issue (all of the theatres closing)?
Also -- for any of us aspiring movie and video game reviewers out there -- what tips can you give us to help us improve our reviews/reviewing styles?
Sorry -- for such a long post here :). I just had a lot to say. You are truly a national treasure, Roger, and I hope that you're around reviewing movies, etc., for a long time to come.
I'm completely in awe of your courage during this challenging part of your life. And I respect you now more than ever.
I used one of Marie's shops to create a new banner for you.
http://i50.tinypic.com/23thwts.jpg
Ebert: I'm switching to this immediately.
Marie's pictures of you are wonderful!
By Marie Haws on February 23, 2010 4:58 AM
I laughed out loud - we need a special gallery of Roger Ebert IN the movies
My Photochop skills are good, but not that good
Rob
As a young 20 year old girl living in chicago, I must say you have been an inspiration to me since I was very young. The interview showed you in a light I had never before seen, and I must say I am proud to be your fan. You have taught me to look at not only movies, but life, in more real way. And as someone already stated, we all hear your voice when we read your blogs and reviews. Thank you for being the most honest and raw man in this business.
By the way...Everytime I go to the River East theater I hope I see you there, I'm still waiting!
Hello,
All these years of good work. I have mostly agreed with I may say. I see a movie a week and there have been many two per week. This has been for the last ten years now. Before that only two per month. In your job you must be critical and tell it like you see it, just in sports. So this just a keep up the good work and fight. Tongue cancer here.
You are loved at our house. Every Thursday for new reviews and in between for past reviews we log on. I agree with an earlier comment, your voice is so alive owed to your talent with the word. You're part of our household. My 17-year-old twin sons are your biggest fans. Thank you for giving us so much enjoyment.
Fincher Family
Ebert wrote: I will never again feel guilty about asking you to do a Photoshop FOR me :)
And doesn't it feel better now, for having dropped the weight of it? Smile.
Besides, 800+ people have posted very nice things indeed about you - and where's the FUN in that?! I myself fell asleep after reading the first fifty. They're all so "respectful."
But then I've always felt that there's no sign of respect so great as chasing someone affectionately with a crayon; the effort of exerting oneself speaking volumes. :)
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_lear.jpg
Ebert: Looks just like me. Who's the guy on the right?
I have an eerie feeling that the very nice things about me are about to tail off now that I've posted the new blog entry.
I feel honored to have the chance tell you how much the Esquire article, and your response, moved me, and how much I have enjoyed your recent blogging and essays. But you will always be to me, first and foremost, the person who introduced me to so many brilliant movies I might never have seen otherwise. "Gates of Heaven" -- I rented it, spent the first five minutes going "what the heck is this?", but within ten minutes had started crying for the first time (of five!) in the movie. I routinely go through your old reviews and Great Movies columns to find gems I would otherwise have missed. Maybe it is picayune to talk about films in the light of the huger subjects being discussed here, but I hope not -- it's something you love, and you shared your love with us, and with me, and for that I am profoundly grateful. Thanks.
Didn't have the chance to write to you about the Esquire article. Tried awhile back, but didn't have enough time and had a problem with the computer I was working on. Anyway, when I found out there was an Esquire article on you from the imdb message board on your subject, I went to your website to check it out after not being able to get the link working. Couldn't get it through your website either so I went to find the magazine. It took some time but I happened to buy it at Barnes and Noble on Feb. 20th, yes, the 11th anniversary of Gene's death. Read it through a few times and was very moved by what you have been going through since 2006. Now I understand how you eat-I made a joke comment that if you don't eat, are you now like one of the aliens in the Alien pictures? Some other thoughts:
1. When I first saw the picture of you on your website, I was a little shocked. Didn't expect the picture to look like that. After viewing it, I also realized that you sort of look like the actor Max Wright from the TV shows ALF and Norm, and films like Soul Man, Midsummer Night's Dream, and Snow Falling on Cedars.
2. The picture of you in your office makes you look like Mister Rogers. Also, noticed one of your Yearbooks on the cart-it was the 2006 one.
3. Can't believe those Disney jerks took off your journal entry the Tribute to Gene. Was that ever straightened out?
4. It seemed a little sad when I saw how your life is now and yet you seem to be in good spirits. The dying statement is truthful, as you said, we are all dying anyway.
5. If the cancer does come back, you should try to stop it. Hopefully, it is gone forever now.
I miss you being on TV with Richard Roeper and I don't watch the new At the Movies, which also, it wasn't called when you did the show in 2003. There seems to be a mistake there in the story. I certainly wish you well and many more years with us and you are right about trying to make the people in the world better. It makes the world better. Keep us informed on how you are doing.
Roger, I just read the Esquire article and I thought it was beautiful, both on the part of Chris Jones, and you. As a writer and former film student, I really took a lot from your words and always have -- you've always been a hero of mine. Please know I don't 'pity' you by any means. Rather, I only wish I could be as strong, as successful, as optimistic and full of love, passion and wisdom as you are. For me, that would be THE measure of success. Thank you for doing this interview and allowing Jones to be your observer. I gleaned so much wisdom from both of you this evening.
Also, I was never a fan of Disney's "re-vamped" version of At the Movies, and can definitely see why you and Richard Roeper disassociated yourselves with it. Although now, I find AO Scott and Michael Philips a pleasure to watch. I think the show as it is now has returned to the credible stage that was set by you and Gene, though there is still no comparison. I'm 22 years old and grew up on a thumbs rating system. It was the two of you who led me into film studies in the first place.
Wish it was just a movie, Roger. And I do hope you find God. (The Bible's messianic prophecies did it for me.) Best, Ken
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_lear.jpg
Ebert wrote: Looks just like me. Who's the guy on the right?
Jerry Berliant. :)
I have an eerie feeling that the very nice things about me are about to tail off now that I've posted the new blog entry.
Oh I know! And isn't it exciting?! I can hardly wait! I bet some trolls will show-up followed by religious nuts and then Dante Hell itself, will open wide! And before you can scream "OH MY GOD!" - Republicans will appear and cloaked in black; you know, like Death in a Bergman film.
And their brushes heavy with the blood of liberals, they'll paint the blog with slogans like "Die, You Evil Commie Basterd!" and all kinds of fun stuff! :)
Or maybe not.
The Olympics are still on, after all, so etc.
Off now to watch "The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy"... smile....
Mr. Ebert,
I have been a passing fan over the years, growing up with you being the final decision on all of the movies my family watched. I sit here, hours away from an exam I have tomorrow, and yet I can't pull myself away from your blog, and especially from the Esquire article which I keep re-reading.
From your stories of Urbana-Champaign (which I attend!) to your thoughts on healthcare, education, and everything else, I have enjoyed reading your work so much tonight, and even more so, feeling as if I have gotten to know you personally.
Roger,
I know I'm being presumptuous in assuming that you have time for these matters but God works in mysterious ways :-)
I should have warned you that some of the Spiritual Gold recordings have better tonal quality than others. I'm concerned that you might perchance play one of the challenged recordings and lose interest thinking it is representative of the lot.
Recording LC-003 in the "Life of Christ" series is representative of how Dr. Strauss really sounded and fortunately many of the recordings are of similar good quality.
I will not be insulted if you choose not to post this message -- I understand.
Respectfully,
Wm
Dear Mr. Ebert, I want to let you know that I will always appreciate the way you think and write about movies, that is, the way you think and write about life. I wish you peace and health and joy. You've inspired me in so many ways. Thank you so much.
Roger, I've gotten so much into the habit of reading everything by you that I approached this article with the thought that it was unnecessary after the last few years of deeply personal writing you've been doing. Thankfully, I was wrong- the piece reminded me of how much an interlocutor can bring out traits that aren't apparent from a first-person account. That's only fitting, I guess, since so much of our intitial knowledge of you came from the work you did as part of a "couple."
While I think that the people who came away from the article with pity rather than inspiration are missing the point, I was struck by something that I hope you'll clarify. At the end of the article it states that you not only refuse to have future facial surgeries, but that you also will decline treatment if your cancer comes back. While I find the former decision understandable in light of the complications prior surgeries have called, I was surprised by the latter. The work you have been doing since the decline in your health has been some of the best writing you have ever done. If you had declined intervention when you were first diagnosed, you would not have produced that body of work. Clearly, in the past, you have felt that was worth fighting for. I wonder, where and when was the point of no return for you? I've been so inspired by your drive post-cancer that I'm surprised you wouldn't want to continue fighting as long as possible, if only to get out all of the words that are still in you. Why have you now changed your mind and decided the words are not worth the fight?
Dear Roger Ebert (as I have always referred to you by both your first and last names),
I remember watching Siskel & Ebert with my sister every Saturday for years and I wish it were on today. Reading your reviews and books have informed and elevated all of my movie watching experiences. Without fail, after seeing any movie, I refer to your reviews to get your take. I still hear your voice in my head.
I spoke to my sister yesterday about the Esquire article and I'm glad I FINALLY got around to reading it. Beautifully written and a lot more moving than I imagined it could be. Your response to it was equally well written and moving.
Roger Ebert, I just want you to know that you've made my life all the happier for doing what you do. Thank you!
Yours,
Vickey
Roger, you made the correct decision in selecting Chris Jones and allowing this piece to be pursued and published.
The element of the article that struck me most and far eclipsed the parts relating to your physical appearance and condition was the supreme importance that writing has assumed in your daily life. We all deteriorate physically as time progresses - this is universal. But your ability to express yourself with the written word is a unique and select gift. And Chris Jones is right up there with you. He was able to both address and elaborate on your current condition without invoking pity, but rather appreciation for how it has made you focus even more intently upon your already well-honed craft.
I'm not sure what the "last words" reference was about, specifically - but as far as any of us knows, whatever words we utter or write today will be our last. Few of us are able to appreciate them as such and make them matter, but you seem to be doing a decent job. And if you go on to live another forty years, it won't alter this reality one bit.
Keep up the good work.
Mr. Ebert:
I read the ESQUIRE piece in a semi-trance. When my wife was diagnosed with cancer the mere advice I could give was "The only thing you can control in this whole process is YOUR attitude." She endured like a champ & so far her markers are down & she is back to work as an Animal Portrait Artist - www.theboscogroup.org
YOUR attitude should be an inspiration to cancer patients everywhere. Heck with only cancer patients ... PEOPLE everywhere.
Dear Mr. Ebert, I found the Esquire interview to be a profoundly moving piece, and I thank you for your courage in being so open about you life and your feelings. Thank you so much for your dedication to film criticism, as well as your funny, touching and earnest blog which is probably the best their is. I am glad that you are still happy, even in the midst of your health problems, because your writing on film and life make all film lovers the happiest people on earth.
I’ve been following your work for 30+ years (and followed your Perfect London Walk in 1992), so I was quite embarrassed to first learn of your illness/surgeries from the Esquire piece. How gratifying it was to read of the joy and sustenance that your film criticism continues to give you, and how grateful I am now for the inspiration that you provide along with the education.
Love you Mr. Ebert. You are the best at what you do. Always objective and never mean. You are a genuinely good person, and I know you very very well. Take care and continue your life's work.
Dear Roger,
You have meant so much to me over the years. Thanks to you, I have seldom seen a bad movie in the last 20 years or so.
Where have I been? I didn't even know about your journal until the Esquire article came out, although I had been reading your movie reviews. Now I am trying to "play catch up", reading as many of your journal entries as I can. Your website says "92 million visits". Due to the Esquire article, that number may increase dramatically.
If you don't want to write your autobiography, have you thought about publishing a book of all your journal entries? Please excuse me if this has been asked before.
Please know that there are thousands of us out there enjoying your work, and wishing you the best.
I really liked the Esquire article, but I had a quibble with the sub-head. In it you are described as “rarely seen.” This is simply not true. We Chicagoans see you and Chaz all the time. I’ll give you an example. My wife and I have the same subscription series to Chicago Shakespeare that you have. We see you there. All of us gathered for the play see you. We don’t feel right about coming up and bothering you. We want to, just to see how you are doing, but we believe that you and Chaz are among our many treasures, like the lakefront or the U-505, and when Chicagoans find themselves in the presence of their treasures, they show respect. Keep being “frequently seen.”
Dear Mr. Ebert: I read the article. May I call this to your attention? Granted you live in a world of news and information and such, but if I was struggling with a serious illness, THE LAST THING I would want (or allow)in my vicinity or in my ownership are "death totems." That is a really bad idea if one wants LIFE and THRIVING a part of your reality.
The fact is, quantum field, zero point field, morphogenic fields, chaos: all these theories PAY attention to the type of ENERGY associated with/accompanied by an event or object.
I think you will feel a tremendous sense of relief and improved health with their removal.
To me it explains at least partly your recent medical history.
Take care,
Erin Rafael, conundrums resolved, zero point field play
Jennifer Morrow writes:
Reminds me of this exchange from the very underrated The Ruling Class (1972)
Oh, I know that film well. I first saw it on campus in college in the 80s -- why do I think it may have been in a double feature with The Stunt Man, with O'Toole, Steve Railsback, and Barbara Hershey? -- and a friend of mine and I walked back to our rooms practically in silence. Every ten or twenty steps we'd stop, look at each other, open our mouths as if to speak, be unable to articulate anything, and then laugh at our inadequacy.
That film cemented my adoration of Peter O''Toole, which began with Lawrence of Arabia and continued through My Favorite Year. How can one describe The Ruling Class to someone who has never seen it? For two-thirds of its length it's hilarious black comedy with some extremely uncomfortable moments, and then the last third goes over the edge into something closer to horror, with some extremely funny moments. The main performances -- from O'Toole, Coral Browne, Alistair Sym, Carolyn Seymour, and maybe most memorably Arthur Lowe (as the radical butler) -- are all terrific.
Hmm -- I've just looked up Roger's (Roger, is it strange to talk about you in the third-person on your own blog? sorry, if so) review of the restored re-release: 2 1/2 stars, down a 1/2 star from the original review. The shift in tone (which he locates earlier in the film, and of course he has a point) bothers him. But it's such an English film, and we know Roger's a devoted anglophile; I thought he might have liked it more. Of course, it's about as loathing of the British class system as a film can be. Funny how many English playwrights and film-makers are so critical of the U.K. over class issues, when that country managed between 1770 and 1950 to make its society modern and relatively egalitarian without 1% of the violence that happened in other European countries doing the same span.
Wow. I just read this sentence from Roger's review: "what a particular, and peculiar, screen presence O'Toole has, classic in profile and yet oddly alarming straight on, with that wide sardonic mouth and those shifty eyes." That's it -- he's absolutely right. I've never thought about it before, but it's exactly that disconnect that makes him so striking. From the side he belongs on a coin or could have served as the model for a knight in a pre-raphaelite painting. As Noel Coward said, "If he were any prettier he'd be Florence of Arabia." But dead-on there's something wrong, something disturbing. Damn, Roger's good. I know we already know that. But just -- damn.
And as long as we're bringing up great British satires, have you seen the original Bedazzled directed by Stanley Donen starring Peter Cook and Dudley Moore, with -- and this has to be one of the great credits ever -- Raquel Welch as Lust? Scene after scene leaves me in tears from laughing: Stanley Moon's attempted suicide, Moore in his intellectual mode telling Eleanor Bron that marble "is always eleven degrees cooler than the air that surrounds it, Fahrenheit of course," the Froony (Frewny?) Green Eyewash scene, the animated flies, the pop music show with Drimble Wedge and the Vegetation, the Leaping Beryliians (nuns on trampolines). And some of the funniest lines ever:
"The garden of Eden was a boggy swamp just south of Croydon. You can see it over there. "
"It's the standard contract. Gives you seven wishes in accordance with the mystic rules of life. Seven Days of the Week, Seven Deadly Sins, Seven Seas, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers" -- even funnier when you remember Donen directed that film too.
"In the words of Marcel Proust -- and this applies to any woman in the world: If you can stay up and listen with a fair degree of attention to whatever garbage, no matter how stupid it is, that they're coming out with, 'til ten minutes past four in the morning . . . you're in. "
"I thought up the Seven Deadly Sins in one afternoon. The only thing I've come up with recently is advertising."
"What terrible sins I have working for me. I suppose it's the wages."
"Sloth would be best. He's a lawyer."
"I suppose Lust and Gluttony really have to be rather near the bathroom."
And my favorite: "You fill me with inertia." Even funnier in context.
Despite my opinion of Mr. Ebert's bias, he's a terrific talent and I wish him well.
Gregg J wrote this on 2/18/10: "I continue to appreciate all the writing that you do, and I would agree that in the last few years there is a different air to the writing that I can't quite describe." I think I took a stab at describing this change. I can't, at the moment, remember exactly what I said, but I'd be interested in reading the message I sent you a good many months ago. Hopefully I saved a copy of that, but regardless, I think we all continue to be so appreciative of your work. I also marvel at how connected you are to the world and how universally influential your work seems to be. There is a wonderful nobility in that. I thought the photos were great, Roger. Your face is your face, and we admire it now as ever we did. And if anyone ever says different, we got your back.
I look forward to reading the esquire article - but without doing so, I can't help but feel that your willingness to share your appearance with the public is an important event for you - a part of the healing process, if you will.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts and life with us, Roger. We don't always agree with you (heck, some of us never do) but I think we're all enriched by what you share with us.
take care
I must preface my comment by saying I haven't read the Esquire piece yet. I'm saving it for tomorrow. I have some work to finish up tonight, and reading the profile on you is my reward. I'd just like to read it when I really have the time to "sit with it."
