Roger, how strange — I was just watching Eyes Without a Face tonight. I don't think I'd want a transplant, either, if I were in your situation. As far as the prosthesis goes, I have to say it looks great! But honestly, people will be watching your show for you — not to gawk. Well, not after the first few episodes, anyway — this is America, after all. Either way, good luck — I hope to be able to watch it soon.

You're pretty danged adorable any way you slice it.

I hear your voice very day. I remember what it sounds like, and the way you write, every word comes through to me in your Ebert voice. Good luck with whatever you decide to do. I think you're better than ever.

I know you didn't like Fight Club, but to quote it, "Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart..." would be apt.

Face it, no pun intended, it wasn't exactly your looks that got you this far. And I am sure it wasn't (entirely) your looks that Chaz fell in love with.

A man is more than the summation of his parts. Of course, you already know this.

Best of luck to you and your family on your new TV show!

I think this is my favorite thing you have ever written. I am in tears and in awe. Thank you for continuing to communicate with us. Amazing how your voice now is louder than it's ever been.

Roger,

A fine and brave piece of writing. I follow you on
Twitter, and your work is as incisive and entertaining as ever it was.

And that's all that matters.

You, sir, are an inspiration not only as a professional (I'm also a film critic who had the honor of being linked to by you), but as a human being.

And paragraphs such as this

"How did I know I'm in my head? How do any of us know? That's where my brain lives, and where my eyes sit. I am not in my chest, my hand, or my foot. I live in here, and operate all the rest like Iron Man. And in here, I still imagine the same face, no matter what you see."

are the only evidence we need to know that, above all, you're a master with words. As usual, you are able to express yourself with honesty, elegance and clarity at the same time your words entertain, capture and move us.

You said Altman's new heart gave him a decade and, in turn, gave us the gift of more Altman films. So I must say that even if you lost part of your face, I thank your surgeons for giving us the opportunity of enjoying your words once again.

And that I hope we'll be able to do so for a long, long time.

I must say, the prosthesis looks fantastic.

Very cool Mr. Ebert. Isn't the intersection of science, art and technology such a marvelous thing?

Frankly, the prosthesis doesn't make a difference to me. But I know it makes a difference to you.

It looks very natural, from both afar and close in. Only upon enlarged photo can I tell a slight flesh tone difference, but that can be easily dealt with makeup.

TV audiences may have a short attention span, but hopefully not a short empathy span. Keep in mind many of them will come from your website/blog readers and will have seen the Esquire article, and likely will have already made peace with your looks.

All the same, congratulations on the progress. I'm sincerely happy for you.

Reading your blog I feel like I'm walking along with you through your stream of consciousness. It is upbeat and optimistic and I'm happy for you.

I'm sure while you were going through each step along the way there were terrifying moments and many difficult decisions. We live through so much--our resolve tested to the extreme--and come out stronger, eh?

It's probably annoying to you that through your blog you elicit compliments like "you're so courageous," or "you're so strong," or "thanks for your honesty," but I'll say it anyway: I LOVE YOUR FACE! Then and now. I'm sure many will agree because of who you are, how you connect with people...

Anyway, I don't expect you to make this comment public, but I felt like sharing

People with no self knowledge make me uncomfortable and sad. There's something tragic in the thought of someone going an entire lifetime not realizing what may be clear to everyone else. You, on the other hand, have tremendous self-knowledge and a gift for articulating it. You're someone who's very comfortable in his own skin, no matter what shape that skin is in. That's a blessing that, again, people spend lifetimes trying to attain. Congrats on another wonderful piece.

Maybe I'm crazy, but it looks like they threw in a little Gene Siskel to the mix. You look great, and with or without the prosthesis, you have the eyes of a contented man.

Thanks for making the world a better place.

Hi Roger

I can't see me getting a face transplant either. I can think of nothing more disorienting than looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger's face,

But listen, your face is beautiful, as are the faces of many many disfigured and disabled people. I recently did business with an absolutely beautiful woman whose face was almost entirely covered by a deep purple birthmark. The colour of the birthmark turned her eyes the most incredible shade of green you have ever seen but I didn't tell her that I thought so.

You may be the only disfigured person in the world who could get an international TV show running like this. I would love to see you come as you are and let world get used to the fact that people come in all shapes colours and textures.

Christine

PS: I'm worried now - can I say disfigured? Is that PC?

Ebert: Okay with me. I am disfigured, after all. It wouldn't make much difference to me if you called me "differently figured."

As a fellow cancer (and radiation) survivor, reading your tweets is an inspiration.

Cancer takes so many things away, but the process of survival can also knock some sense into us and teach us what really matters.