I did read your thoughts on the article though. You say you got a jolt from the photo. I get that. But I must say I disagree when you say it's not a lovely sight. I'm not usually one for trite or hokey declarations--I know this sounds as such, but that makes it no less true...it is actually lovely. It's a portrait of a lovely man. It captures a moment in time. It captures the wisdom behind your eyes. Really, I think it's lovely, because it's honest.
I must also say you are an inspiration. You must hear this daily, but as a recent journalism graduate and cub reporter/freelance writer you're a great point of light and inspiration. And not only for your great writing and respect for your profession, but for all the stories I read about what a gracious man you are.
(Also, not to be so presumptuous as to assume you will be seeing my blog...I started it a year ago and never got it going. The couple pieces I posted were more for safe-keeping and are very rough drafts, aside from the couple clips.)
I want to be sad. I have not read the article, quite frankly, but from the other comments and peoples' reactions, I get an idea that it is about your illness that affects your life daily and now affects the lives of all your supporters and friends and especially Chaz.
I can't be sad because I still have you around to help me understand the necessities of movie appreciation. When I go to see something that you have given less than a stellar review, I feel guilty, but trust me it is not often that I cheat on you! You are the only critic that I read to know to even bother to see a particular movie.
My big beef this year is that they have 10 movies to choose from as best picture for the Oscars. What are they thinking? Movies that are commercially popular should not be in the category. They belong on the Peoples' Choice Awards. As a regular movie goer, I find it insulting that they honestly believe that half of them even qualify for best picture. They should let you nominate the nominees for the Best Picture Award for 2010. Now that would be a fabulous way to honor you!
Like I said, I am not sad, but will be the day that I can't read your review to figure out if I want to even bother to see a certain movie. But you have taught me well and I will get up my courage and go to my favorite movie theater, get popcorn and toast you with it. But until that happens, I have you near, dear person, to help me figure out what to see and not feel quilty that I might be watching a movie that Ebert found less than stellar!!
What I would suggest is "going to the next level"
and use anger and weakness to write about the
things most writers are afraid of: due to
issues of popularity or fear. At our end,
we could take a last look and get comfort from
the good we left behind. So "let it all hang out,
dude" and forgo heroics and wisdom and restraint
to write the truest about the human condition,
which must include rage against the injustices
and phony verses: for there is no gentility
true: there are more important things than
making us comfortable: make us feel truth.
cheers---Peter Pickles
@ John Alvarez wrote:
"And oh yeah, btw, my fave Marie Haws pic was with you as Marcello, but the one with you as Bond was the most complimentary. Glad to see Marie didn't do you as the Joker. That would've been too easy. Instead, she took the high road. Nice."
Actually, I did do Roger as the Joker! I just didn't post it up. Instead, I sent it to him in a private e-mail.
His response?
"Eeeekk!"
Chuckle!
But then HE sent me a web link to FOOD porn! GASP! You know, really beautiful picture of food? At which point, I was forced to retaliate and ergo sent him several photographs of grilled salmon, mushroom risotto, gelato, cheesecake, lasagna, and scones with jam and clotted cream - I was merciless.
Then I chopped his head off and turned him into James Bond and Mr. Spock. :)
I could write nice stuff about him, I suppose, but I like to think actions speak louder than words; smile.
Roger as Sherlock Holmes!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/ebert_sherlock.jpg
Roger as Lord Peter Lord Wimsey: a bon vivant sleuth in a series of detective novels by Dorothy L. Sayers!
http://www3.telus.net/thiliasspace/Marie/jpegs/roger_lordpeter.jpg
He's not particularly famous as detectives go, but it was either that, or finding a photo of Margaret Rutherford as Miss Marple - and I know how far "not" to push my luck. :)
Besides, I think Roger will like seeing himself in Bespoke tailoring.
I thought the article was well-done, and while I hesitate to use the word "brave" (lest it be misconstrued, it's not the aftermath of surgeries which I refer to) I think it's brave of anyone to let their faces be seen in photographs when their faces look different than in their mind's eye.
I hate photos of me, not because I'm *ugly* but because I don't look like I'm in my twenties anymore. I'm 59 now. Go figure. I'm sure inside you don't think you look like you do. I'm equally sure neither of us are ugly outside. You aren't, for sure. Not the prettiest jaw in the world, but I'm toothless and have jowls now.*shrugs* I love your eyes. They *twinkle*.
Anyway, the article was a glimpse into you being alive and kicking, so to speak, and I've loved your insight for decades, so it's great you're still there and doing your thing, making us all think. I loved the photo of you surrounded by books, my favorite objects in the world. Being a voracious reader from age four, it gave me kinship, of a sort. Thanks for being you and continuing on. It's amazing what we can get used to when we have to, as I told the last person who sympathized with me on my chronic pain.
P.S. I've used that "living rent-free in a room in my head" line for years. I truly believe it, along with hate being like drinking poison and expecting it to harm the person one hates. Here's to hate-free lives. Keep living well. And ...I'd have shown the wedding photos too. Thanks again.
Roger,
Your writing is so insightful, funny, profound and beautiful, when I saw that photo, I only saw beauty. I sat a few chairs down from you during the Precious Press Conference at TIFF. Wanted to kiss you! Okay, enough gushing. Later, handsome.
Hi Mr. Ebert,
Having a snow day today allowed me to check in with my favorite blogger, YOU! I read your post about your Esquire article. Then, I read the Esquire article. Like the hundreds of responses before mine, I too was touched by both pieces of writing.
I think what I enjoyed about Chris Jones' article and all of your (Mr. Ebert) blog postings is your abilities to make connections with your audience. I work as a high school librarian. Many of my kids do not share the same cultural or economic background as me. But I know for sure that if I want the kids to trust me and allow me to help them, I must find ways to connect.
You have mastered the art of connecting with those you serve. I don't know if you did this consciously or subconsciously. It is a pleasure to read your informed point-of-view. I look forward to more in the future. Now, I have to shovel out the car. The Philly area has taken a beating this winter. I don't think Chicago can say the same this year. :p
Dear Roger,
I was moved by the article as I was moved so many years ago the morning I grabbed the Sunday paper and saw that Gene Siskel had passed. I recall getting emotional and realized that you and Gene have been with me my whole life. I grew up on the movies and love your passion for them. I truly admire your courage and outlook as I did with Gene's dignity in handling his illness. Keep watching, keep writing. We are better for it.
Thank you,
Steven J. Warner
Please check out classic Siskel & Ebert talk show appearances at my YouTube pages:
http://www.youtube.com/fivealex2009
http://www.youtube.com/fivealex2010
I really enjoyed the article. It reflected how we have gotten to know you better through the years.
I first met you through your movie reviews. Whenever I convince my wife or a friend to go to a new film, I inevitably let them know what 'Uncle Roger' thought about the film.
We have a long standing relationship, you and I. We do not always agree, but I know your tone and temperament well enough to know when I will like a film, even if you did not so much.
Despite the tragedy of your voice and your health, I almost feel guilty that I have gotten to know you so much better through your blog.
I don't read your blog regularly. I just tend to drift over here when I want to visit with a friend. I enjoy the substantive discussions you've inspired in my head. Every time I visit, I leave with my mind following my own perspective on the topic at hand.
I don't think I can count the number of times your essays have led to a number of tangents in my mind that have led to a lengthy discussion with my wife on a related topic. Every time that happens, Uncle Roger becomes a little more human, a little more real, a little more family and friend.
I would be remiss not to mention some your writings I enjoyed most. I always enjoy your political topics, if just for the fact that you seem to point out anther perspective I never consider, yet mostly often agree with.
My favorite Uncle Roger topic of all time had to be your discussion that led to my wife and I discussing AA and your battle with alcoholism. My wife is a recovering alcoholic with almost seven years of sobriety and I survived growing up the unfortunate happenstance of a substance abusing parent.
I think that was they day you first truly transformed from Roger Ebert, the celebrity, the film critic, to Uncle Roger, my friend.
While I understand how you see the silence where your voice used to be, over the past few years, I have heard your voice louder and louder. I knew your writing voice, long before I ever heard your voice over the television. Me, I don't miss your voice on the air; I selfishly look forward to the fact that I get to hear the voice of my friend more every day.
Thank you.
Bonjour Roger,
Well, as you guessed, they are not beeing nearly so nice in the 'Storm' blog, so, since every vote counts, i'll add my voice to the others saying that both the Esquire article and your answer to it where wonderful. I must add that the reader response has also been inspiring.
Amitiés
Michel Lamontagne
Otterburn Park
Quebec, canada
"If we think we have physical imperfections, obsessing about them is only destructive. Low self-esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you. That means they're living upstairs in the rent-free room."
You don't know how much I needed to hear that today. Thanks, Roger, for all your thoughts and wisdom.
Mr. Ebert, I can't put into words what the Esquire article meant to me, for many reasons, not the least of which is that I had surgery for papillary thyroid cancer 5 years ago. I was very fortunate that it was discovered in stage 1 and hopefully cured with a thyroidectomy and radioactive iodine. (Not so fortunate that drs. used radiation to shrink my thymus gland in the late 50's when I was 2 and they didn't realize the dangers of radiation which is what caused the thyroid cancer.)I was surprised that the article stated that your problems started with papillary thyroid cancer since all of my drs. emphasized how cureable it is and what a "silver bullet" RAI is for this disease. Do you mind my asking if the article was accurate in that regard? But even more meaningful to me personally was the quote about resentment living in the room in our minds rent free and low self esteem allowing our obsession with physical imperfections to live there. I now have that taped on my bathroom mirror! Thank you for allowing such an honest, up close and personal interview and article!
Ebert: I had the thyroid surgery and iodine. My thyroid cancer is gone. My jaw cancer was I believe a separate cancer, although both were likely caused by childhood radiation treatments.
You're more than welcome, Tracey D. Write more, too. I have a little hiatus and I see I've been impelled to read all the posts I've missed in the last few days. I've been impelled by the good writin'.
Here is my excuse: we're moving; my computers are down. This is a good excuse and I enjoy it. Because of this excuse, I haven't had to write to anybody or answer any e-mails for several days. I know it will be like a balloon payment of e-mail, but I need this break. If I'm on the internet too many consecutive weeks I begin to feel very sad, like Jeff Bridges in "Starman," must get away.
This is Catt's laptop. Actually it's one of two of Catt's laptops. I pretend not to know how to use them, so please, if any of you reading are my correspondents, this isn't me writing. It is someone else.
I have, for one thing, been out setting up fencing for the horses, all by myself. No helpers! I've just fenced in a 2,250 foot corral all by myself! I shouldn't write "fencing" now. I should call it "fencin'". Reckon I just done the fencin' all by mahself. Reckon I'm a cowboy now. A real cowboy who knows how to put up fencin' all by hisself.
HhhhhHHHHK! Pa-TOOEY! Dinnnnggg!
All by mahself.
The truth is, it's glorious to get away from computers for awhile. Glorious.
Dear Mr. Ebert:I have been reading your work for years now, but only recently learned of your journey through the last few years.I am very moved by your grace and continuing generosity of spirit.As someone whose family refuses to talk about illness, I understand what it is like to keep silences, out of respect, and yet, I celebrate with you, the speech we still have.The words, the breath, the beauty.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I was in the audience today at the taping of the Oprah Winfrey Pre-Oscar show. Many years ago you did something for me and I'd like to say thank you. It was back in 1993...my 34 year old husband was sick with cancer and I wrote to you to ask you to send him a birthday card. I was going to compile the cards and offer them as my birthday present to him. I received a signed photo from you and Gene Siskel and numerous other Chicago celebrities, but unfortunately Bill Foley did not live long enough to read the birthday wishes. Last year I put all the cards into autograph books for my daughters who were 5 and 1 when their father died. When I got home from the taping today I opened one of the books and found the photo you sent. You will never know how much the picture meant to me. Even though you meant it for Bill; it felt like a hug for me. And now I hope that this letter will do the same for you...let this be a hug to you from me. Your victory is a victory for all the cancer patients who have come before. Live well, keep writing and most of all thank you!!!
Sincerely,
Madonna Davis Foley
Today while out with my husband, I remarked that a tweet of yours from yesterday was a perfect little philosophical gem, and then read it aloud to him. He agreed, and we spent some time talking about your life's work, the challenges you're facing, and the interesting new career you've carved out for yourself as a blogger and 140-word essayist.
Which one did I read? Any one of them would have sufficed, that's what makes your Twitter feed so enjoyable... but it was this one.
P.S. How's that electronic gadget working out?? Hope to hear - really hear! good news.
Ebert: Yeah. That occurred to me., the thought in my tweet, after I'd done some channel surfing.
For the next limerick contest:
Roger and Oprah
Together on TV.
T... E... X....T....I...
Oh, well, I'm still working on it.
Is she still leaving Chicago?
Hi, Mr. Ebert,
You mentioned in an earlier response that the 49 seat theatre had more than enough critics. Just out of sheer curiosity... in your opinion, what would be a sufficient number of critics? I'm guessing it's somewhere south of 49, particularly since the piece mentions empty seats. :-)
Ebert: It's a curious phenomenon. Lots of empty seats for art and indie films. Not a seat to spare for "Revenge of the Transformers." Enough seats to fill Navy Pier IMAX for the press screening of "Avatar."
Roger, I just read your "Hello, this is me speaking" article. You say that CereProc knows how you say "I." Yes, but does it know how you say "because?" I've always had great fondness for your pronunciation of that word.
Just wanted to say that I am a huge fan of not only you as a reviewer, but as you as a human being. I enjoy and look forward to coming to your site and reading your thoughts and getting inside the mind of the great Roger Ebert. One of the things I've always loved about you, is that you put the personal reasons you love or hate something, providing us with a reference point for what we are reading, and also allowing all of us to get to know you. I know I don't know you, but I think we feel like those of us who read your thoughts have always known you. You and your family are in my prayers.
Thanks, and keep up the wonderful writing!
Louis (Tony) Angelopoulos
Rog, I just read about CereProc and the progress of Roger Jr and I am very, very happy for you. So glad it's working out to your satisfaction. Anything what makes you happy and reduces the difficulty fate has foisted upon you, makes me want to mutate a third thumb to give it three thumbs up.
Until that happens, my best wishes.
Indian Idiot (H.W.)
Concentrate..concentrate..grow thumb..grow.. :)
It's very easy to admit (in spite of my usual attempts to be a tough-as-nails, ubermensch of sorts...on rare occasions people believe it) that many of your reviews have brought me to tears. This can be a bit embarrassing when I'm at work reading one of your articles in my downtime and a colleague has to ask what's wrong..."Oh...I'm just reading the Ebert review of Breaking the Waves." And here you're doing it to me again. Your words are so humbling that I've become overwhelmed with guilt (in a good way...I was raised catholic, so it's pretty easy to do) and inspiration. I definitely find myself wanting to desperately paste an eviction notice on that "rent-free room." And I wish my middle name was Full Disclosure, but it isn't...it's Ryan. I think outspokenness is an absolute necessity to keep the ego at bay. Once again, Mr. Ebert, you're an inspiration. And please cast that foreboding title of the Esquire article into the depths of irony with more of your witty, heart-string pulling prose. Thank you.
The new picture of you was a shocking surprise to see. I think you look honest and wise and quite beautiful. For some reason it kind of reminds me of a Hirschfeld caricature and I mean that kindly. The photo and article led me to discover your blog which I absolutely love. Thank you so much!
I thought it was a terrific interview. It is my second favorite all time Esquire interview after Tom Junod's legendary profile of Mister Rogers ("Can You Say Hero?").
I just deepened my admiration and respect for you as a writer and critic and how grateful I am to you for all the worlds you have introduced me to. The Great Movies I and II are at home, dog-eared, ready to incite interest, imagination, and at times confusion, but have been a great love of my life. I never would have found Kurasowa without you, and then I would have missed Ozu. I look forward to many future reviews. When will GM3 be ready for pre-order on Amazon? A Million Thanks,
Jim
I just wanted to say that the Esquire article moved me in places I didn't even know I had locomotion. You've been a personal hero of mine for years, especially during my alcohol addiction when I felt I might be worthless. I'd read of your battle with that, and it inspired me to stop defining myself in terms of my problems and instead concentrate on the interesting and good things that I could do.
You're a good man, and I wish you the best.
Have you ever heard of the SENS foundation?
http://www.sens.org/index.php?pagename=mj_index
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/De_Grey_Technology_Review_controversy#Film_appearances
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strategies_for_Engineered_Negligible_Senescence#De_Grey_Technology_Review_controversy
http://us.cnn.com/video/?/video/international/2009/11/30/vs.clinic.immortality.cnn
The Chief Scientist believes that there is a large possibility that in the near future people will begin to live until they're 1000. In fact, the first person to do so may already be 60.
Ebert: That may well be me.
Regarding the Gene Siskel Tribute show: Disney/Buena Vista has hosted it all this time on the At The Movies with Ebert & Roeper site, but it's almost impossible to find a link.
http://bventertainment.go.com/tv/buenavista/ebertandroeper/index2.html?sec=7&subsec=34
It's quite moving. What a shame it would be to have lost them both. Live to be 100, Roger.
You just gotta live to be 87 and you have a chance! I believe you can do it, Mr. Ebert! If anyone could, you could! Imagine all the movies you could see in 1000 years! That should be enough motivation to keep you going!
I am really enjoying the Marie jpgs of Roger in certain films. IMO, they deserve their own website or page. I have no photoshop skills (I have just mastered rudimentary copy and paste), but have several suggestions for Roger IN the movies:
Roger as Mr Smith Goes to Washington
Roger in Top Hat
Roger asking for a chicken salad sandwich in 5 Easy Pieces
Roger as Roger Rabbit
Roger as "I'm walking here!" Midnight Cowboy
Roger as Father O'Malloy--just dial "O"
Roger loving the smell of napalm in the morning
Roger Singin' in the Rain-on the lamppost
Roger in the Play It Again, Sam
Roger as Roger in Airplane
Roger in GWTW (Ashely or Rhett? You decide!)
Roger as the Wizard in the The Wizard of Oz
Roger as Theoden (Gandalf?) in LOTR
Anime Roger in Spirited Away
Roger as the gnome in Amelie
I could go on all day.... I heard the bit about that voice company on NPR the other day and immediately thought of you, Roger. I didn't catch it all, but did hear them demonstrate Bush and Ahnold. I would love to hear your current voice--where do I find that online? (I'll google it). I'd be happy to hear "the balcony is closed" once again.
How empowering for you to have this tool available! How it must cut down on the cumbersome attempts to convey subtle meaning, shades of tone, and complex and conflicting feelings which we all do via pitch, timber and volume. You have always been and shall always be an excellent communicator, but this improves your ability to share quickly. A gift for you, but what a boon for us!
Dear Roger
I've been watching you on television and reading your reviews for — damn, I had to go look it up in Wikipedia — 32 years now, since At the Movies went to PBS. You've been an icon in my life, a constant presence, for longer than almost anyone, including my wife! My brother and our friends made, and still make, constant references to you (actually, we always referred to you and Gene Siskel as 'Gene and Rog', so, anymore, it's just 'Rog'), and whenever I rent a film that the family hasn't heard of, I just say, 'Well, Rog said it was okay, so how bad can it be?' Which at least shuts them up until the film gets going.
I don't visit your web site as often as I'd like, as I always seem to be busy anymore, but it's in my browser, bookmarked along with my film rental company and the IMDB, and it's where I go if I really want to know whether a film is worth seeing.
So, though I was aware you were having some problems, and some surgery, it was sort of a background knowledge: yeah, Rog is having some trouble, but he's still here.
So the picture from the cover of Esquire caught me off-guard. I wasn't quite ready for that one, I must admit, and it left me winded. But I read your article, and noted the grace and dignity and good humour with which you face life and everything it hands to you, and I can only hope that, when I am faced with great challenges, I can show half the courage and spirit that you are showing now.
Keep up the great work, and stick around. I don't want to miss you just yet.
Mr. Ebert, I hope this posting finds its way onto your radar. As a big fan of "Siskel and Ebert" growing up in the 80's, I was extremely moved by the Esquire profile. Especially when I read that you are using "Alex" for audio communications. You see, I am Alex. I'm the voice actor that spent well over a year recording the hundreds of hours of material - from letters and numbers, to classical literature and everything in between - that the Apple audio engineers used to create Alex. Though the finished product is far from perfect, and I'm sure at times frustrating in its limitations, I am very happy that it is functional enough to serve as your proxy voice. However, I hope it is only a temporary measure, and that one way or another you are able to again find your unique voice.
Ebert: OMG! This is as exciting for me as "Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Hal 9000."
Alex is the best voice I've found, and it came built into my MacBookPro. I use Alex for most of what I say on the Oprah show Tuesday, because my custom voice is still in Beta. It sounds like me, but needs smoothing out. They're adding two more commentary tracks. If I had hundreds of hours...that would be nice.
What can I say? You're very well spoken.
Dear Roger,
First of all, thank you! You have brought many hours of pleasure, information and enjoyment to me and my family ever since you started writing movie reveiws for the Sun-Times back in the 1960's.
I always felt that you were almost part of my family. I am one of ten kids. I was born in the same year as you. All of us enjoyed the movies and your reviews as well as commentary on other matters from time to time were often a topic of conversation around the dinner table. It was like you were just one more member of the family. Ironically, you didn't talk like the rest of us around the table, but your words and ideas were real and sparked many conversations.
I also always felt a kinship with you because of the not infrequent references to your Catholic elementary school education and the good nuns who probably taught you a lot about writing...diagramming sentences, parts of speech, split infinitives, etc.
Obviously, the religious part of your education has not stuck with you to the same degree as your writing skills. I am still a Catholic, though it is not always easy. I am sure that if they knew what I thought about a lot of things, they would throw me out. In any case, I am not writing to you to try to convert you back to Catholicism. I just want to say to you that I do believe in an after life. And one of my hopes is that part of my heaven will be dancing with Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire, and I will be keeping up with them. I want you to know that if I am correct and you are incorrect about whatever reality there may be after our deaths, I will be holding a spot open for you in the Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Bob Beezat, and Roger Ebert dance team. It will become part of the greatest musical ever.
Best wishes and thank you for the joy and happiness you have brought to me and my family.
Bob Beezat
Ebert: I thank you for your good wishes and warm heart. But the imp inside me wonders if Kelly and Astaire's dream of heaven is dancing with us...
I will join in here with the thousands of other people to say, simply, how much I enjoy your writing and admire your character. I wrote about the Esquire article in my own unfortunately-named blog today: http://diarrheaisland.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-years.html.
Thank you again for adding joy.
Roger
I'm going to ask something that may appear hopelessly selfish, but I have reasons.
I've followed you for some 23 years now, since I began watching "At the Movies" as a teenager. I have been reading your blog regularly since I discovered it (it sits next to IMDB on my quicklaunch toolbar).
I've also got a collection of the "Roger Ebert Commentaries" and they are simply astounding. I learnt more about film-making from your Citizen Kane commentary than anything else I have ever encountered. (To readers, if you haven't got the Ebert version of Citizen Kane, stop reading and go buy it now. Go buy the Dark City and Casablanca ones as well).
Sure my relationship with you is - and will always be - simply as a consumer, but frankly that's a noble and honest relationship.
So with the (exciting) news regarding your new voice from CereProc (http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2010/02/28/entertainment/e135544S40.DTL&type=politics), can I selfishly ask - is there any chance you will do more DVD commentaries?
Wishing you all the best in life, and I am sincerely looking forward to giving you my money every time you give me another product to buy.
Ebert: Typing is not the same as speaking. I should be able to do short video blogs, but a commentary...
I have been a 'fan' since I started watching you with Gene many years ago. I have learned so much about film from you and developed a love for independent and foreign films because of you. Thanks for all you've done for film and for all that you will continue to do for many years. You're an inspiration.
Hi I'm from Puerto Rico. I am fan of almost anything you write. I have always like your reviews. Either you make me laugh or you make me analyze things in a diferent way. I've read both books of The Great Movies and part of I Hated, Hated, Hated this Movie. Thanks for giving my an interest in literature
How faithfull I was in the day of the reviews with the thumbs up and down......
Roger, it is a true shame seeing you without your voice. We all really miss your voice. Praising good movies, bashing bad ones, getting into arguments with Siskel and Roeper, etc.
You have been a true influence to me and I always enjoy reading your movie reviews. They say actions speak louder than words, so I'm sure writing can as well.
I can only assume you are getting the following message in droves and droves due to the recent article in Esquire, but it doesn't make my following statements any less sincere.
To say that you've taken my love of film deeper and deeper with each visit to your site, especially your Great Movies section, is a bold, yet incredibly true, statement. I've been following your reviews since before I can remember and I've always come under fire from reading your reviews, "How can you agree with everything he says?" people would ask. I don't necessarily, agree with everything, we're all different people, but hell, you can justify your opinion and back it up, a trait not seen very often anymore. Its seems like a dying art, such as manners. I've even retreated to many reviews to garner a better understanding of certain, perplexing films, most memorably, "No Country For Old Men." You so carefully dissect each film and find that deeper meaning that separates films from movies. At other times the "Your movie sucks files" are such entertaining reads that I have no other choice than to post a review like "Transformers 2" onto my Facebook account for all to enjoy. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that you've essentially helped Film become an art. For art is not art without its critics. And I can only thank you so many times for expanding my ever growing and evolving love and understanding of film.
As long as you keep writing, I'll keep reading.
The best of luck in the rest of your journey!
Sincerely,
Michael Lang
I've followed your battles with Cancer a little bit Roger, you being one of my favourite critics. I've tried not to follow too much, because I dislike intruding on the personal lives of writers, film-makers, musicians, politicians, etc. but it's impossible not to have a vague idea in the back of my mind of the lives of public individuals.
Reading some of your recent essays, and reviews (everything gets four stars? Everything in life reflected in this film or that? Cinema is magical?) I just got this horrible, depressing, unsettling feeling that one of America's best voices on film was going to be leaving soon, and wanted nothing more than to see only the good things in life.
The Esquire piece didn't make me think you were dying. Not at all! In fact, it's done more than anything to convince me that we'll all get to enjoy your voice for years to come. That and your review of Dear John.
Great Esquire piece (which I heard about on the Slate Culture Gabfest). I actually had no idea you had been without your (audible) voice, though I've read literally thousands of your reviews over the last fifteen years or so. Unlike many, I only occasionally watched you on TV; but after every movie I see (and like probably most everyone commenting here, I see a great number of them) I go straight to IMDB to see what you have to say about it.
So you have at least one fan who experienced you as a fairly continuous voice (though I think upon reflection that I may have noticed a few oblique references to health issues here and there). Until now, that is; but I am glad to have found this blog in any event.
Roger - if i may so so with a sense of familiarity - having grown up with you since the days of Siskel (im 24), I just wanted to say we (America) loves you, and more so than your excellent reviews, your always-dated books, or your (before surgery) non-velvety voice, your 'Thumb' will always resonate in our heads. Thumbs up to you, and all you do for my personal film journey. Keep on writing, your voice is permenantly embedded in my head, even though I also feel you give out a few too many 4-Stars. After all, if the films today are being made better, shouldn't the grading be scaled/curved?
Why is she "Louise" in the Lee Marvin interview on Esquire's site, and "Michelle" on the version here?
Keep it up, Mr. Ebert, I'm making your reviews required reading for my students learning English here in Moscow. I make them watch movies in English and then talk about them. I get a lot of ideas from you.
Thanks.
/\/.
Having read so much of your intimate reading, I consider you almost a friend, if that makes sense, so I hope you'll forgive me using your given name...
Roger,
I have admired and enjoyed your work since I was about 11 years old. I would look through the TV Guide to find old movies to watch (Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy, Cary Grant), and always, always watch you and Gene on PBS on a black and white 13-inch television in my room. Because I would be punished if I got caught staying up so late, I would sit right by the screen, the volume very low, to hear the two of you offer humor, argument, and thoughtful analysis of movies. It was my favorite half-hour of the week.
When you left PBS, I looked for you again, and found you on Sunday nights, late, after the local sports show. By then I had a color TV, and cable, but it was still a 13-inch, and I kept the volume low, my face bathed in the blue light of the screen late into the night.
The movies I chose to see were invariably those which you had given a thumbs-up, because my hard-earned allowance or fast-food, minimum-wage dollars couldn't be risked on a film without your stamp of approval.
Now, as an adult, I enjoy your writing via wireless internet network, and your reviews strongly influence the films I see.
You have been and still are a joy to me. I hope to continue reading your work, all of it, for many years to come. Your "voice" is with me always.
Dear Roger, I wanted to say so much, but I don't know where to start. I will try to make this short.
I am 29 years old, married, and have 2 young daughters. You inspired me, when my daughters grows up I will tell them how you inspired me and hopefully inspired them too.
Thank you and best wishes to you and your family.
Roger -
You never disappoint - I was hoping we would get your take on the article, and as always it is eloquent and well thought out. On a related note, I read blogs fairly regularly, and today I was surfing on Deadsping and came across this:
http://deadspin.com/5482198/my-roger-ebert-story?skyline=true&s=i
I was struck by how willing you were to help a young writer from your alma mater, and I actually cringed and found it difficult to read your email to him once you found that negative article he had written about you. I am sending this along if only so you could see that the guy had always admired you and probably feels awful about what he did. Either way, I thought you might enjoy the trip down memory lane.
Hello Mr. Ebert,
I have read every review you have created for the past two years. And almost every review I agreed with you, almost.
Just saying I appreciate your work as a critic, and looking forward to every review you make in the future.
I know life is unpredictable, so I'm wondering if you have a pupil or someone I can look forward to, in terms of movie reviews, after you've passed on?
I know it's a critical question, but I don't know if I'll ever read movie reviews again without yours.
Felix Kargegie
Ebert: I think my Far-Flung Correspondents represent some major talent. And the web is rich with good writers.I play a little game called Tweeto around midnight every night, where I re-tweet three new "followers." When I find a great tweet, often enough that person will have a link to a web site, and I find astonishingly good entries.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I was reading a comment that you made about dying and I just had to comment. Since most people are scared to die it was interesting to hear that you don't have that worry. Most people don't know the condition of the dead. The Bible lets us know at Ecclesiastes 9:5 it says,"For the living are conscious that they will die; but as for the dead, they are conscious of nothing at all, neither do they anymore have wages, because the remembrance of them has been forgotten." But there is hope for the dead, there will be a time when it will be brought to nothing. The Christian writer Paul was inspired to give us comfort and hope when he wrote: “As the last enemy, death is to be brought to nothing.”(1 Corinthians 15:26) John 5:28, 29 says, “The hour is coming in which all those in the memorial tombs will hear [Jesus’] voice and come out.” Where will everyone live...on a Paradise Earth!! Psalm 37:29 says, "The righteous themselves will possess the earth,
And they will reside forever upon it." Well Mr. Ebert to you and your lovely wife I want to say that I pray that you'll get through this as best as possible. I would LOVE to send you some more information on this and other subjects.
What this brings to mind, is that as a regular reader of your blog, I could swear that on at least two occasions you've said, "Chaz dragged me kicking and screaming." I know one was when you went to Pritikin. The second time I read it, I thought "How much is he putting this woman through?" But you do sound like a fine pair.
I enjoyed your memorable story and recent interveiws. Your comments show wisdom from your life experiences and relationships. I wrote something to a friend as I brag about my experience when I had met "Roger Ebert"while in high school. The post is attached below. Who knows if you will get a chance to ever read this, just wanted to thankyou for helping out a high-schooler! God Bless!
I was lucky enough to meet him once. I was in highschool and won an award from an art piece I produced. The Art show was held in chgo and hosted by Roger and his side kick Siskel. There were many other winners from different highschools that were with their parents for this special day. My parents could not make it. I was lucky enough to be sitting between Siskel and Ebert during the ceremony. I remember eating appetizers with Rodger and boy he loved his food. I felt so special being able to sit by them especially because I was the only highschooler their with no parents, so Rodger and Siskel made up for it. :)
Hi, Roger. You're a good man and a good critic. I honor you. I also have no negative opinion of your current appearance. You look fine and smile well.
Not your appearance, but some of the things you said in this blog remind me of the recent movie "The Box" in which Frank Langella's character seemed at first a little apprehensive of what Cameron Diaz' opinion might be of his appearance. I can't be specific because I don't want to spoil the movie for those who haven't seen him, but I think you'd be quite surprised how many people might react to you the same way she reacted to him.
I think that might be a moment in cinema I might now link to you in a positive way. Certainly the way Frank played the character he was one of the most sympathetic good guys I've seen in any movie. And the way you play yourself the same could be said for you.
I liked the article because it wasn't too schmaltzy and hearing about how you and Chaz have adjusted to the changes in your life personally helped me. It was refreshing to know you don't feel sorry for yourself and that you honor your wife needs by continuing to go out to dinner, to walk up the hill, to focus on the joy.
Like you, I've had a slew of surgeries (bone cancer, brain tumor, etc.--the list is boring) and one of the worst experiences I had was dealing with people feeling sorry for me. So I wanted to let you know I don't feel sorry for you--your life is filled with love. Love of work, love in marriage, love from readers, even love from bloggers and love from a writer you mentored over on deadspin.com.
The only part of the article that stuck in my craw was that the author portrayed you somehow as living in the past, through memories--and that seems inaccurate. Somehow your challenges propelled you into a new career where you're connecting with more people than ever and living is all about connections. So I would ask for a retraction there....anyway, take care! Annie
PS I miss Gene, too.
As long as you're still here among us, I don't care if you look like dog poop. Which you don't. But there - that gives you some room. :-)
I love you no matter what you look like, and even without having met you, because you gave me movies. Actually, what you gave me was new eyes, because I started to see films through yours, and it was as if I had ordered Magic X-Ray Specs from the back of the comic book and they actually worked.
And now I do my best to pass that on to students. And so it goes on and on, without end, amen.
Bless you and Chaz.
Hi Roger. I've certainly been reading a lot about (and by) you recently. The Esquire piece and your followup were wonderful by turns. I'll be tuning in to hear you on Oprah later on today.
Your earlier tweets about Doherty and Schickel have prompted a late-night blog entry on the film criticism game. Check it out if you're so inclined:
http://www.joelcrary.com/?p=4728
A personalized snippet: "It would be nice to hear the venerated critic deliver his own particular inflection of the word “because” again, a word of undeniable importance to critics. Coming from the Urbana–Champaign-bred Ebert, it cuts to his well formed reasons with a kind of street-tough disrespect for B.S."