BTW, I think you look great either way, but kudos to the artists for a realistic job. I originally thought your image had been photoshopped.

I like your face the way it is; reminds me of a wise-cracking, jolly grandpa. I'm glad you've decided to keep it as is, because it makes me smile (I have a more selfish investment in this) :)

Well, one thing I definitely appreciate is that you do show yourself in front of cameras. It brings a bit of humanity back into the plasticated world of pop culture.

Roger,

I was born with Crouzon Syndrome. Almost everything I have ever read about living with a facial difference has been useless to me. Not necessarily useless in general—I'm sure a lot of it has been useful to other people—but useless to me. Your writing has been the exception, so I've forwarded it around to people at every opportunity.

I think spending your adult life writing about film has, maybe, made you more aware of what faces are and what they represent than most people can be. It's really refreshing to read this stuff, and I'm very glad that you write it.

Ebert: Bergman said the cinema is about the human face. When I was young, I simply saw "movie stars." Forty-two years later, when I see Michael Caine as an old man, I remember interviewing him soon after he made "Alfie." I've met him many more times than most movie stars. I peer at his face and love it.

One day a thought came into my head and I tweeted it without perhaps appreciating it enough:

Everyone is beautiful when they look at you with love in their eyes.

"...For some time after taking that 'final photo' of myself, I avoided looking in mirrors. I knew the first operation had gotten the cancer but the reconstruction had failed. I vaguely knew what I must look like, but I didn't want to know..."

Goodness, for someone who lost his ability to speak through those many surgeries, your voice has never been more powerful or touching. Given the quality of comments that frequent this Journal, I am often hesitant to participate if all I have to offer is kudos. After all, surely you don't need my encouragement. But I can't help myself this time. Just another beautiful piece of writing. And I want to thank you for it.

"...I wrote, therefore I lived..."

Indeed.

I know there must be several movies featuring (or otherwise revolving around) the prospect of "reconfiguring" a disfigured face, and my question is whether you've come to see Vanilla Sky, in particular, with any new insights? If so, would you care to share some? . . .

Roger, one learns how to be a better human being around you and strives to live up to your ideals. Whatever the shape of your face, once people come into contact with you, what they feel is your spirit which radiates benevolence and good humouredness and were it that you were neither benevolent nor good humoured, one could see beauty in that too, it'd just be harder to spot.

As things stand, little old me thinks that you are even more beautiful now, your spirit having been enriched and uplifted from a harrowing experience which could defeat the best of us. If half of us could be half as serene as you are and the other half simply stoical, why we'd have paradise on earth!

Thanks for everything.

Indian Idiot (H.W.)

When you compose a piece such as this, it reminds me of why I admire you despite our many political and theological differences.

Courageous and inspiring.

Earlier today I was so annoyed with something you said. But tonight I hardly care (maybe a little still).

Keep doing what your doing. I'll keep following.

After meeting you at Ebertfest and watching you on stage, it's pretty clear that you say more with body language than most people can with words.

Also, is there a room in your house that doesn't have bookshelves somewhere?

The chin looks great, by the way.

At first, I thought the last photo was taken before the surgery. Few minutes later, from Grace's comment, I realized it was the result and was very surprised. It still looks like the photo with a little awkward photoshop treatment, I'm sure the prosthesis will make difference and will be helpful a lot for your show.

Your face is yours, and I and others accept your face just the way it is now. I have to confess that sometimes your chin steals the show in my eyes just like it will do in front of TV camera, but it does not make any difference to me.

The prosthesis looks very good, an admirable recreation, and good to see such a thing available when it helps to make things easier. Your fans didn't need to see any cosmetic adjustments (I think, to us, you're in your voice much more than in your face), but I'm glad you're being offered an option; after your ordeal, you deserve at least that much. Congrats.

In the end it'll be up to you whether you should go for it or not. My immediate concern would be the therapy involved. My immediate concern would be whether your age and your ongoing treatment for your previous cancer diagnosis (if you are receiving any such medication) would further hamper you from doing what you love more than anything else. Is that worth the risk? That's a question I can never answer because I'm not in your shoes.

But another side of me honestly misses your speaking persona. I was fortunate to have met you and to have shared those precious exchanges that we had. I couldn't help but think that if I had the chance to meet you just a few years before, what great ideas we could have exchanged. I sometimes feel guilty and selfish for thinking so. I'm sorry if it is.

Of course, rest assured, as one who knows you, I'll cherish you in whatever form you take.

You raise so many fascinating questions I haven't thought about from this angle. What is a person? What makes a person the person they are? How much physical--not only mental--similarity do we need to be the person we are. We always think it is our mind that makes us the same person. But in truth, our face plays a significant role in that. I'd never thought of that. We have the narrative of our life and our history--but that's all attached to the face we have, as you describe.