Take care.
Some of Roger's fine work. Pimping.
-------------------------------------
The Carrie Nations release records and continue to perform successfully, despite constant touring and drug use. Upset at being pushed to the sidelines, Harris attempts suicide by leaping from the rafters of a sound stage during a television appearance by the band. Harris survives the fall but becomes paraplegic from his injuries.
Kelly ends her affair with Lance to care for Harris, Emerson forgives Petronella for her infidelity, and Casey and Roxanne have a steamy, intimate romance. But this idyllic existence ends when Z-Man invites Casey, Roxanne, and Lance to a psychedelic-fueled party at his house. After revealing he has female breasts and trying to seduce Lance, who spurns him, Z-Man goes on a murderous rampage: he beheads Lance with a sword (while the Twentieth-Century Fox Fanfare is heard on the soundtrack), stabs his servant Otto (Henry Rowland) to death, and shoots Casey and Roxanne, killing them.
Meanwhile, responding to a desperate phone call Casey made shortly before her death, Kelly, Harris, Pet, and Emerson arrive at Z-Man's house and try to subdue him. Petronella is wounded in the melee, which ends in Z-Man's death. The film's climax is a reference to the 1969 Tate-LaBianca murders by Charles Manson and his followers. Sharon Tate, who was among the Manson Family's victims, appeared in Valley of the Dolls (1967), which Beyond the Valley of the Dolls spoofs.
-----------------------------
Yeah, no worries Roger.
Why not check with that new age witch Oprah. Re your speech machine.
It's better to enter heaven without a tongue than to go to hell with your filthy mouth intact thru some machine.
Jud 1:21 Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.
Jud 1:22 And of some have compassion,(on the humble, Roger) making a difference:
Jud 1:23 And others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh. (that would be you Roger)
Praying that you get "scared straight."
DaniEl
Roger you're the best, i'll enjoy reading your writings for ever. I was lucky to accidently find out about you, learned tons from all the knowledge you've spread throughout the years.
Blessings from a 19 year old, dutch fan.
Mr. Ebert,
I have a subscription to Esquire and until I came across that article of you, I had no idea you were still writing. I remember watching you weekly back in the day on "At The Movies..." and sharing most of your critique.
I always found it funny that I shared most of your thoughts regarding the current crop of films at the time. Needless to say when you left the show it was an end of an era...at least for me. I enjoyed you that much.
So here we are a few years later. I was moved by the article and am happy that you are doing well or better.
Keep up the good work. I guess I now have a new blog to follow.
Cheers,
Richard
Thank you for being you, Roger. I love that you aren't afraid to speak your mind.
That article mentioned you're being a Leonard Cohen fan, were you aware of the line "Give me Leonard Cohen afterworld" in the Nirvana song "Pennyroyal Tea"? I couldn't tell you what that means exactly, Kurt Cobain often wrote nonsensical lyrics ("spring is here again, reproductive glands").
Also, this is entirely off topic, but have you ever smoked marijuana?
Watching you on Oprah now; you're looking good, bro!
Roger, I can't think of anywhere else appropriate to put this, but I just saw the interview you and Chaz did with Oprah this afternoon.
Wow.
I can't recall how many times i ever saw you smile on TV before this afternoon. Now, your perpetual smile brightens many. And I like the new voice - sounds a little mechanical but I'm sure the engineers will smooth it out. As I've said elsewhere you are extremely fortunate to have the strength of Chaz by your side through all you've been through. Have fun at the Oscars and continued best wishes.
Regarding the software, it impressed me so much during the Oprah interview that during the video of your Oscar picks after the commercial break, I forgot it was the software talking; I had gone onto your website during the commercial, and when she played the video clip with your voiceover, I was glancing back and forth from your website to the screen and it took me a while to remember that it wasn't you talking. Something of a "Oh yeah" moment. I wondered if inflection would be absent, but it seemed to be there.
It's great to hear your voice again.
I thought this was a brilliant article. It reminded me of why I became a journalist. I just meant to skim through it initially, but found myself putting everything else aside to read it. So compelling. I always liked Roger Ebert but now I have a new-found admiration. I didn't read his blog before, but I will now. Also, I read it in time to rush over and put the TV on to watch the Oprah interview this afternoon. So moving and inspirational. Roger, you are a scholar and a gentleman and a true hero.
I came across a youtube clip debuting your new voice! I don't know if this is from the Oprah episode - I can't watch Oprah due to my hours at work so I was checking around online to see if I could find video. Anyway:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMyxgSLESz8
I am so happy that this is happening for you! I assume there is more refining to do but it is definitely you.
Roger and Chaz,
It was an overwhelming experience to watch the love and happiness that exists in your marriage. To hear your voice which has the essential cadence and speech flow that was both natural and very human. How remarkable to listen to your Oscar picks (like the old days) was profound and just wonderful!
I don't have to worry about you so much. You look great! Those flickering images on the tube are worth a thousand words in print. The smile on your face, the body language of love between you and your lovely wife tells the story of courage and passion. You are a very lucky guy! Only Oprah could do this interview justice.
Judy Shuster
Roger this is the young Chicago Filmmaker Paul Branton (Pieces of a Dream) .... you are a class act. Your words still inspire & move me. Thanks again and please continue to be you - honest & witty
watched oparah to-day.i lost my voice 13 yrs ago im 56 female.belong to a new voice club.always hoped some one in the media or of importance would help bring back our voices in my life time.tried my-self ran out of money for research.inplant chips in wall of esophagus with small off and on switch you hold in hand or pocket .somewhat like a car start.i know what you mean about making people.i believe they only reason we are put on this planet is to help each other.if not helping we are just taking up space.im sorry you had to go through everything to get to the other side,i also had feeding tube,im using a electric larynex,sounds robotic.with research on DNA how can we get top dogs to spend money on new voice box.Rodger,Chez can you help.Living in halifax n.s. canada.
Huh, an article about you is on ABC News, along with a video of you using that program that you wrote about to act as your voice.
Roger Ebert Cheerfully Talks to Oprah Winfrey"
Too bad that on ABCNews, there isn't much in the ways of quality control in the comments section. Somebody seems to think you got Thyroid Cancer because he thinks you smoke.
You are awfully generous to the writer; I found the article elegiac and morbid to a fault. I'm sorry if that's redundant, but I'm a bit pissed. Its tone conveyed none of the pure energy of your mind.
That energy is so warm, it fairly radiates heat off the page. It is clear that your mind, your work and your marriage are in full swing.
Rhythm. Wit. Common sense. Heart. These are the values you infuse into your writing. And these are why you were a hero to me way before I knew you were sick. I don't mind Esquire painting you as a bit of a saint, but you are an ass-kicking Writing Saint. Not a sick guy saint.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I grew up in London and a friend of my borther's had a father who was a member of Parliament. One day he invited us to go visit his father as guests in the House of Commons. (Yes I am going somewhere relevant with this).
As we walked through the corridors of power with the mP showing us around, we approached a bronze bust of Oliver Cromwell, and our friend's dad told us the 'warts and all' story; then pointed out the warts on the statue's face. They were there.
My brother and I met you once, Mr Ebert, in 2001. We interviewed you for a documentary we were making about Haskell Wexler's 'Medium Cool'. It was a great interview. Thank you again.
I love what Pinto posted on Feburary 18th. I believe we all feel this way. Your brilliance and charm is as huge as ever. I will read the Esquire article soon. Your Oprah appearance was, to say the least, inspiring. Its as if your physical voice now resides in the light of your eyes. Such sparkle. Thank you for every moment.
Dearest Mr. Ebert, you may not understand it, but I hope I speak for others who feel you are like a part of our family who we respect and regard highly for the wisdom and knowledge you give us. You and your wife are so wonderful together. I wish you many years of happiness and I share my most favorite Bible verse, Psalm 118:24: "This is the day the Lord has made; Let us Rejoice and be glad in it." Each day is unique and there will never be another one like it. Best wishes to you both.
Hi Roger. I was watching your appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show and I discovered something very beautiful. It was the partnership between you and your wife Chaz. I have heard many times that human beings take many things for granted but I never knew how much depth this statement had until I saw you and your wife. I'm sure, with a longer life, I may discover even deeper depths to this one statement than I know now.
I was watching how she (Chaz) looked at you and all the love contained in those eyes, almost spilling out. All the years, and all the hope, and all the bad times, and all the good times, and all the surgeries. It was all there with grace and pride that must have been developed over the many years you two have spent together. It didn't show in much of a dramatic sense at first but it was there nonetheless. I like to believe (and actually do believe) that a strong love need not be seen only through tears, but through the strength people find in themselves to do what is needed for those whom they love. I saw every minute you were there, she was there with you and she has been there for you for a long time. I don't claim to know the times you two have spent and what they mean to the two of you, but I very much know that it must be a strong bond, and one the two of you have come to know, and most importantly, respect.
The lesson I learned a little more about was that of appreciation. How powerful the voices of others can be to those who love to hear them. There is so much identity in a voice that is not essential, but so precious, and yet many of us don't appreciate it. I heard three voices when listening to your words. The voice of a computer, the fimilar voice of past years, and the voice of your soul through words expressed the way you express them. It's that last voice that is present in the other two and it's the one I hear in your reviews, and will continue to hear no matter what voice is used on your computer. But I respect your desire to sound the way you did before, because though it's not essential, it is comforting.
I saw it in your wife's eyes on the show after she heard your fimilar tone through the speakers of a computer and I saw that it wasn't just a voice she was hearing, it was a familiar voice that she has associated with love and respect. A voice that got to get her through rough times and gave her a reason to listen, not with a need to fullfiil intruction, but with the pleasure of hearing the man that she loved in the familiar way she had always heard him. She loved and respected it far more than the millions of us watching ever could and it was beautiful to see. She loves and respects you no matter what, but to see how much warmth and comfort she got from those few sentences was touching in a way that words simply can not describe. I hope that the accuracy of that voice is perfected so that the two of you can enjoy that small, familiar comfort that many of us take for granted. I admire the courage and strength of both of you.
Thank you for letting your story be publicized. It was such a comfort to read your wonderfully candid comments about the Esquire article and then the beautiful article itself. After many years of small battles with tongue cancer, my husband had to have his tongue removed during surgery in 2006 and has been on a G-tube since. He is able to speak, thanks to his miraculous doctors. I had so many tearful moments reading about your journey and seeing the parallels to ours. What a beautiful discovery when I happened to click on your website to look up a movie review.
Just listened to the clip on the Huffington Post with you and Chaz testing your new voice. Last November I listened to an audio book read by Hawking, and I would also listen to your new voice on the DVD commentary of any film I was interested in learning more about. Ultimately it is your ideas and your thoughts expressed effectively with your new voice that we will again be able to hear, although if you polled your readers, most of us have heard your voice reading the words on your blog and reviews in our heads all of these years anyway, but this is a profound moment for you.
I'd like to invite you to speak at my small town Rotary Club (if you ever find yourself visiting Kidman in Nashville). Watching Chaz tear up when she heard your voice makes one realize the awesome power of love and relationships as a healing mechanism.
Dear Roger: I have not yet read this Esquire article. I will wait and take it to Michigan where I am at peace and can savor each word. Thank you for introducing me to that special part of the world. In any event, it was so good to hear your voice on Oprah today. The world knows you as a great film critic and I agree. But, I also cherish all your teachings on literature, music, philosophy, architecture, etc. (Not too long ago, I had the opportunity to pass my copy of The Pattern Language to Maggie). Yes, you are above all things a wise and knowledgeable sage who continues to instruct us well. And, as in film class, I sit humbly, and in awe, at your feet. Thank you for all that you are.
You have enriched my life by leading me to movies I would not have otherwise sought through your never dull TV reviews and your transcendent written reviews. These movies have by turns enlightened, delighted, challenged, and infuriated me - as they should. Thank you.
Roger:
I've always felt a little predisposed toward you.
Being a native of Decatur, Illinois, just a short 45 miles or so from where you are from, gave me great pride in you wherever I lived at the time.
No matter if I were in California, or Utah, or Oregon, or wherever; I would see you on TV and think "he's from back home".
Your reviews always have a bit of "earth" to them; or maybe it is corn and soybeans?
For the past 11 years I have been the owner of the 94 year old Avon Theater in Decatur.
It is considered one of the most successful independently owned first-run theaters in downstate Illinois (maybe one of the ONLY independent first-run theaters in downstate Illinois!) and I've always meant to come over to Champaign when you have your festival, but I am always too busy running my theater.
My point is this:
I am thunderstruck by your courage.
I consider myself a pretty tough guy, and I feel I am not afraid of anything or anyone...
But, what you have faced is so beyond my comprehension, I can only feel great humility in reading your words.
Some of my favorite movies are heroic epics like EL CID, SPARTACUS or BEN-HUR; but YOU have faced something that would have reduced Maximus from GLADIATOR or Hercules to a quivering mass of jelly!
And, you keep a'goin!
To paraphrase Mama from THE GRAPES OF WRATH: "You'll go on forever, 'cause you're the people!"
All I could think of when I read the interview and saw the video clips on Oprah is that when the statement, "Be strong and of good courage" was written in the Bible, it had to be about people exactly like you. Your face may have changed but your heart and your mind have grown much larger. Blogging is such a perfect thing for you. Someone wrote that your voice comes through when reading your interview because people are so familiar with your voice. It is just coming to us in a different way. I think you are remarkable and it shows gut level gratitude for each increment of progress and recovery you have made.
SO great to see you and Chaz on Oprah. The "Roger" voice is amazing--one can only marvel at the genuises who figured out this technology. And so wonderful to hear you once again talking about the Oscars.
OK, I know I'm posting at the end of a thousand-comment post and no one will probably read this. But Roger Ebert, I love the fuck out of you. I don't agree with you maybe most of the time about movies. I think you give film makers the benefit of the doubt way too much because you understand what they went through to make it.
But I also know this. The reason I know how much I disagree with you so much is because when I'm watching a movie on TV I will sometimes check your site to see if you had something to say about it. And sometimes I think you're just dead wrong. But I see your point.
When I was a kid, my parents would wait to see you and Gene Siskel before they would buy a ticket. I didn't care, but your opinion still held weight with me in some unexplainable way.
A few years ago, someone reminded me how fucking the best you are, and I started reading your stuff again. Oh. My. God.
The reviews are what they are, but a thousand comments about freaking subatomic theory? I don't give a fuck about your jaw. You are one of the few bright things in the world. Maybe you don't see it that way. But fuck voice gadgets for us. That's for your wife and your people and for you.
I hear things in your voice that you never wrote. I only realized how great you are when I started reading you again. You are the best.
I prefer to think of your facial appearance as emblematice of someone who has been through life's wars with the wounds to prove it. I see a man in whose chest beats the heart of a lion.
I beg to differ, Roger, on your interpretation of your current photo. I know what Chaz sees in you. You are beautiful, inside and out, then and now. The dearest person in my life also endured 11 surgeries, similar to yours. He also lost his voice and used notepads and sign language to communicate. The surgeries left his facial features different. But with each change, he just became more handsome. His determination to remain true to himself and inhale every moment of life given to him made me love him that much more. As someone who has walked in Chaz's shoes, I'm sure she loves you more each day. Thank you for sharing your life in this wonderfully written story.
I'm going to be honest, I just spent 15 minutes trying to say something witty, how I fall into the unemotional folk or trying to think different sentences/phrases/watchamacallits to say thank you, and how moving the article was to me. Your reviews are some of the ones I always look for before I go to the movie theater and I mostly heed your warnings/praises in movies, even though I am sure we don't share the same tastes.
Thank you for making the world a better place,
Miguel M.
Puerto Rico
You look fine, Mr. Ebert. I especially like the two photos in your library. Thanks for your wonderful writing.
Hi Roger:
Your story moved me today. I have been on a three year health trek and today was a realllllllly bad day. I saw something about your Oprah appearance and read the esquire article and then read your response to it.
it saved me. I have been waiting for some things to happen from a legal standpoint (i.e., waiting for a lawsuit result from the hospital that gave me a terrible infection that has resulted in chemo, disability and all of that stuff). Some days really are hard. I read your words and it gave me courage to keep going on. There are times when i'm feeling bad to the point that i feel totally "not understood". I read your words. I understand and felt a heck of a lot less alone. thank you Roger. I know it must have been hard to expose your soul in that way. But it spoke to me and for me. thank you for giving me a new injection of courage by your example. Love to you, Deb in Nevada.
I too hear the voice behind your words, and you've never been more beautiful! I have throat and neck cancer, a few surgeries, radiation/chemo, feeding tube etc. And I never felt like I was dying in increments either. Cherish life, and do what the doctors recommend as you inspire us to live. Love. (You are whole.)
Dear Mr. Ebert
I am an 18 year old college student who is currently enrolled in a journalism program. Although I am learning quite a bit about journalism, i am very interested in being a film critic. I may be young but i see many movies a week. Usually about 10 - 12 a week. I just wanted to say thank you for all the work you have done over the years which has inspired me and my love for films. If it weren't for you I may not have found what I truly love in life.
Also after reading the article I understood how upset you were about how the tribute to Gene Siskel was taken down. It uspset me as well to see that. I don't know if someone already posted it but you can find the video in 3 parts on Youtube now.
Part 1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzsmNHrZVeY
Part 2
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hh0bKJWs0Vw&feature=related
Part 3
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-hX5FepO3g&feature=related
I hope you enjoy watching it again, and i continue to look forward to your reviews every week.