How do any of us know we're in our head? In the context of your essay, this is an amazing question.

It's also fairly incredible to read this and think about how people are constantly transforming their faces for cosmetic reasons--and particularly to deny the simple reality of aging. Many people can't even face that basic truth of human life. Reading this makes me think, in part, because their mental image of their face changes. It can be startling to look at a picture of yourself as aging transforms you. It's as if people, in the quest to match their false mental image, will go to all kinds of bizarre surgical methods in order to make the body fit it. But maybe they should just read this essay instead.

You are willing to face a truth about your physical transformation head on. One malady of American society is that people don't like the truth if it is unpleasant or challenging or difficult. People wrap themselves in comforting lies. And you aren't doing that. I think when people say that's courageous--and that you are courageous--they are right. But it's a courage that more people could use. When faced with something that is unavoidably true, embrace it. Everyone could use a bit more of that in this strange age of dodging reality.

Ebert: There was a recent story that casting directors are now rejecting many actors with plastic surgery. As Studs Terkel liked to say, "I've earned every wrinkle." I give you one of my favorite faces:

http://j.mp/c5H3DX

Thank you for your blunt and forthcoming blog posts about your appearances and your illnesses. They have done much to help me as I've been dealing with my own uncle's cancer, especially in helping me to see things from his point of view. While I know you are an avid reader and have probably already read this, I thought I would point you and your readers to Lucy Grealey's Autobiography of a Face, which explores what she went through in trying to construct a face, both for practical and aesthetic purposes. Once again, thank you for... well, just being you, being out there and visible.

What constitutes "Me"?

Rather a mirror-shy person, I wouldn't tamper with myself except to prolong my life or increase the productivity, since I believe the later phases of life to be more important in terms of possibilities of contribution to others. "Appearance" is the totality of the outward projection of ones life force, since nice looking people are often not attractive.

Hi again, Roger.

You continue to live one of the most intersting lives I know of.

Mr Ebert, you have been and are more than ever a great source of inspiration.

This piece proves it once again and I second Lisa Ryan's comment above on hearing your voice whenever I read your columns, and also your comment on Robert Altman and the great benefit transplantation is for society.

I think you look great. I also think what we look like is about .333333333 of who we are. My son has Autism and I sometimes wish there was an outward sign of it, because I think then people might be nicer if he is having a hard time out in public. I wish you lots of luck!

Wonder if your birthday twin knew he was forecasting your future?

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sujz6DwEnx4

I've never doubted your greatness as a writer, but the line "This was a rare case where 2D would not have been preferable" is what sealed it for me - not even a subject as sensitive as your own facial disfigurement is off limits for taking shots at 3D films! what's the matter...couldn't think of a way to work a video game reference in while you were at it? thanks for sharing as always!
ps - damn what the tv audience thinks it wants. what better example to prove the importance of intelligence and personal depth over looks than putting your mug in their face every week?

Transplant patients have to take drugs for the rest of their lives that suppress their immune systems, and unfortunately this sometimes results in a recurrence of any cancer the patient previously had. It's a heck of a risk to take just to look normal.

Your voice has always been persuasive, poetic, and consistently compassionate, Mr. Ebert.

This journal entry, for me, represents such a degree of self-reflective/other-reflective thinking, that I want to share it with my university students. It screams and whispers.

I am a scholar of (among other eclectic things) COUNTERFACTUAL THINKING; in fact, have published a theory, Decisional Regret Theory, about how we are constantly seduced into the worlds of what-if and if-only possibilities circling the decisions we have already made—together with those that face us still. Your thoughts are a garden of specifics on how that works at a personal level.

Low bow of appreciation,
and showers of iridescent San Francisco morning fog at you.

Dr. SunWolf (who occasionally twitters as @wabisabiwhisper and @the social brain)

Ebert: So you're @wabisabiwhisper!

Yes, I know people who drive themselves crazy with what-ifs. Sometimes you have to bite the bullet. Life doesn't have an instant rewind.

Mr. Ebert:

Though you frame it in more or less subjective terms--and why not: it's your face, n'est pas?--, it seems to me that you are making an ethical argument against the use of certain medical advances.

In his book In the Shadow of Progress: Being Human in the Age of Technology, Eric Cohen directs our attention to what I will paraphrase as "the essential mystery of the human person" and argues that in some situations, it is better to remain "human" and resign ourselves to experiencing both the positive and the negative consequences of that humanity than to forsake it in the name of scientific progress.

It is a very short book (under two hundred pages) and well worth reading. Consider this a kind of recommendation.

Roger,

I have enjoyed your show and your columns since I was a kid. And even though you can't speak now, when I read your words I still hear your voice in my head, just like I did when I was a kid. Your voice has helped me to better understand the world by your thoughts and opinions on movies, politics, etc. Even though I will never meet you, I feel like I have known you all these years.

Roger, I have watched and read you my entire adult life, I look forward to Thursday's and Friday's not for the end of the week, but to read your reviews, which are always in your voice in my head, and will always be.

These days children look at me frankly, with natural curiosity. I smile and wave, and they often smile and wave back.

The children are probably just wondering what you are smiling about all the time. The prosthesis does make an improvement in your appearance, but frankly, even without it you weren't that hard to look at. There are worse "disfigurements" out there, much worse. And anyway, beauty is only skin deep (okay, a little muscle and bone probably is involved).

I have to admit though, that last photo before the surgery is the best picture you ever took - you look like a weary Roman Senator back from the Civil Wars.

Roger, I am in AWE...of your writing, of your courage, of your life in general. Thank you for sharing your gifts with us.

That looks pretty awesome, Roger. But I'm not bothered by your face without the prosthesis. Part of that may be because I think your eyes have always carried a great deal of your personality. And, also, your default expression without the prosthesis is an amiable one. Best of luck either way. It's mighty nice to be able to touch base with you.

You are brave to decide against more surgeries. They all have their risks, so why risk it if you are as comfortable in your skin as you seem to be?

Your loyal fans know your voice and, as others have mentioned, we still hear it through your written word.

I would wish for you that you could again enjoy the taste of escargot and buttered scones (not necessarily together), but we'd watch you with or without the prosthesis. Which looks great, by the way.

Ebert: Let's say I had the surgery and it worked fine. It would still take months, maybe years. Think of all the daily life I would miss. Time with Chaz and family and friends. Walks in the park. The movies I would miss. Think of still more time in hospitals. I was treated wonderfully by hospitals, but the thought of returning to that regime frightens me. And Chaz going back to the existence she had when she was home alone and had to commute to my sick bed. Right now my life is working. If it works, don't fix it.

Roger ebert the more I see your picture the less I see of what is and see you. As with everyone after awhile you don't see what is there you see the person. Anyway I wish for you any decission you make and I hope you the best. As you say you still have a beautiful mind which is really you not your outward shell. keep on keeping on! I enjoy all your comments.

Strange to say this to a man who's likely 20+ years older than me but here it is nonetheless. I'm extremely proud of you. I'm also grateful for your seemingly endless inner strength. As someone who struggles with his own body image issues (only because I'm an insecure fatty), your writing has given me great perspective about my own demons and baggage.

I grew up watching you. Now, as a man, as a husband, and father--I find myself listening to you as if you were family. (And all this despite the fact that you didn't stop to say hello to me one time on campus at The University of Colorado, Boulder. You are FINALLY forgiven.)

Keep your face. It goes nicely with your mind and heart, both of which seem stronger than ever.

Ebert: I thought I had said hello to every last person in Boulder, but wouldn't you know I snubbed Ed!

Before you looked normal. Now you’re face glows and your eyes shine. And you have a great smile. Maybe it’s because of everything you have been through and your appreciation of the good things you still have.

This reminds me of the film Open Your Eyes, and a young man with not enough soul to play the hand he was dealt. I hope there are young people reading your journal. I just got a rather heartbreaking press release about young people who have won a Spirit of Community Award. Meghan Johnson, 19, has had 26 surgeries to correct a facial disorder: "The kids made me feel worthless and I was so lonely. So when I saw a video about street people, I could feel their loneliness too." I think you were very lucky to have this happen to you after you had gained the profound wisdom to know that it's what's inside that counts the most. Thank goodness, Ms. Johnson was able to make hay out of her difference and help others the way you do.

Roger,

What an inspiration! I particularly liked your account of how children react when seeing you. My two sons, as you described, frankly regard someone who is different from them. They don't judge, just observe. If only they could meet you.

Cheers! Garrett

Hi Roger, its funny, I saw you on Oprah and in Esquire. I was able to accept your new appearance easily. In fact your facebook pic is starting to look foreign to me hehe. Looking forward to the new show, hope we can get it in Norway. I've been a fan since the 80s and love depth of your reviews.

That's remarkable - the prosthesis. Perhaps it is comforting to have it, even if you use it rarely. I'm thinking that you might use it less than you expect to. A face transplant - not for looks, but for eating and talking... that might be tempting.