-JKT
Dear Mr. Ebert:
After reading the article in Esquire, I felt compelled to share how inspired I was in your story. I am an attorney by trade, and I too, have made my living thoughout a long career by using my voice. Years ago I started having voice problems due to singing and for years I have harbored the fear of how I would make a living should I lose my ability to speak. Your story has encouraged me that I could survive in some form or another as long as my thoughts could reach the minds of those willing to listen. I applaud you for continuing to share your talent despite the obstacles placed in your way. For many years I enjoyed your commentaries on the movies. I was surprised and pleased to witness that your influence could go so much further.
Dear Roger, I watched you on Oprah (on the internet). Even though I read your reviews all the time, I was unprepared for the emotional impact of actually seeing you - and I cried. For five minutes. Maybe it's redundant to apply certain terms to overcoming illness - and maybe they're not all that applicable. But that's what it felt like, as if the spirit had worked its way through. Like in the emotion described here on a previous page, "Elevation;" to feel human goodness, and be affected by it.
Dear Roger,
Read your blog a few days ago (actually more than a few)and promised myself that no, I would not read the article online, I would get the Esquire magazine with your interview in it (plus, my baby girl wanted to read The Color Purple)....so, I dashed down to the bookstore, picked up both. I read the interview on the train, I read it on the bus, I read it during dinner. It's perfect. I suppose some people felt you were going to shake your fist at the heavens, pull out the rest of your hair, moan, groan oh woe is me. I think some were quite surprised at your optimism and the great love you have for oh so many things. You and your wife Chaz are quite a pair; you are both lucky to have each other.
Thanks Roger.
Hey mr. Ebert,
On the news, I saw you talking to Jerry Seinfeld; asking him if he was still amazed at his good fortune. When was this and wut else did you guys talk about?
Evening, sir...
I just finished reading the fabulous Esquire piece and there was a quote that caught me off-guard:
I thought this was brilliant and speaks volumes about the clarity I strive to possess in my life regarding dying. I'm only 33 now, but as my parents, in-laws, teachers, peers and other mentor-figures from my life start to pass on with more frequency, I discover I have trouble staying focused; staying committed to personal goals, professional challenges and even just basic participation in society.
However, when I happen upon jewels of wisdom like the quote above it helps me regain my focus...regain my grounding...to remind me not to live in fear or confusion, but to live strong and to live well and to not fear death because, as you said, I was perfectly content before I was born and death is the same state...
So thank you for that. Made my night.
Mr. Ebert,
My friends and I, as budding 10th grade filmmakers in 1980 Los Angeles, found validation and inspiration from two honest, intelligent movie critics on television. Your show illuminated the late '70s TV wasteland with wit, humor, and keen insight like a light out of the dim. We saw it, and were moved to reach higher.
Our first and only film homage was to you and Mr. Siskel, made before video and computer, on super-8 with a sound stripe.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6t0kqaGush0
After all, if Siskel and Ebert reviewed our efforts, even though they panned them, we had truly accomplished something.
Thank you from the heart.
http://ebertjunior.wordpress.com/
Mr. Ebert,
I had the pleasure of sharing a week at Rancho La Puerta at the same time that you and your lovely wife were there. I enjoyed your talks and I remember thinking that you and your wife seemed to share the same kind of sweetness and filial devotion that my own parents had for fifty-seven years. It was noteworthy not because of your name or your job, but because those are such rare qualities to find these days.
Ironically, my father was diagnosed with cancer of the larynx when he was eighty years old. Aside from that, he was in amazing shape for a man his age. After having radiation treatments and two neck dissections and a feeding tube, he had a full laryngectomy. I had two young daughters who adored him. I worried about how to explain it to them. I told them that even though he would look a little different, he would be the same Grandpa that they knew and loved and who loved them. They were actually fine with it.
After all of that, the cancer came back. He tried chemo, but it was ineffective. Eventually, long after the amount of time that his doctors thought that he had left, he finally succumbed. I am still grateful for all of the extra time that we were able to share. He handled everything that life ever threw at him with enormous personal grace, and he died while fully living (rather than dying while living).
You seem to share his attitude and his grace when life has challenged you. Yes, you look different. But, you are still you. Hell, all of us look different than we did years ago. It is a matter of degree, but the substance is the same.
All I know is that I would gladly and willingly trade my right arm for fifteen more minutes with my dad, regardless of how he appeared.
Every once in a while, I will dream about him. And, in every dream, he still has his voice. When I awaken, I am happy until I realize that it was just a dream. But, it is not because I miss the sound of his voice (frankly, he was never a huge talker in the first place), it's because I miss him.
You and your wife set a wonderful example for the rest of us. I hope that perhaps if and when I make it back to the ranch, I will see your still shining face and that of your beautiful (inside and out) wife. Until then, I wish both of you all the best.
Hi Roger,
I've just now seen a short clip of your interview on Oprah. I wish I could have seen the whole thing. Wonderful, wonderful! What a strange feeling to hear your voice again, if only for a few seconds. I'm excited by the potential of it all, not only for you but everyone who may need or desire it. Well done CereProc!
"Everyone who may need or desire it". I just realized that I may have been talking about myself there. Your voice is distinctive and threaded through my memory after years of watching you on tv. It came to represent a certain something in my mind. Something about movies, about art and acting. About how to tell a story. You are my inner voice of authority on these topics. The one I tend to defer to when I'm thinking about films and writing. And there it was again, like a tall frost covered glass of rootbeer! Haha! Wonderful.
Hi, Roger--
I've been emailing you on occasion for years, giving you my unwanted 2 cents on movies. You wrote back only once--I must have really complained about your supportive review of the film "The Interpreter." You gave me one line "It wasn't that bad."
Your writing has become absolutely phenomenal. I've been reading your reviews since you started writing them and have come to consider you the word on film.
Tana
Roger,
I stumbled upon Chris Jones' Esquire story about you today, completely by accident. As I do with most intriguing internet finds, I chose to peruse the first few lines, expecting to become bored quickly, only to find myself unable to stop reading.
Your story is... unbelievably uplifting. To be honest, you haven't exactly been a figure I've chosen to keep up with at all in the past few years - I'm only 20, so give me some credit. :) However, for some unfathomable reason, I remember watching your show with Siskel as a little girl. That memory probably sticks out to me because it's one of the few I shared with my father, who died in February of 1999.
I generally consider myself a happy person, but I have deep fits of depression that can make the world seem like a really cold and hopeless place. The past few months have felt that way, so that even the most beautiful experiences just seem to pass in front of me in a detached manner, tainted by a film of gray apathy. Reading about your resilience has sparked an intense amount of hope and fresh resolve within me. You truly are an inspiration to me, most importantly because of your perspective. I find it so easy to fall into a repetitive thought-pattern of self-pity, and it usually takes a very strong jolt to pull me out of it. Tonight, that electrifying jolt was you, and your story. So, thanks for being yourself, and thank you so much for not giving up.
- Sarah Hibner
Several years ago my husband and I attended the Overlooked Film Festival in Champaign, Illinois. It was well after we both graduated from the University of Illinois. We just felt like going. We decided on the documentary, On the Ropes. I found it incredibly fascinating and heartbreaking. Afterwards my husband and I walked out to leave and there you were. You were walking with two other gentlemen. All of a sudden you turned and looked right at me like you were waiting for me to say something about the film so I said, “That was awesome!” You then responded in a regal voice, “It was, wasn’t it?” I nodded. I couldn’t believe that you said that to me! Roger Ebert himself! I was so excited. For years I have told that story and now I am telling it to you. I am so glad that you are my one brush with fame.
Roger.. today I saw you and Chaz on Oprah... I love that you can talk thru the computer and am excited about you getting your voice to do that for the future.. God Bless you and Chaz.. I have followed you since the late 70's when I used to watch you and Gene on Sneak Previews and every since on all the incarnations of your review show.. Watched you and Richard Roper and then just him and guest hosts waiting for you to come back.. You are back!! You never left.. I read your reviews each week..I review all the movies I watch on Yahoo and have quoted you a time or 2..!!!lol... anyhoo.. Take care, We are pulling for ya and keep up the good work..:)
Your an inspiration to my soul, thank you for sharing your life with us.
John and I were privileged to hear you and Chaz discuss your medical ordeal and your love story a couple of years ago at Rancho la Puerta. We were so impressed by the Esquire article; it made us feel as though we were there with you. In fact, we all are in spirit and admiration. Best wishes to you both.
For years I listened to you rant and rave about movies. Like you, I love watching a movie. I'd like to think I'm a pretty decent movie critic, but YOU are THE CRITIC.
I am a bit taken back by your decision not to have another surgery. The technology is there for a reason. If your doctor feels he can do it, I don't see why you won't try.
You are alive for a reason. To rate movies, to share your opinions and to be alive. The title of this blog should have been Robert Ebert's Sequel. Some sequels were actually better than the original (Star Trek 2, Dark Knight, Mad Max 2).
Cheers Mr. Ebert -> from the Queen of the Click
Roger,
After all these years, you continue to be on the top of my list of The Most Talented Writers.
Back in the early 1960's you sat behind me in a couple of literature classes at the University of Illinois. You seemed to be an admirer, even a friend, of the instructor - Daniel something. (I can't remember his last name.) I was also appreciated his gift as a teacher.
What I also remember from those classes is the gifted student who sat in back of me. You were already destined for stardom as a writer. (You must have read some of your papers in class, or the professor read them aloud. It's hard to remember.) At any rate, somehow it was disclosed that you were able to write these "professional" quality papers in "five minutes". Amazing to me - who lingered over every word and phrase.
A word I would assign to you today, if I had to choose one word, would be INTEGRITY. You seem to be the same man today that you were then - full of amazing talent and using that talent for the benefit of all people. No nonsense, no selfishness.
Thank you for the gift you have been to me!
I have just read this article about Mr. Ebert and it was profoundly moving and I too at work was really overwhelmed by the intenseness of this wonderfully written article and how profoundly honest and kind and caring it seems to reflect not only Mr. Eberts kind and caring ways but the writers shear courage and audacity and his incredibly beautiful ways of putting this all together in such a way as to make me feel personally like I have viewed the inner voice and the inner soul of this illustrious man who has been such an incredible presence for all of us in this life! Even though as you can see from the enclosed video """JOEYS STORY""' we all seem to have possibly come from very austere and many from not just humble beginnings but some of us have literally survived from our own personal """HOLOCAUST"" Mr. Jones has brought us an insight into the true man and his wonderful works in a way that very few are afforded the oportunity to bring their life totally and completely whole and somehow showing the magnanimous gesture to Mr. Ebert of being super kind and super caring this article defines not only the true man of character and indomitable strength and spirit of Mr. Ebert but it also makes the writer Mr. Jones an inspiration to us all for his profoundly good works in behalf of a real """treasure""" to all of us and may you have peace and fondest light and sincerest love and life and health and happiness all your born days Mr. Ebert and yes we ""HEAR""" you with our ""eyes""" now loud and clear now Mr. Ebert so keep up the good work and aloha from """PARADISE!"" HAWAII RICK PIVA aka """LITTLE JOEY!""" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTPuZ4YKc_Y
Ebert: After seeing comment 1001, being the last of many a fabled list of 1001 something or others. I thought it fitting to write 1002.I was so happy to see the Esquire piece. It's nice to see that you're still continuing to enlighten us with your seemingly unsurpassed knowledge of the movies. I remember the first time I saw you and Siskel, when I was in junior high school. My family owned a video rental store at the time, so I was perhaps more interested in anything to do with the movies than a normal junior high kid. I thought who in the hell are these guys arguing back and forth and not really telling me about the movie, as in addressing the viewer rather than all but ignoring the cameras. At first it was very love/hate for me. As in I loved hating you guys. Then I grew up a but and started to see the wisdom in having two competing newspaper guys go at it on TV, and actually came to enjoy the show.
I plan on reading more of your journal, as your your philosophical views on life resulting from your battle with cancer and treatment have struck a resounding chord with me, that we actually seem to share. Regardless of how you go through life, just having it and being happy are the most important.
As another reader, Pinto, commented, Your voice also remains in our minds, and resonates in your writing. "Familiarity and respect also let others take up room in our minds rent-free."
Keep on doing what you love!
this is the first time i've seen you since your surgeries, although from reading your tweets i understood that there have been profound changes. my reaction was: the hair is too smooth.
i never would have guessed how much i would come to enjoy you; to be honest i think that your changes have enriched you. you're more than you were before. roger, but better.
Roger
My wife and I watched your commentary of "Casablanca"again tonight.Most people never find their voice. You my friend,have found it twice. Congratulations.
I'm not sure how to address you. "Mr. Ebert" sounds too formal but "Roger" sounds too casual for someone I don't know. Perhaps I should just start with "Howdy".
I saw your story on the Yahoo news banner when I was checking my email. Wow, it's an impressive photo. I'm glad that you liked it. It caught my attention and made me want to read the article. I'm happy that you found your life and are willing to share what you have learned. It seems to me that there are so many variables in life that you never know where you're going to end up (or not).
It's funny because I read in one of the posts where someone mentioned a movied called "My Name is Khan". I bought a new printer yesterday and spent four hours today trying to install it. I arrogantly think myself smart enough to figure out how to hook up a printer. I'm a (technical) writer, I can read directions and can follow them (provided they've not been translated into English from Chinese). So I'm on the phone with tech support trying to get the silly printer to function as advertised and while we're waiting for my computer to reboot the tech support guy suddenly says, "So how was your day"?
The question kinda caught me off guard and I mumbled some response but we started talking about India (which is where he is located) and Indian movies. One of the movies he recommended was the one previously mentioned. Gotta be something in that right?
There a song on the radio about how we should "live like we're dying". Feels like a grain of truth to that. I recently found out that my 11 year old son's father is dying of pancreatic cancer and my son and I are still coming to terms with it. I like Donald (my sons father) I just don't want to be married to him, so I feel really bad about this diagnosis. What makes me feel worse is that he's 57 years old and doesn't really care about the time he has left. He says he's not in any pain (yet) but he also says that he's ready to go. I think I'm superimposing my own feelings on to him but it still feels like such a waste to piss away what time he has left.
You on the other hand seem to be maximizing your life. I like your comment about figuring out what's really important and what's just a waste of your time. Do you have any words of wisdom I could share with Donald?
I don't know how I would be in the same situation but I'm grateful that you have decided to share your experience with us. That may be your greatest gift of all - the fact that you don't hold anything back.
I always enjoyed watching you and Gene verbally spar and it showed me at a young age how people can disagree and still walk away as friends. Thank you for that example of grace. It was a fun show to watch and I was sorry as hell when it ended and for the reason. I wish more people could argue vehemently for their cause and walk away afterwards without the use of explosives to prove their point.
Sorry to blather on but it's 1:30am here in Houston, Texas and I don't think anyone is ever going to read this post anyway but just in case I wanted to give you my two cents worth. The way this has wrapped up I think I probably owe you far more that that.
Anyway, I'll be wandering over to your blog tomorrow (or is that later today?) and you can count me as a new reader. Wish I could write as eloquently as you do - maybe if I read enough of your blog some of it will rub off on me? Stranger things will happen I suppose.
Good luck and peace be with you and all of those you love.
Cheers,
Hope U.
Since there's no comments thread on your Oprah piece, i'll just write my thoughts here, as it's the most contextually similar.
I've been following the progress of your health since it was announced that you had cancer, and to be truthful, it was the worst news I heard. As a filmmaker, one of my personal goals was to have you review one of my films, whether good or bad, I would simply relish in the thought that Roger Ebert, a film critic i had watched as a child, and loved spoofed in "The Critic", would watch one of my films-- as a matter of fact, I love your bad reviews more than the good.
Today, I saw the interview that you did, after reading the Esquire piece, and your advance here, and was truly moved by it. I didn't think that hearing your voice again would affect me, since we're relative strangers, but it felt like a relative speaking to me for the first time in years, I think I was misty eyed before they cut to Chaz. I was, and still am, deeply moved by what everyone has been saying about you, but nothing really hit quite as close to home as an article written by Will Leitch for Deadspin. Written by a person who met his idol and managed to develop a long lasting relationship with them again incited misty eyes.
Your words are still strong with us, and there's still a young crop of filmmakers and cinephiles that value your opinion. Even though you lost your speech, you haven't lost your voice, and we're all still listening.
Heard the short youtube clip of your appearance on Oprah.
Wow. You weren't kidding when you said CereProc was doing a great job recreating your voice. And to think this is just a beta version.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
You've inspired me beyond words! I'm a tap dancer,so I'll share this inspiration through my dancing. Here I am, at 2 A.M., thinking about so many of your statements and reflections from the Esquire article. I read it twice today and also saw you on Oprah. I've just jotted down several of your statements,that I plan to share with family and friends, and will refer to frequently: "to make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts", "we must contribute joy to the world", "low self esteem involves imagining the worst that others can think about you" and I love the line about resentment! Brilliant. These statements are the best kind of food- food for thought. By the way, when I look at your photo, I see a man of great courage, determination, wisdom and love of life. And watching the devotion and love between you and Chaz today was breathtaking. Thank you for all you've given us and continue to give us. You've deeply touched the hearts of so many.