Although I loved watching "Siskel & Ebert" every weekend, what I treasured most was your written reviews. As a teenager, because this was prior to the internet and I was too impatient to wait for your annual compilation of reviews to be published each year, I had a mail subscription to the Sun-Times.

In Orlando in the early 1980s, each day after school I would check the mailbox. They did not arrive daily. Several days would go by without one and then three would be stuffed inside, smelling old already from their journey south and the Florida heat. But what joy I felt reading every word!

Back then, you could not get many foreign or independent films at the local VHS rental shops. Netflix did not exist. And we had only one "art house" theater in town. As soon as I turned 16, I could drive my VW there and experience a larger world every week or two when they'd change films. But most never came to town and I had to be satisfied with your reviews.

I don't think it's overreaching to say I learned much about life and myself through your writings. You have never merely reported the plotline. You stepped back and thoughtfully offered commentary about ideas and the big issues in life... "Things that start with capital letters," which is a phrase I have used for decades, and I believe I cribbed from you. I used to marvel at your ability to continually pull more from yourself over the years. Who wouldn't simply run out of words? Now, as a woman turning 42 in a few weeks, I understand. The real question is how do you stop the flow? The experiences of life, and everything I seek in film, literature, my ongoing exhausting attempts to understand humankind in this bizarre age... my mind never stops, and I do not have your talent. So I can see why you blog, and no matter the topic, I hear your voice loud and clear in your words as I always have. Written words...and they affect me as if we were huddled over coffees and you said them in person.

If you change your mind and have the transplant, good luck and I wish you the best. But I don't think you need it. You are more present and engaged than anyone I know, and all of that comes from within. Thank you for all you have given, and I look forward to many more years of your insight, humor, and depth.

Ebert: I can't begin to say how moved I am by the thought of that young girl in Orlando.

I want to echo what other people have said by saying we would watch your show no matter how your face looked. I personally hope you do make frequent appearances on your show. I sometimes watch Judge Judy on TV and she often says, "They don't keep me here because I'm gorgeous, they keep me here because I'm smart." Not only do I think you're beloved for your intelligence, but for your unique passion and love for movies and more importantly for people. That's your face, and one I would love to see on your new show.

Roger! What a wonderful build-up. When I scrolled down to the final photo, I smiled for joy. It looks marvelous, very like your old self.

That said, I grew accustomed to your post-op face after the first photo in Esquire, and have come to cherish that image of you just as much.

We all have to face the face, to quote Mr. Townshend. And not to forget Sir Paul, your face is quite brave, as well.

Either way you choose, you'll be accepted for your words AND your appearance. I salute you.

In a way, you've been given a gift. Having already become content with your appearance, you're exploring prosthetics with a curiosity (or dispassion?) most people wouldn't be able to bring to the table. It's an unusual circumstance, and one that seems to offer more potential for joy than disappointment. Wonderful!

Rog,
When was the last photo taken?
Unlike other appearances, your chin doesn't appear to be drooping as much. If the prosthetic looks anything like that, I think it looks pretty good.

In any event, as I'm sure you already know, we all love you for your mind. I'm in my late 20's, and you are the first public figure in my lifetime that I have seen bravely get in front of his disability, own it, and pretty much say to the world "like it or lump it." Hopefully others will follow suit. As you once said (paraphrasing here) our society spends too much time hiding disease, death etc.

Ebert: The last photo was taken on May 5.

Roger,

I grew up watching you on TV. The first I heard about the extent of your surgeries and the loss of your lower jaw was in that interview from Esquire. The first moment I saw the photo I was surprised. You looked different. The second moment it was your eyes: life, love, passion, sincerity, beauty -- yes beauty, all expressed articulately with your eyes.

I saw the photo with Oprah, so I found the YouTube video of her interview with you and Chaz. It was the same. A brief moment to acknowledge something different, your eyes and then I was keen to listen to what you had to say. Next I'd like to hear you talk about movies.

As for your new TV show. Given what your last blog entry I'm hoping it involves the new reviewers you've been finding through the web. It would be nice to validate the best of the Internet by recognizing them through television.

Be well Roger. I'm looking forward to reading your summer reviews. The season is approaching.

Steven :-)

Mr. Ebert, this piece just warmed my heart, as all of your personal blogs do. Your outlook on life, introspection, and honest lucidity (or lucid honesty?) are a real inspiration to me. I've recently become afflicted with a sort of crippling disease, and it's easy to lose hope. Reading this blog helped me see another, brighter perspective. I've been following your reviews religiously for over six years now, and in that time, whether in the theatre or on DVD, there has not been a single movie that I have seen for which I have not read your review. Though, I always read them after I see the film. I like to view it, think about it for myself, and then get your take on it. It goes without saying that your reviews have always been great, but since this blog started, your writing seems to exponentially better, and a flat out joy to read. Yes, this is yet another comment praising your work, and what it means to yet another fan, but I just want you to know how much your work means to me personally, and fans all across the globe. Thank you so much, Mr. Ebert.

Dear Roger;

You...Look...Marvelous! (Thanks Fernando)

I understand why you are making the choices you describe but isn't is exciting what medical science is developing? I can imagine some young wounded veterans taking advantage of these breakthroughs.

As long as we have your writing everything else is frosting on the cake. Who doesn't like frosting?

Seriously, you are obviously not the only person struggling with difficult medical issues. Sharing your life with all of us is raising our consciousness. There is bravery in it.

Ebert: Always remember, my friends, it is better to feel good than to look good.

What superb feeling, reasoning and writing, as -- but there's really no such thing as "as usual" for one in his throes of feeling, reasoning and writing, is there.

Yeah, the fitting looks good and your puss needs to be on screen to boost the show, huh? I'd miss not seeing you. And it's true enough, in person ... well it's like you said about the little kids. You look warm and happy and friendly. Personally I never did care for your unsmiling publicity shots. They weren't the "Rodge" and "Roger" I'd see Gene trying to handle every week. Thinking of you always made me smile, as one on the verge of a punchline.

Got a little "control group" of characters observed back in Tucson -- which has a larger than ordinary proportion of people disabled, owing to its early days as a curing place for consumptives.

There was this god-awful sorry looking young fella who was in fact a babe magnet. They banned him from the coffeeshop for having sex with cute girls in the restroom... however, he was banned in high admiration. On the other hand, there was a man who'd accidentally shot his own face off, like the Spanish farmer, but patched up minimally. A roughly oval sphere, 3 holes, one for each eye and a lipless mouth.

Nobody liked him at all. "He was a total a-hole before he had the accident," my friend Junkiepants told me. If one can said to be a totally unrepentant a-hole, he certainly had the face for it.

(I miss Junkiepants. YouTube her. Old hangout.)

Wow, that's pretty cool. They did a great job!

Surely, with all of these medical advancements, there would be some way to develop a prosthesis that would make use of, rather than cover up, your own loose skin. As I understand it, you still have your skin and tongue but no jaw. Isn't there some way to create a fake jaw that can be fixed to work with what you still have? Like a jaw-bone denture.

I don't say this because I think you need to improve your appearance at all, because I think you look fine and I so very much respect your resolve to "get on with life". But despite the fact that you've repeatedly said you don't miss eating and drinking and talking, I nonetheless wish you could have those things back. There simply must be a way that does not involve risky surgery.

Obviously you're keeping up-to-date with the latest scientific developments in these areas. Does this mean you may be open to alternative options that may give you at least some ability to speak and eat?

In any case, I will risk sounding monotonous by saying I am so very thankful for your written words and that you've chosen to give so much of yourself to us. It is a true joy to read every one of your entries.

I distinctly remember as a kid in the 1990s how, every time someone wanted to put you down, they'd make a crude fat joke. For example, I still remember an episode of the cartoon show Animaniacs where, for some obscure reason or another, they decided to tear into you and Gene Siskel (imaginatively renamed Codger Eggbert and Lene Hisskill). How did they target you? If I remember right, by having you chug down a gargantuan vat of popcorn coated in pure lard. Subtle, no?

That was the one that stuck in my mind, but it seemed pretty much inevitable that any remarks about Ebert that were less than complimentary would involve mentioning how you were really fat. In popular culture, being fat made you fair game for ridicule. The reason this struck me in particular was because I was really fat at that time. As a result, I had a lot of issues with self-esteem and ended up being bullied a lot at school. It was somewhat inspiring for me to see you standing up there taking so many cheap shots for your appearance and apparently not even flinching, certainly being no less productive for the abuse.

I've since lost the weight, and so have you. But the lesson remains: whatever your appearance, whatever people say or think about it, the only person who can decide whether it will have an effect on you is you. I think you've made the right decision not to worry too much about your jaw.

Though I'd really miss a good hamburger in your position.

"Transplant patients have to take drugs for the rest of their lives that suppress their immune systems, and unfortunately this sometimes results in a recurrence of any cancer the patient previously had. It's a heck of a risk to take just to look normal."

This quote and Roger's comment that he's afraid of how lengthy and horrible the recuperation process could be, brings it up the three excellent reasons not to have it, rather than the single one I managed to think of in my first reply.

To me, it isn't about looks, but function, and it's difficult to imagine anything being worth giving up that much functionality, but 'might bring the cancer back' manages to meet the standard nicely.

Ebert: Yeah, I believe I should quit while I'm ahead.