Mr. Ebert,
I was not aware of your bout with cancer and have not read the Esquire article. I am writing after seeing you on Oprah yesterday. I watched somewhat in disbelief because it seemed surreal seeing you. I felt like I did on June 25, 2009 (the day Michael Jackson died). In both cases I am sitting watching the screen, thinking; "this doesn't happen". Alas, however it does happen, time passes and we face mortality. Speaking of the aforementioned Jackson, I remember reading your review of THIS IS IT and thinking, well it MUST be good, Roger said it was worth while (talk about gravitas).
You are iconic to me in the same way that Jackson was. There is a part of my make-up regarding movies that was shaped by you in the way that Jackson did for me in music. As a 43-year-old man, there has not been a time in my life surrounding the cinema when you are not a point of reference. Even after the passing of Mr. Siskel and they tried to pair you with others I watched in spite of your inferior co-hosts because you were my reference point or litmus test regarding whether a movie was worth my time.
This probably sounds quite normal for you to hear, but add the facts that I am a black man that grew up in the inner city. I do not consider myself "high brow" in any way, nor am I unusual in my view of what you mean to movies when it comes to the people with whom I grew up or am acquainted. Everyone, knows who Roger Ebert is, what he does, and what his reviews mean. It was not until I saw you and Gene on television that those tags added by Rex Reed or Peter Travers, to movie advertisements meant something. You did for movie reviews what Tiger Woods did for golf. You made it appreciable to every man. You made criticism cool. You gave my college and roommate: Deen Bohler and me resonance with people, as he (6'2" and slender) and I (5'11" and stocky) sat and gave our shtick about what movies folks should see; all the while casting a familiar and unmistakable shadow for our parody. Everyone knew who we were supposed to be, just as people know who golfers think they are when they dress in the red polo and black pants. Your thumb up or down is as recognizable as Tiger's fist pump. or Michael's moonwalk.
Giving two thumbs up and telling us why we should or should not see a movie, gave us a real education about cinema. You are here to stay in our minds forever and even though your voice is not audible, I can hear your words whenever I read a review you have written.
You are and shall always be a part of something bigger than yourself. You were not the first to do it, nor will you be the last, others might eventually be better at it, some may become more famous or wealthy for it, but as Michael was to the music video or Tiger is to golf, I highly doubt that there will be anyone ever as important to movie reviews than Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert.
Beautiful.....most of it...
My only sadness from this article is that Mr. Evert has not found God! Imagine how much more happier he would be, if he invited God into his life... How sad for anyone to believe that you leave this earth and 'dissapear" into thin air. That to me would make all this "wonderful life" worthless.
Think about it!!
Roger, I just saw you on Oprah and both my wife and I were blown away by that new computer voice. Hearing it reminded me just how long it has been since I had heard it. I hope it's something that works out for you.
I visit your site every week, and to be honest I frequently forget that you were sick. It's the same ol' Rog here online. All the best.
Wonderful articles and interviews given on both sides. I enjoyed reading every word of the Esquire article, Mr. Ebert as well as his wife are truly classy people. I am inspired by their endurance and story. I still miss the show with Siskel & Ebert, I used to watch with my parents. Please don't stop writing, we are still listening out here! Much love:)
for the past 3 or so years (im 21) the first thing i do when im done watching a movie is read your review for it. after every single movie. at first it started because your reviews seemed to pop up first in google, eventually i got used to reading yours so i searched for your reviews specifically. now i read your reviews religiously, and it got this way without me ever knowing that you were one of the most respected critics, The Critic, even. and today i read for the first time of your hardships. its strange, because of all things that i read, i feel that you pieces possess the strongest voice. all these years ive been reading your reviews i really felt that you were speaking to me, conversing rather than simply analysing a work. perhaps this is why i got so hooked on hearing what you have to say. anyway, my point is that you have always been very inspiring to me, and now, even more so. thank you!
Hi Roger! I just wanted to say that I just watched the Oprah segment, and have two comments. First, your wife is amazing. You two are so lucky to have each other. Although I understand how personal such a thing would be, I hope that you will write about how the two of you met, etc., someday. It's a story I know we'd all love to hear if you're willing to share.
Second, your new "voice" sounds wonderful! I can't believe how much it sounds like you! You must be delighted. And since it's a "beta" version, I assume they're still working on it? Regardless, I was amazed at how much it sounded just like the Roger Ebert I remember. CereProc did really great work there.
Anyway, I loved the segment and am so happy for you for finding your "voice" again. Sending good thoughts your way for continued good health!!
Dear Roger:
Just keep writing those movie reviews. I need someone to tell me which are the good ones and why. Life is too short to watch garbage!
When I first looked at your picture, I was not sure it was even you. Then I looked at the eyes. I was comforted. You're still there. Of course, your voice is still there in your writing. I hear it when I read.
The reports of your death are greatly exaggerated.
The internet world is magical, isn't it? I live in a fairly isolated, conservative community in South Louisiana which isn't at all "me" and yet I have found myself transformed and free to express myself because of programs like Twitter, Facebook and blogging. I, like you, could not imagine my internet being down for several days at a time.
Of course, you've lost a lot of great and important functions which I still have, but I was touched by how, in the face of negative experiences, you've opened up your writing, thinking, and voice to a much wider audience. As someone whose ideas are not always commonplace and who has struggled because of sexual identity and other factors, this is so welcome and refreshing to see.
Keep on writing, keep on speaking. Because the words you write, though digital, inspire and captivate a lot of people.
I went to your blog page today (as promised) and read some of your other stuff...I'm not sure if I should throw all my pens away or buy a bigger box of them. To write more or not at all is my dilemma. You've written about so many things that hold my attention I feel like I could spend days reading and not even scratch the surface.
Anyway, thanks for the words, thoughts, ideas, and so many other things you've given us that are priceless.
Cheers,
Hope U.
Roger,
I have missed you and my movie-going has suffered as a result. 2012? Could've had a grande mocha latte instead! Now that I've found your blog, as a result of your appearance on Oprah, we won't be making those kind of mistakes any more.
Yes, you look different, but your eyes are still sparkling with a bit of a wicked glint and judging by your blog, the rapier wit hasn't dulled. Thank you so much for being such a welcome and delightful part of our lives - from the early days on WTTW (I'm from Chicago) to now. You are much beloved.
Warm regards,
South Side Nikki
Roger,
Thank you for sharing your story with us through the Esquire article.
I've never been a huge movie buff... I may see a handful each year and usually on DVD. But something interesting happened years ago. I found myself regularly logging on to your site to read your reviews. And most of the reviews I read were for movies I had no intent to ever see.
While I may disagree with your conclusions at times I've always enjoyed your insight & wit. Please keep writing and I wish you and your family well.
I saw a clip of your Oprah appearance on Jezebel.com. Are you going to write about that? I liked what you said about coming to peace with our bodies and moving forward. It made me think of a recent NYT article about Kirstie Alley's new show and our culture's weight obsession, and also about your lovely hostess, Oprah. How has your experience changed your perception of beauty? I'd love to read something about that, specifically in regards to the obesity epidemic.
Hi Roger.
One last channel-surf in a hotel on the road last night before bed and...I caught you on Oprah!
You and Chaz were wonderful! It was great to see you in motion, not just the stills on the blog.
When Chaz choked up, I choked up. Truly. She is terrific.
But you! You smile with your whole body! :) Such zest for life.
You are more than a survivor. You are a thriver.
Well done.
Dear Roger,
I want to share a story. First though, I want to tell you how much I loved the Esquire piece, as a long-time subscriber and incidentally, a neighbor of Chris Jones in Ottawa (I mean literally, across the street) I have always loved his writing and when I saw his byline underneath your photo, I knew I was in for something great. AS usual, both of you did not disappoint.
I think the main reason I love film as much as I do was to have the good fortune to have a childhood friend who took his cues alternately from John Waters and Roger Ebert. Thanks to Todd, I had watched both Female Trouble and Sneak Previews by the age of 10, and had read both "A Kiss is Still a Kiss" and "Shock Value" by the end of junior high.
Now what do Ebert and Waters have in common you might ask? Anyone who has read your original review of Pink Flamingos would surely say "nothing at all". But for a teenage Todd with aspirations of his own career in directing and criticism, you were both uncompromising, and would never sell out.
Sadly, Todd died in his early 20s when he lost control of his car on a Vancouver Island highway and veered into the path of a logging truck. He never did see either of his heroes fail to live up to his youthful expectations.
Why am I thinking about this? Well, reading Will Leitch's piece on Deadspin made me think about all of the bohemian friends I have had over the years who would have accused you of "selling out" - or more specifically, "softening up." As I sit here at my desk in Ottawa, watching my children play and reminiscing about the past, I can only appreciate the way that your sensibility has become somehow more developed over the years -- complex, authentic, and human.
Reading your writing over the past few years, you hear the voice of someone with a great depth of experience and emotion. Pain? Yes, but also, exuberance. Anger? Yes, but love as well. Even within the confined space of a film review, there you never fail to provide a snapshot of the human experience to which I can always identify. I smile often and sometimes I tear up as well.
I guess I just want to thank you for persisting, and growing as well.
Dear Mr. Ebert:
I only just now found your blog. I have a lot of catching up to do.
I just want to tell you, as millions of others have already, how much I love you. I have been a movie fanatic since I was 8 years old, living in Miami with only one TV station that showed old movies.
You and Gene Siskel, but especially you, are my favorite critics. I miss your show so much, you can't imagine.
In my younger days and even today, I wish I had married you... what fantastic conversations we would have had... (my apologies to your wife).
I have not always agreed with you, but that's what makes life interesting... I don't agree with Pauline Kael all the time either! ; - ) much love and happiness to you and your wife. flora maccoll, gainesville florida
Dear Sirs,
I saw the photo of Mr. Ebert, post surgery. You have my sympathy and understanding; I am disabled and in mid-stage dementia. This kind of thing happens to all of us, eventually. I read Roger Ebert's movie reviews because he is the most concise, fair, and like-minded movie critic I have read or heard. Mr. Ebert, better health for you in the future, God willing.
Sincerely,
Kevin Wethington
I've never seen your TV show, and the first time I heard your voice was this evening watching the short video previewing your appearance on Oprah.
Yes, the one where you talk with your new voice.
So many of your readers and so many of those who comment on your journal have spent years reading your words and listening to your voice. I haven't, but I wish I had. But I do now.
I can't remember precisely how I came about your blog. I think I must have read one of your reviews, no doubt about a film I much loved - I have a habit that after seeing a film I've loved I find as many reviews of it as I can, in a way just to see why others appreciated it. Needless to say your review was one I found, and it was a wonderful review (but what was the film?!) and from there I ended up here on your journal. The first post I read was "The Longest Thread Evolves" - I hadn't even read the original post but I was still fascinated. And I was amazed reading about the comments it had gained, the number of them and the intelligence of them.
IT's been said before, many times no doubt, but this journal isnt about films, and nor are your reviews to be honest - they're more personal than that. I'm consistently impressed by what you write, and more often than not agree with your conclusions. there's such compassion, honesty and understanding - it's a shame there aren't more people with your insight.
I've only known your work for a few months yet I have come to admire it greatly. The Esquire article and many of your blogs have been incredibly moving - inspiring even.
So, in short, keep doing what you're doing, because you do it better than any other.
Yesterday I seen Roger Ebert on Oprah I didn't catch the story on how his face was disfigured. I think I might know the reason for that. My family in Georgia were watching some woman's kids in Atlanta and weve been having problem's with there whole family. They are really terrible to my grandfather Lucsious Godfrey whole family. There mother was Beodesse Geter Rosser and there father was supposed to be John Henry Rosser they both died along time ago and there owon kids lived with my grandparents in Atlanta, Ga. They killed both of my grandparents and some relatives of mine, some of them have H.I.v and there giving this diease to people, and they also do spells on people. I think I heard you have a car accident it might be because of your related to one of my grandparents. You've probly had a spell put on you I would like to talk to someone about this could you please give Donna Reeves Godfrey a phone call at 770-864-1664 so I could get your info and explain the whole story. I've been trying to get help but no one will help me out.
Thank You,
Donna
Roger,
Once I was in a weekly group that included a man whose face had been horribly burned, and was a mass of ugly scars. It was hard to look at him the first time. But very quickly, as his personality shone through, I completely forgot his looks and related to him as just another good person. The transformation was amazing. I think that is the case with you.
We have always treasured the times you have visited Boulder for the Conference on World Affairs.
Best to you, Roger!
Arden Buck
Nederland, CO
Roger, I think you are more beautiful now than you have ever been.
I have had tongue cancer since 2006 and got a G-tube on March 1. My doctor says that so little is done for us because it is difficult for us to speak for ourselves. Are you the celebrity spokesperson that we have been waiting for?
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I remember two things about television very fondly growing up: 1. The Muppet Show and 2. Siskel and Ebert at the Movies. I adored watching you guys and listening to the critiques. No one could tear me away from the set during that time. You and Siskel helped foster my great love of movies.
I just wanted to say that I think you are fabulous. I always did. You were always so honest and forthright in your opinion. And, of course, that has not changed. I'm so happy to be reading your online journal, and I look forward reading lots more.
Best wishes from a life-long fan.
Natasha J. Stillman
(an Ohioan living in Wellington, New Zealand)
Roger:
This comes from a fellow journalist. I just want to thank you for enriching my life and so many others with your writing. I am late getting to the "comments" party after reading you religiously for years, but felt like it was past time.
My name is Scott Fowler. I'm a sports columnist at the Charlotte Observer. I first saw you in 1978, with Gene Siskel, reviewing "Grease" on PBS. I was 13. That review prompted my parents to take me to "Grease," which allowed me to get a look at Olivia Newton-John. So I was first grateful to you simply for that.
Later, my first newspaper job was in Lexington, Ky., in the 1980s. To my delight, I found that they syndicated your reviews as well as a lot of the profiles and other stuff you did. That was my first experience with movie criticism as art.
Several children later, you became the tiebreaker as my wife and I stalked Blockbuster's aisles, trying to find something we both would like.
Now I follow you on this blog and Twitter and wherever else you show up. Just joined the Ebert Club, too -- sounds cool. Thanks for allowing the "Esquire" piece to be done. I know it is hard for the interviewer to turn into interviewee, just like it's hard to let someone else drive the car sometimes. You and your wife did it well and the world is richer for it.
Thanks, Roger, for being so prolific too. You are an inspiration to a whole lot of journalists everywhere, partly because you just give us so darn much to read. I think covering sports and critiquing movies has something in common -- no matter what you just saw, there's always another movie or game coming down the road toward you, and that's something you can always look forward to.
Thanks for being a great newspaper guy, as well as for everything else...
Scott Fowler
Charlotte Observer
Roger:
I was just researching my Oscar picks for 2010 and read your predictions, which made me think of the excellent article that you so bravely agreed to do.
I've always been a fan of yours and because of that article it's easier to understand why. It isn't just movies you have a deep appreciation and understanding of, but life and people and the things that matter most. It makes me want to kick out the freeloaders (from my mind) and live a little more boldly. Thank you for that!
Sincerely,
Kristy Griggs
Atlanta, Georgia
Less than a year ago, my partner also had his jaw removed due to cancer. And I'm a high school film teacher. Thank you for opening up your life and mind. I'm doubly blessed. I'm hoping he'll read the article and your blog, as well, though he wasn't ready to see you on Oprah.
My students just finished watching Alejandro Amenabar's "The Sea Inside" as a follow up and juxtaposition to Zhang Yimou's "To Live." I'm trying to teach them to think about life, and to be open to it and other people, just as I'm trying to understand it, and my partner's and my own.
Less than a year ago, my partner also had his jaw removed due to cancer. And I'm a high school film teacher. Thank you for opening up your life and mind. I'm doubly blessed. I'm hoping he'll read the article and your blog, as well, though he wasn't ready to see you on Oprah.
My students just finished watching Alejandro Amenabar's "The Sea Inside" as a follow up and juxtaposition to Zhang Yimou's "To Live." I'm trying to teach them to think about life, and to be open to it and other people, just as I'm trying to understand it, and my partner's and my own. For tomorrow, I plan on using your words for my students' daily journal prompt: I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out. (Roger Ebert)
Perhaps I'm learning to be a better person, a better partner and teacher, through all this. Perhaps I'm trying to commit fewer crimes. I'm certainly hoping to inspire my students to do the same. Thank you for inspiring me.
Through the magic of the internet, I have found that I love you, Roger and Chaz, and, in turn, am sending my love to you right now.
Mr. Ebert,
I think that I have a serious mancrush on you. I love you, man. You are the best of the best and one of the reasons that I have not offed myself already. I don't know why you have given me a new life. But you have.
Thank you sir.
May you live long. And keep it up.
Rich
We love you over here in Nigeria Roger. You and Chaz are definitely lucky to have each other. Your writing will always continue to inspire...all over the world. BTW, I thought the article was very well written and revealing.
I wish you all the best...definitely my movie hero!!!!
We love you over here in Nigeria Roger. You and Chaz are definitely lucky to have each other. Your writing will always continue to inspire...all over the world. BTW, I thought the article was very well written and revealing.
I wish you all the best...definitely my movie hero!!!!
Roger--You are surrounded by beauty in your life. I know that you know how lucky you are. Thank you for sharing your advice, thoughts, opinions for the last few decades. It has made a difference in my life--I appreciate it. Laura
Dear Roger,
I first answered one of your more esoteric journal topics about a year ago and spontaneously found myself proclaiming my love for you. After reading the Esquire article, seeing Oprah clips and reading more of your journal I am only more enamoured. Now I'm determined to start collecting your books. I feel like a kindred anglophile spirit, undergoing oddly synchronistic emotional milestones and challenges, mourning losses and now fighting cancer too, but you are a magnificent example of ongoing courage, dignity and enthusiasm!