Roger, I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that to those of us who enjoy your work, the most important words in this article are these: "And in fact the surgery was a great success, because I appear to be cancer-free."

This entry is probably the best thing I've read online in weeks. It was deeply affecting. And it was refreshing to hear from someone whose priorities are so evidently in order--that's not a trait you often find on the internet.

In an era that casually accepts the celebrity of -- and TV and film appearances by -- Stephen Hawking, there's absolutely no reason for you to avoid your own such appearances. This is true with or without the prosthesis. The face just does not make the man anymore. This is especially the case for you since this blog and the resulting familiarity we all now have with your inner life.

The prosthesis does look good, though. Wear it in extended good health!

Roger,

I'm a long-time reader (and watcher, when you were on television), but a first-time commenter. When you started publishing pictures of your new, post-surgery appearance, I thought you looked different, but not *completely* different. I think this must be because your eyes are exactly the same. That prosthetic device is really something. I hope you'll let us know what you think of it somewhere down the line, after you've had the chance to work with it some more.

It would be a real pleasure to see you on TV again. I sometimes look up old reviews from the Siskel & Ebert shows just to listen to the back-and-forth between you and Gene. Your voice synthesizer is fantastic. I saw your interview with Oprah, and I couldn’t believe how much it sounded like you. Yes, you can tell it’s a computer, but you can also tell that it’s Ebert. I was also surprised by how nice it was to hear that sound again. You said it was a good feeling for you to hear it; I think it was a good feeling for a lot of other people as well.

I’m glad you’ve kept on reviewing, regardless of the medium your reviews appear in. I read two reviewers faithfully - you and James Berardinelli - and it sure would feel strange not to have new words from you to read every week. Your “voice” comes out in your words. You don’t know me personally, but after all this time I feel that I know that voice well. Keep on communicating, whether it be through speech or the written word, and I guarantee I’ll keep coming back to hear you. All the best to you!

-A.E.

Wow, you look great Roger!

There's still a natural, youthful glow around you that I'm sure is drawing from your eyes. Tyra banks would call it Smeyesing; smiling with your eyes.

Is it wrong that the first thing that came to mind for me was the Nicolas Cage-John Travolta movie "Face/Off"?

You'll always be my favorite film critic, Roger. Please keep us posted on that new show of yours.

Wonderful entry, Roger. As I read, I remembered reading elsewhere that after the third surgery had failed that you were done with them.

It's interesting that while society has become more accepting (tolerant?) of any deformity, and while children curiously stare, that TV viewers would be distracted by any deformity. The more things change...

Again, enjoyed the entry, as I have almost all of your entries (yes, video games can be art - never say never!). So glad that despite your difficulties that you are still able to share your love of all things, not just film. I look forward to many more great entries (and Tweets, you twit)!

Your face is beautiful as is. A radical surgery like that wouldn't make you "more normal", but less so. Like how many gastric bypass patients become thin, but lose their health when everything gets re-routed. Loss of eating and talking are greater losses than the visuals, I would think, and even those are things one can go without. I applaud you for...well, being you. Thank you.

Roger, You are beautiful. Thank you once again for your wonderful blog. It is educational, moving, funny, inspiring...beautiful.

So how does the prosthetic feel when it's on, Roger? It is uncomfortable? I imagine if it was you wouldn't bother with it at all.

I think it looks fine, but like so many have said, it doesn't matter to me one way or the other. You're always Roger and always awesome.

Roger, dear, you are so beautiful.

Did you know that a cluttered house is the sign of a cluttered mind?

Yours is cluttered with wisdom, truth, humor and grace.

Your eyes smile.

Ebert: My house is also cluttered with clutter.

I'm not going to lie. I was (well, okay, I probably still am) of the side-show seeking type, which is what made me want to watch you on Oprah. I hadn't paid much attention to you since your days on the balcony with Mr. Siskel. Back when you were still on PBS.

But it lead me to follow your tweets, and now I'm hooked. Your words. your thoughts. I covet them. I hunger for them. I've learned so much from them.

Thank you, Mr. Ebert. For helping me to see that the world is exploding with beauty. Starting with you.

aaaallllrighty then.. now I gotta go cry. :`-)

You're a true inspiration, Mr. Ebert. I cannot wait to see what you have planned for the show, lord knows television review needs your guiding hand again. Also, can't hide the fact that I'm now a little curious to see the modern marvel that your protheses seem to be.

Obviously as a fan I don't really know you, but I would postulate based on what you are writing these days, that your experiences have made you a deeper man. A more joyful, empathetic and caring man it seems. Best.

May I suggest swapping with Nicholas Cage? Or Travolta...whichever you would prefer, really.