I haven't read the piece yet - I look forward to it immensely. I'm commenting because I was fortunate enough to see you and your wonderful wife on OPRAH. The root beer memory was just wonderful. This summer one of my oldest (in both senses of the word) friends died. It was time but I miss her so much. The last time I saw her she recognized me - a delight because she was slipping in and out of consciousness at the time and I was so lucky to get to talk with her one last time - and asked for ROOT BEER!
I got some immediately of course but by the time I got back she wasn't able to take anything by mouth. It's a lovely memory of my friend Mary Shanahan and her sparkling Irish eyes saying "Libby, will you get me some root beer?" and knowing she was being just a little naughty. I'm glad root beer has such fond memories for you, too. Keep enjoying your life my friend!
Hi Roger,
There isn't a review or book of yours that I haven't read.
And when you're on the tube...I sit down and watch.
I sooo enjoy your observations and have come to believe I am a much more astute lover of films because of you.
In my book...YOU'RE BAD-ASS!
Casey Chambers
Wichita, KS
Hello Roger from a regular fan, film lover, old man, me:
When I saw your new photo, I tried to see if it were you. So I looked at the eyes. Your eyes have changed. They are more insightful.
My guess is they changed when you looked, really looked and looked much harder than before, into Hell. The people I know who have taken THAT look, often show it in their eyes.
Best regards from a guy one year younger than you who is also "hearing footsteps."
CH, Ph.D. cinema studies, NYU 1976
Dear Roger and Chaz,
I just finished reading your Esquire article and I am so deeply touched and moved that I had to comment. Thank you both so much for your courage in sharing such an intimate window on your lives. It was breathlessly beautiful to me.
I know how difficult life is when you're thrown a wild curve ball that drastically alters your course. I know what it takes to move forward in a direction you don't want to travel in.
I am a woman who ran into a house while being shot at so that I could wrestle with a gunman. I was trying to save the gunman and his hostage, and failed.
I am a woman who stood by her newlywed husband when he had cancer, and succeeded.
I am a woman who felt the world was a hopeless, shallow abyss, until I read your article. I thank you for your courage. I thank you for your strength. I thank you for the glimmer of your raw souls.
"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." ~Michelangelo
Perhaps there are those who only see the marks of the chisel but I see the inner angel that has been set free. And I could weep with joy at his wondrous beauty.
Thank you. Peace and love to you both.
I just wanted to say I really enjoy the fascinating stories you tell about your life on your blog. You have a way of making the mundane sound like the most exciting, involving events ever (I think I'm saying you're a really good writer. :) Keep up the great work!
Roger, I loved reading all of the above. You are the center of a special moment in my life, back in the late 1980s.
I was standing in the popcorn line during the intermission of Kurosawa's "Ran" in a mid-north theater. You came up and stood next to me. I don't approach celebs, believing they have it tough enough but I was pleased when you asked my opinion of what we were seeing. You then questioned me about Japanese films. By the time we each got our popcorn (it was a long slow line) you invited me to offer my comments on the movie Hari Kiri to your class the next week.
At your invitation, I attended your class through the rest of that semester on Japanese films and again the following semester on Film Noir.
It was a wonderful experience in every way. I even learned to unwrap a candy bar without making noise!!
Thank you again.
Namaste Roger, thank you for sharing your journey with us, you are truly a man in full bloom!! I will never NOT hear your voice when I read your words.
It was wonderful seeing you and Chaz together on Oprah! May you continue to find joy in all that you do, many blessings and much love from Canada
Roger,
From those early times, when we both had bylines in Rolling Stone, to your work in the Sun-Times and on television, through your invaluable collections of essays and reviews, through your writings today...I remain an admirer and fan. I remember spotting you at dinner once in New York City -- your party was in a private room, I think -- and bursting in to say Hi. Hello again, Roger, and love to you and your beautiful wife. Cheers from San Francisco, and Ben.
Ebert: Hey, how are you? We made it into the movies! You in "Almost Famous," and me...me...in "Godzilla"...
The interview with you in Esquire has meaning for more than those who are movie fans, which I am. Since 1994 I have had to deal with syringomyelia [the championship golfer Bobby Jones had this condition), a progressive spinal cord disease. I am now in a wheelchair and living with all the things my wife of 33 years call the "dailies": the indignities which spinal cord injuried people have to deal with every day. I sense that you have your own set of dailies, best kept between you, your wife and any other caregivers you have.
It helps me, and I would guess all persons with permanent physical problems, to have such a public personality show his vulnerabilities and yet so passionately continue his work. So keep the reviews coming, I always check out any movie I go see on the big screen with the Ebert review. Whether I agree or not does not matter. I will look for more things in a movie than I would have had I not read the Ebert review. It also enlivens the discussion with my wife, also a movie lover, about the films we have seen.
Well Mr. Ebert...Back in the old days my ex sister-in-law Nancy was one of your producers on PBS in Chicago and through her I had the fortune of briefly meeting both you and Mr. Siskel at a Sneak Previews party at a cabin out in the sticks. This I always remembered and when I saw you on TV the other night it prodded me to click you up, which lead me to those 2 great Esquire articles. You were up-front in giving the recent interview with you its due and I was unsurprised in seeing you rate your Lee Marvin piece as your favorite.
It is writing, film and music that distill it for us so, since I am a sucker for yesterday, to end I will fall back on Neil Young as reprised in the Olympic closing ceremony: "Long may you run."--Mark
I know it's late in the game, but I had to say how much you have always inspired me, as a writer, a blogger, and a human being. We never know where life will take us, but for some reason this blogging nonsense seems to take a lot of us in exciting and unexpected directions. I'm just glad to know that you've found the journey as fulfilling as I have - especially since you`re the one that started me along the path.
Thanks, Roger!
http://runesmith.blogspot.com/2010/03/roger-ebert-in-my-head.html
Mr Ebert,
Can I just say that you inspire me. I took your Esquire picture off the web and this tiny little thumbnail picture of you sits on my desktop. I never do this sort of thing. However, you represent something for me in these changing times. You represent courage, tenacity, and beauty. With the media and mainstream society deciding what's beautiful and what's not, I'm pretty sure with my fat thighs and big cyst sticking out of my neck I would NEVER be chosen to be on the show the Bachelorette (not that I'd want to). The virtue of your insides show up on your outsides. I'm glad you endured the surgeries and decided to not be a victim about the cards you were dealt. You have certainly inspired many, many a person. And, now you are showing the world that you can use tools to continue to do what you are passionate about. You have probably gained more than you have lost. Hey, wouldn't this make a great movie. You'd probably give it a big thumbs up!
I have been getting your reviews on Friday for several weeks now. This morning before I read them, I made myself coffee, and got myself completely comfortable in anticipation for the pleasure I would have while reading your reviews. I had recently seen a picture of you on TV with your strangely altered yet smiling face, and so with curiosity read this afternoon the Esquire interview and your response. Your reviews had left me completely unprepared for the revelations of Esquire piece. The humor, the originality, the personal honesty, and the sense of fairness that shine through in your reviews kick adversity in its butt! Thank you. It needs to be kicked!
Hi Roger,
I make facial prosthetics for a living - ears, noses, eyes - for people with cancer, burns, and sometimes born without a feature.
These prosthetics are only made of silicone rubber, and help on by glue or surgically implanted magnets. Since it is so impermanent, I wish I could do more.
The public doesn't typically treat people with facial differences all that well, and one thing I have been pursuing is getting more people with facial differences represented as normal, beautiful complex human beings - in the media. Maybe it will trickle down and change how society thinks.
The stigma of facial difference is something we can overcome as a society with positive exposure. I am sure you have seen your fair share of movies that did the opposite.
So I wanted to say thank you for showing your gorgeous face, close up, and sharing what a wonderful person you are. You have encouraged a lot of my patients, and of course, you have encouraged me.
ps. if you want to blog about facial differences in the movies, I can hook you up!
Hello Roger,
I think I've left this exact same comment before, but I find myself compelled to leave it again nonetheless. I don't know why; I'm just going to say what everyone else has said--that your writing has touched my life. But I still want you to know it. It's the Al-Anon in me, I guess--
I was born in 1969, and watching you and Gene in the eighties was so much part of my mental development as an eventual critic, I can't even express it. You realize of course that few of us in the parochial US had exposure to any other form of criticism--literary, art, film, any kind--except for At the Movies. I grew up in an extremely rural, isolated setting and we certainly didn't subscribe to the effing New Yorker--I didn't grow up reading DH Lawrence writing about Melville, or Randall Jarrell on Frost and Auden, you picking up what I'm throwing down?
So when I was seven or eight and couldn't sleep one night and wrote a review of Kate Jackson (?!), the only possible sources for my prose style were you and Gene, and/or MAYBE the TV Guide--or Reader's Digest?--but the pickings were slim. To be fair I usually agreed with Gene and not you, but that the two of you could discourse and disagree civilly but with so much brio and passion--I loved it. And I thought, this is what I want to do. I told my mother in the car one day: What is it, when people talk about books and movies and analyze the characters and symbols? Because that's what I want to do. She wasn't sure--she thought maybe I meant I wanted to be a psychologist.
In college I started reviewing movies. It was in many ways the job I was born to do and I think that's why I got fired from my last gig in 2006--it mattered too much to me, and I spent too long with each review, and in the end I couldn't meet deadlines and I got (deservedly) the boot. I'll say this, though: during the three years I had that dream job, I couldn't read an Ebert review before I wrote my own, or your voice/opinions would seep over into and stain my own irretrievably. I had to wait until after I'd filed my copy, and THEN I could read what you'd had to say--and wish I'd said it myself.
There's not much more to say. Just, don't ever not know what an impact your words and life have made, are making. Just today I was feeling despondent and suicidal and self-pitying: I'll never write again, no one will ever read what I write, I'll never get another writing job. Then a friend sent me this. And it has turned my day and brain right around, the way a good 12-step meeting can do. You keep on. You're doing fine. I'm putting your post-it note on my MacBook Pro right now, though.
Thank you. You are loved.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
Chris Jones' piece has some fine moments, but I *love* your response. Perfection.
I'm sure that you've heard this many times already, but I have to mention that I am struck by the courage it must take to discuss such intimate details about your life. It is both courageous and generous. You are incredibly honest and straightforward.
Your zest for life really speaks to me. Yes, you've had (and still have) some challenges, but you are still taking a big bite out of life. That's a creed that I live by, too. My life has some challenges but it is still so good in some ways that I shouldn't even complain. Right now I'm doing human rights and development work in West Africa. I love my work. I also love my surroundings. I live near the Atlantic Ocean. Some evenings when I sit on the beach for two hours just watching the enormous waves, I feel so fortunate and blessed. I mention this to illustrate that when I read this amazing blog or look at the photo of you surrounded by your books, I see that you are enjoying life and are in your element. Of course, the fact that you are partnered with a fabulous woman isn't too shabby, either.
Please continue to entertain and inspire us with with words.
Eagerly awaiting the next blog entry, book and/or video blog,
Kerry
Dear Roger,
I think you have attained a state of grace. I'm on the same path, but on a different route. I'll get there, though, someday.
Dear Roger,
In the end, all you can do is laugh at this thing we call life.
I never asked to exist, and the fact that I will have to someday die without my consent bothers me.
But, God, this life is sweet at times, when the sun shines into your room, when you see all the people you love right in front of you, when you can laugh at each other for being who you are.
You are given so many days in your life to exist - it is your job to make them something to remember.
Thank you for bringing joy and the meaning of life back to my husband. He was diagnosed with cancer in August & at the age of 79 had a stem cell transplant in November followed by a Christmas miracle of "complete remission". Since the ordeal he is trying to figure out who he is and what is life. Your reminder about bringing joy has changed him...
Mr. Ebert,
I just spent my Sunday morning first reading the paper (actual glorious newsprint, in my hands), then this article and your comments. Truly inspiring and the best article I've read in a long time. I live in Minneapolis now, but my heart is still in Chicago. I used to work in the Lake St. building and would find myself riding the elevator up with you at times -- you were then and still are nothing but gracious. And yes, the U Club was one of my favorite places too. Thank you, and thank you Chaz, for doing this interview. It has given me new inspiration to get off my duff and start writing again.
I just wanted to know if you and your wife went to the Oscars? I dont recall anyone saying anything about you ,or interviewing you.I've been a fan of yours for years,since I first saw or read your earlier column in the Sun-Times
Roger, Thanks for responding. But you are wrong, Mr. Ebert. I have 'Almost Famous.' You have like 73 credits at IMDB.com. Oh, yeah, and the Pulitzer. You did pretty OK. I got 3 regional Emmys for co-hosting the local telecast of the Chinese New Year Parade. I've got some catching up to do. Just saw you on Oprah (thanks, TiVo). you and Chaz are equally beautiful, and inspiring. It's hailing in as I write this. Where am I? Chicago? -- Cheers from Ben in SF. Dianne, my wife, loves you too. We both were steady fans of you & Gene from the 'Sneak Previews' days.
Ebert: Dear Ben Fong-Torres: In my eyes you were from the start and always have been famous, so please do not disillusion me at this late date.
I know the readers here. I promise you we will receive messages from all over saying, but, yes, you are famous!
You created rock journalism, for Dude's sake!
There is value in all things, and never loss without gain. You may have lost your voice, but your words are now louder than ever.
I find your perspective on the last days (as explained in Esquire) very refreshing. I was never a religious person, but that doesn't mean I live without purpose or meaning, and I think that when I am close to my end, I can find the same grace and gratitude myself. But moreso, to do it in my own words. What you've shared belongs to you, of course.
So, this is your story: the journal, the Esquire piece, the appearances, the festivals, all of it. I will read it as long as you keep writing, and more importantly, as long as you want to keep writing.
Mr. Ebert is one of the few film critics whose writings will be read long after he is gone. His writing is of *enduring value* -- and if you would like examples of this, I encourage you to read his "Great Movies" books. These writings will remain relevant and enriching as long as the movies they describe are viewed (and that will be a very long time).
Now, Mr. Ebert is giving us another gift of enduring value: courage. Thousands of people who live in suffocating isolation in their struggles with cancer and other illnesses can look at his example and see someone who is living a bold and meaningful life, someone who is not afraid to be public about his pain, someone who continues to enrich his world in the way he has for many years. This is not only an inspiration, it is an act of compassion.
Quite a few people who have responded to this article have shared their feeling about spirituality and God, and these thoughts are appreciated. I do not know if there is a being such as God -- but if there is, everything I know about God comes from the acts of loving and being loved. The reality of love is beyond dispute for those who have received it and those who have given it. If love proves to be something even greater (as I suspect it will) -- something worthy of the name of God -- so much the better. If not, then love itself is enough.
Thank you for all the many years of exceptional writing and thinking, Mr. Ebert! I believe that many of the words you have yet to write will be read by people who are not yet born as well as those of us who share the planet with you right now.
And thank you for your strength, courage, and compassion. I hope if I ever have to face a struggle such as yours, I hope I will find the grace to do it as you have done.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I am a Head and Neck Cancer survivor. I was diagnosed with Stage IVc squamous cell carcinoma in November 2008. I completed a regimen of chemo and radiation in early 2009 with a second round of radiation for spot that showed activity near my heart and lung in Nov 2009. After becoming involved in a local support group, I decided to start up a website to help promote knowledge and support to other cancer survivors.
(http://cancertalk.tv/)
Your ability to overcome the adversity of the treatments and adopt your talents to a written form are truly inspirational.
I would appreciate an opportunity to feature your story.
Thank you for your kind consideration.
Mr. Ebert,
I just began following on Twitter and, shortly after, began reading this blog and damn, I love your writing. I don't really have anything more insightful than that to say. Oh, except that I happen to like the Esquire photo. I prefer a person who is genuine, and this is what I see when I look at it. I appreciate that you tell of your struggle with looking in the mirror, and you don't try to feed us a line of optimistic bull. Not that I think you're a pessimist--just real. And I like it.
I was on a stationary bike when I felt tears instead of sweat. Esquire was rolled into a single column in my hand. I don't read Esquire; I am, after all, a woman. But on this particular day, I grabbed my husband's copy, raced out the door, wheeled through myPod, and hit the pedals.
They weren't pity or sadness tears on my face. They were friend tears. I was deeply moved by your miss. By your ache. For your dear friend. "Best Enemies" is a wonderful title. Though, you're wrong about one thing. No matter how miserable and hateful the characters might have been portrayed, we would know "how meaningless was the hate, how deep was the love." Because you can't fake proximity. You can't fake sharing a life.
There I was, sweating to the oldies, seated beside a 65-year-old man whose t-shirt read "I'd Rather Be Dumpster Diving" when my friend tears were chased with wisdom tears.
"To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts." That's it, right there. What a powerful observation, stated so simply. Thank you for being my mentor and for so generously putting your wisdom up for the taking.
My husband and I had the pleasure of seeing you live at Ohio State, on stage with Martin Scorsese, talking about his films, and that evening was one of the highlights of my life. (I'm a film addict.) Thanks for teaching me so much about movies!
Now I use movies in class (just short clips, and I buy all of them myself--they're not piloted) to teach law students about professional responsibility. Movies are powerful teaching tools.
Thanks for being out there, writing about what I love so much!
Roger,
I really don't think you look that bad. You don't look like you used to, but none of us does. I haven't had the time to read your whole blog on the Esquire piece, but what I did read, I enjoyed.
BTW, I write for living (I'm an lawyer) but you couldn't tell that from my comments!
Good luck and take care!
Dear Roger - Your photo is, IMHO, a way of saying the following: "You created me. You allowed THIS to happen to me. THIS is a bloody indictment of your unbelievable dictatorial dominance.
I say, hmm. I, too, dance with the Big C every day: kidney removed and ureter. New lesions in the bladder - chemo, on-going. New nodules in the liver, oncologist investigating.
But, I after 20 yrs a Methodist pastor - baptizing babies, blessing marriages, sending the dying on their way - converted to become a Catholic and a lowly Catholic school educator.
It isn't too late, sir. You aren't - you really aren't - such a big thing, regardless of the notoriety of your acquaintances. Ontology isn't based on who you know and who you know.. It is based on Who knows you. Best
Dear Roger,
Congratulations on all you have done recently to spread awareness of the technology of speech prosthesis for persons who cannot speak.
We are holding the 2010 Communication Enhancement Convocation next Saturday, March 20, 2010 at Michigan State University, East Lansing. Would you be able to connect with our celebration?
We are celebrating the 35th anniversary of the first practical use of a voice synthesizer.
On December 4, 1974, a group of us at the Artificial Language Laboratory at Michigan State University gathered as Donald Sherman, who has Moebius Syndrome, ordered a pizza using a talking computer.
Since then, the Artificial Language Lab has been one of the pioneering centers in the development of speech prosthesis for nonspeaking persons.
We work with individuals and school districts, hospitals, and rehab centers. We are currently a site for the ModelTalker project, creating personalized Text-To-Speech voices for persons at risk of losing their speech, such as persons with ALS. The ModelTalker system has been developed by Dr. Tim BUnnel and his group at Nemours and the University of Delaware.
We also work with systems for persons with visual impairment. We created Stevie Wonder's first talking computer and singing computer in 1975.
I hope you can contact me for further details about how you can connect with our celebration.
Yours,
John Bryson Eulenberg
Professor
Director, Artificial Language Laboratory
Dept. of Communicative Sciences and Disorders
Michigan State University
East Lansing, MI 48824
Did you feel a thing or hurt when your lower jaw feel off.
Theirs a sick part of me that wishes he was there; to witness the incident from a man
that understands film and acting; so that he could act on it.(weird isn't it, tell me about it)
Unlike the youtube some crazy fool showed me of some stupid young Arab from the
Middle-East (WARNING: could cause a heart attack) trying to impress his friends
gathered around near the sea; by jumping a cliff, and he did successfully, the second
time he wanted to impress the girls that sheered him the first time by jumping a
higher cliff.
Sadly he landed face first and crashed in to a rock, (remember that sequence in Lost
Highway; well that was his skull "accidentally") this guy had his face cracked like a
melon and the surreal thing about it (sorry, cross out surreal; I shouldn't associate such
a term with some stupid fu**, I grew up in the art's and Salvador Dali was my first
personal admirer that I idolized; years before his death) is that after they pulled him out,
doctors where like "their is still life in this body" and tryed to staple his face together, I
was like "are you for real; you should be thinking of how to take out the goo that's
malfunctioning his brain in the first place, not trying to staple it together.
Talk about extreme sports.
*Note:Not for the faint of heart, teenagers or pregnant woman,
this is not a snuff video; you've been warned.*
I dunno, Jeff Hendrix,
Those are strange things to say. I don't see where Roger has indicated anything like "You created me. You allowed THIS to happen to me. THIS is a bloody indictment of your unbelievable dictatorial dominance."
So then? Is this what the capital "G" god deserves to hear from you, because of your own current condition?
I don't think that turning to Catholicism is the appropriate apology for having believed in the wrong God. By the sound of your prayer, here, they're both the same rascal.
You're not the only case I've heard of where someone has reverted to Catholicism from Methodism. My father, in his thirties, had a bout with spinal meningitis that scared the hell out of him. I don't recall any Methodist ministers attending his bedside, but we did have Catholic Priests lurking around. When it was over, and he survived just fine, Sacred Heart Parish had one more donor to call upon. My old Dad paid for the green and gold paschal robes used on Easter and other High Masses.
You know, the same kind of robe that once festooned the high priests of Jupiter.
Eventually, Dad did the rightest thing he could do. He accepted that he was socially trapped in it, and rationalized that "people gotta believe in sum'p'n or they'll go crazy." At his funeral, Father Bundy expressed the opinion that he couldn't tell whether Bob was going to heaven or hell, but after all, he'd given the church money regularly.
I don't know how it would feel having been a sacerdote for the wrong God for two decades. Catholicism has an appeal to certain Protestants because after all, the organization is almost 1500 years older than theirs, and it represents an unbroken line of political squabbling; whereas there nothing keeps a Protestant congregation from mitosis, to the point that the latest One, Only, Holy, Universal, Apostolic and Exclusive Church contains maybe 2 or 3 people... and somehow that doesn't feel right.
Seems to me when the congregation gets down to one, that's a little closer to where things should be. People who must get together to believe the One True Thing (Plus Scientific Proof) are often crazy. The more completely they believe, the more completely crazy they can be.
But man, Jeff, if you absolutely must believe in a God, however venal a One True God he eventually proves to be, I can't imagine a better reason to hate this God than the prayer you've ascribed to Rodge's Esquire pic.
Yes, we are all dying in increments. It's only when we get older, or sick or have a close call that that realization begins to dawn. I'm relieved to see your picture and to see you on the Independent Spirit Awards. It's painful to know what you've had to endure, and at the same time it's a tremendous gift to get to know you better. I have followed you as a film critic for years. I have always loved to hear/read your reviews. Your depth as a human being is what makes them so compelling, and so to have this opportunity to know you more is so welcome. I'm very grateful.
You are an amazing, inspiring soul. I am 32 and grew up watching you every weekend. I still rely
I really enjoyed both the Esquire article and your post on it.
I've read your reviews for about 10 years, give or take. Critics come in and out of my bookmarks, but I've you and James B over at Reel Reviews on my list that whole time. I like being able to come and read your reviews and learn something about film or see something in the film I missed on my own. It's like the best part of university -- learning from other people.
I find your take is often more positive and less cynical than my own, and considering how many more films you've watched, that sort of amazes me. And tells me I should be more honest.
My grandfather had a lot of debilitating illnesses before he died last year. He was sick for almost 20 years. He'd lost his hearing in WWII (artillery). Neuropathy took sensation first from his ticklish feet, then his fine motor control (he was an engineer and built incredible machines from scratch) and finally his balance. He lost his vision within three days when a virus destroyed his retinas -- costing him his photography, his computer (he liked email) and his love of reading. Toward the end, he had terrible sores in his mouth that made eating painful. Despite his challenges, he had a fierce desire to live. My son and I visited him a week before he went into the hospital for the last time. He was still rowing a kilometre a day on the rowing machine in my grandparents' bedroom. When his doctors took him off intravenous and other supports seven weeks later, he lived nine days.
I think you learn a lot about people by how they cope with physical challenges. People like him and people like you remind the rest of us what's important and worth celebrating. And what we should suck up and get over.
It must get annoying to have people tell you weird personal stuff like this. But I guess that's the price of public courage.
I continue to follow your reviews and your blog.
Mr. Ebert:
In the midst of the Chris Jones article about you in the March 2010 issue of Esquire, he wrote a few words in a sentence that made me smile, then I reversed to the close-up photograph of your face on page 116. You have a permanent smile on your face, Mr. Ebert. I wonder how revolutionized the world would be if we walked around with smiles on our faces the majority of the time, not have them concealed behind cell phones and the tendency to walk with our eyes toward the ground?
Mr. Jones later wrote that you know you are dying. How do you know?
Lastly, let's now get the philosophical discussions out of the way and get to even more deeper discussions: I believe "Pulp Fiction" is the finest film of the decade of the 90's. What about you?
Ebert: I wish I did have a permanent smile. Am I smiling in that photo?
Hello, I'm a long-time reader, and a first-time commenter.
My first reaction to that full page image of you? Shock. Not because of what I was visually seeing, but because of the implications. I see a face that shows hurt. Anatomical hurt, a hurt I had never before related to you. Why would I? At no point has your writing deteriorated. You're still one of the sharpest writers on the planet. Beyond that, I've never seen any hurt in your writing. You're still positive, you still have your biting wit as always. Not only here, but in your published reviews. I thought about this for a while, and it hit me. I looked at the image again, this time ignoring my ingrained thoughts on normal human anatomy. Despite Mr. Jones wonderful article, I needed nothing other than that image to show me that you were still happy. I can see that joy on your face, I can place my hand over your entire jaw, and I can still see it in your eyes.
And then I read the article.
Coming into this, I didn't want to touch this article. I didn't want to read it. I was afraid I would be worried for you. I was afraid I would feel nothing but sympathy. In the end however, I say that I can't feel sympathy for you, because you don't need it. The article by Jones, your follow up, and the included images have shown me that. If anything, in the end I feel proud for you.
And I love your library.
Look closely Mr. Ebert, especially around your eyes. You're smiling. At least to me you are.
Roger,
Kia ora and greetings from New Zealand. I have been a fan of your reviews for many years and always check in with you before I recommend a movie to a small group of cancer patients here in NZ. Two of us formed the group in 2002 following our respective leukemia diagnoses. We now have 5 cancer sufferers and 3 with other chronic illnesses. We go to a movie each Wednesday (hence we are known as the Wednesday Loafers) preceded or followed by lunch and animated conversation. You have been a profound influence in all of this and we have followed your own health battle with great and empathetic interest.
We review each movie in 2 or 3 sentences using a 9-point scale and post the result on our Facebook page each week. We would be greatly honoured if you would agree to become one of our "friends" and honorary patron. Keep up your great work.
Kia kaha (Be strong).
With very best wishes,
Rob
I can't believe you got a comment from BEN FONG-TORRES. I will now die of comment envy.
I must admit the photo did shock and stun me, but probably because we are so used to having perfectly Photoshopped people on magazine covers that *reality* shocks and stuns us. I do believe you were smiling. And when I saw you take a (well deserved) bow at the Indepenent Spirit Awards, I *knew* you were smiling.
(If you ever want to know if someone is happy, don't look at their mouth - it's all in the eyes.)
And your voice? I hear your voice whenever I read your words, just like I hear my wife's or my friend's when I read theirs. It doesn't matter that you might never have said *that* string of words out loud. I have heard your voice enough in the past that sense memory means it will always be there to bring your writing to life. (What a wonderful gift that we often take for granted!)
cheers, my friend...
Ever since college I have relied on your discerning reviews to guide me through the maze of good and bad films. I rarely, if ever, disagree with your opinion, something that never ceases to amaze me. I stood next to you while you were filming a panel at Telluride in 1999, and I have never forgiven myself for not daring to speak to you. I wish we had film critics of your caliber here in Norway.
Both Chris' article and your blog were a wonderful read. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!
God bless.
Dear Mr. Ebert,
I have been a great admirer of your work for years. I used to watch you and Mr. Siskel on television and most of the time I identified with your positions, even as I empathized with your passion for film.
We were living in Charlottesville, Virginia a good ten years or more ago (I have a terrible memory in terms of years) when you were there with Arthur Penn and Rip Torn to introduce a certain Warren Beaty film that Penn had done early in his career. I was so excited that you were coming to the our town. I was a single mom back then without a lot of money. I believe I had just enough credit left on my credit card to pay the fee to come and bring my son with me to see you at the event. My son, Ed was something like twelve or something at the time (Maybe younger. As I say, I am terrible about time.) and it actually was a little long for him to sit through. But he thanks me now that I gave him the opportunity to see you that evening long ago. I loved your work then and I wanted to share what I thought would be a special experience. I guess I hoped that he would see in you what I did and have the reverence for film as an art. As it turned out, over time Ed has done me one better. For he turned out to be an even bigger fan of yours than I am. He loves to read your books of criticism and it is he who introduced me to your blog. Being a middle-school teacher at a South Bronx school, I do not have much leisure time. However, this is my Spring break so I finally took time to read your journal. I am so glad. It was so great to hear your unique and compelling voice once more.
You have spread so much joy with your work. I will always be so grateful that I indulged myself to share your presentation with my son. Ultimately it gave him something profoundly meaningful,which is what I hoped for.
I would like to send my love and appreciation to you and your terrific wife, Chaz. Isn't love the greatest thing?
Warmest regards,
Susan Murren-Azad
Mr. Ebert,I have long respected your opinions on movies. If you like it, I probably will also. If you think it is crap, it probably is. I miss seeing you on TV in my area though.
I hope to get to the Film Fest in Urbana this year. I hope you continue to review films for many years to come. You're the best.
(after seeing how many comments there are here, I really doubt if you get to this one, but what the heck).
Hey Roger.
Per the COMCAST mention, and I'm sure someone has said this, but you should consider a backup internet option like a 3G card from verizon, which I use, or a wireless card from Clear, whose network now covers Chicago.
http://www.verizonwireless.com/b2c/mobilebroadband/
http://www.clear.com/callnow/index/philly?s_kwcid=TC|9630|clear%203g||S||5219617089
I was just scrolling down to point out the amazing love that just shines in Chaz's face when she looks at you, when I find that Ernie said it better than I could. The photo where she's in yellow just made my eyes well up. Of course, you've probably noticed it a time or two ;)
Thank you for this blog. I have my infant son asleep on my chest, I'm snuggled in my jammies and grateful to have a free 30 minutes to 2 hours (hard to say when they're this young) to dive through your archives here. It's so very kind of you to share this with all of us.
Thank you for the beautiful Esquire article, thank you Roger Ebert for being your uncensored self, thank you for helping me remember we're all dying in increments.
I did cry, not with pity but for the beauty and intimacy of the portrait Chris Jones painted of a man who's keen intelligence and incredible warmth and openness we've all been so lucky to share.
Reminds me of the line from 'Down By Law', "It's a sad and beautiful world."
Thank you one more time.
Beautiful article about a beautiful person.
Thank you.
Your new face is not imperfect.
It is the face of a bird deity from a place that never forgot us, though we forgot it.
Except when you, and a few others, have the secular grace to remind us of it.
Life and death are two facets of the same gem. My most fervent hope for humanity is that we cease to fear death. You are doing your part in that evolution, Mr. Ebert. You are already flying in all possible worlds. It has been a long privilege to be touched by your words.
Thank you thank you thank you for your response to the Esquire article. After reading the article, I was actually petrified that you were taking your last breath any day now. Your clarification gives me great relief.
I don't pity you one bit...I feel sorry for myself! I have watched At the Movies from the very beginning and always found that we thought so much alike (sorry Gene - you're just wrong!) I could and can always count on your review to lead me to a movie I know I will like. In recent years I have discovered what an incredibly enlightened and entertaining author you are - I laugh out loud at your written reviews and actually like them even more than the show for their depth and humor.
...and then the blog. Pure poetry. I never knew we had even more in common than theatrical tastes such as atheism, liberlism, and who knows what else. Thank you so much for your writing and please keep your words flowing. I appreciate them and value your presence more than you know. I pity me for the day you decide to retire.
With great admiration,
Kelly
Hi
You are brave. I admire your honesty and your ability to be so forward with your life. Thank you for doing the interview with Esquire and showing that a facade isn't something we should hang on to.
I pray you have a great day.
Thanks
I’m also a webmaster
First off, I probably read more of your work now than I ever did, partly because it's more accessible but mostly because you write in an entertaining and lucid manner that makes me want to read onwards.
Second, as regards to your visage, let's be honest: you look different. But we all get used to change and the more we see of the "new you" the more it seems "normal". There is at first a little lack of comprehension as to what exactly is going on with your jaw, but we do live in a time when people are learning to see the human side of physical difference (thank you, TLC) and it's more a question of curiosity. Ironically, when I saw that photo of you pre-cancer (it's been a long time since I saw a picture of the "old you"), my first impression was "holy crap, that guy had a wide-ass jaw." So it all evens out, I guess.
I did prefer your voice to your compatriots' however. I'll miss that tone.
Pretty amazing, he takes a savage beat down from the game we call life and he gets back up swinging, better than ever. Don't see that too often.
As you say so succinctly, (like the children's book, Miss Rumphius), life is about making the world a bit more joyous, for ourselves and others. The ravages of illness revealed the essence of this truth to you. And so, I will take your revelation and try to do my part.
Thank goodness for full disclosure!
I have been scouring your blog tonight after stumbling upon "Nil by Mouth". What a fascinating, visceral account. I realized that I hadn't often tried to imagine tastes the way I often heard songs in my head or could visualize things or even movements. (Yet I was surprised by how well I could do it.)
Like you said, we live in our heads. And writing creates such rich worlds. Reading good writing is as enjoyable to the senses as the feel of silk on skin or birdsong in the morning... It is a pleasure to read you and to hear you and to be brought into your world.
Roger: I concur with most of your thoughts about the Esquire article. It was moving and inspiring and made me think frequently about my younger brother who is still recovering from double lung transplant surgery.
One of the things I found moving is that full-page photo. Look again, and there actually IS something lovely in it: Your eyes are intensely alive. You're living through some health challenges, but your eyes scream out that you ARE living. And it's lovely to see.