Dear Roger,

I gather you don't believe in an afterlife and all that metaphysical stuff. I have good reason to believe, but that's another story.

I want to say this: I do think we are all here on this earth to learn and expand. While simple lessons can be learned at every turn, there are those we encounter in life that have a major impact on the way we think and the way we live.

Post after post, your fans write about the impact you are having on their lives. I don't believe in coincidence and I feel compelled to say that, for whatever reason, you are here now, inadvertantly perhaps, as a teacher. Through your writing that stirs the soul, I always sense your basic message of love and acceptance.

Thanks so much for that.

Wow Roger, always an inspiration. Childhood surgeries and a few summers being known as "Crutches" taught me the value of words over looks early on. Loyalty to your body just isn't as present today, and I'm glad to see you owning what's yours so honestly.

Dear Roger
Was that last photo with or without the prosthesis? You look very good! Based off that photo alone, I would have no idea anything was wrong!

Daniel

Reply to: One day a thought came into my head: Everyone is beautiful when they look at you with love in their eyes. - Ebert

Amazing. That's exactly the same thought I had when I read your review of "GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra."

What a beautiful movie. If you have enough love when you sit in the theater watching that movie, you can't help but think it's beautiful.

And Transformers 2. What a beautiful movie.

From now on, every Michael Bay movie should able to use this quote in their ads.

"What a beautiful movie. - Roger Ebert"

Reply to: David Rotter, orthotic and prosthetic director of Scheck & Siress, a company specializing in prostheses. Julie Jordan Brown, a Milwaukee anaplastologist. two versions, firmer silicone and softer silicone. In theory their prosthesis will blend with my face, and people won't easily detect it.

Put me down "strongly in favor" of the prosthesis. And even more strongly in favor of a more elaborate attempt at reconstruction.

I was at the gym yesterday, and I looked in the mirror and thought, "I've never been this old before."

Or, to explain that a bit, "I can't use the tools I learned when I was twenty. I have to find new ones that reflect my current condition."

Maybe it doesn't bother you now. But as time passes and the body ages further, you've got to change some of your approach to life.

It's not MY decision. But if you're asking for votes, I just did.

Ebert: Always remember, my friends, it is better to feel good than to look good.

---Damn straight.

Dear Roger/Mr.Ebert (old habits die hard)!

Thank you so much for this writing. I have tried to write something reasonably coherent to explain how I feel, but when I do, it gets away from me. This often happens to me when I am in the presence of something wonderful.

This is wonderful writing, "large and life-affirming", as Halley Reed would say.

I can't wait to see what you and Chaz are cooking up for us in your new show.

PS - Your prosthesis looks great!

Wow. No comment in particular. Just staying tuned in to the amazing journe and adventure that is your life.

First I'd like to commend you for sharing this experience with us. I really don't know what I'd do in this situation, but I do know this...I am a food junkie, and if I had to look like someone else to taste excellent wine, seafood, or French cooking again, so be it. I have high hopes that the research medical community will actually be able to grow you a copy of your face very soon, let alone, more effective ways treating what caused it in the first place.

dr.m

PS Like someone else mentioned above, I can still hear your voice. I remember what it sounds like. :)

Amazingly it seems as if I've been enjoying your words for most of my life, at first spoken and now written. Your twitter post led me to this article and I can't quite find a way to tell you how much I appreciated reading it. As an octogenarian I have the usual amount of troublesome plague to deal with resulting from two cancers and two heart attacks. I've been more than a little ashamed of my difficulty accepting the results of my bouts with radiation, chemotherapy, surgery and invasive cardiac procedures. I admire your strength and sound judgment. You are helping me so much. Thank you!

Mr. Ebert, it is truly a pleasure to read your posts.

Thank you so much for giving us a glimpse not only into your life, but into your philosophies about art and life - and your highly personal decision-making processes.

I think of all the people in the world who look in the mirror and find themselves lacking in one way or another. Time grants us perspective, of course, but your thoughts on the subject would be invaluable to those who worry more about what's on the outside than what's on the inside.

Hmmm... what does it say about me that in that last picture I'm thinking, "Yeah, yeah, very nice. But how do I make it bigger so I can see the titles on some of those books?"

Wow. This is the best thing I've read all week. You possess an enviable degree of equanimity together with the reflectiveness to understand all the "why"s, and the writing chops to convey it all beautifully.

With the prosthetic in place, it doesn't look like you (or the "you" in my mind's eye) but it certainly looks like a guy who wouldn't be out of place on TV. And we've all held in our head images of young brunet Roger, heavier Roger, newly thin Roger, graying Roger, and postop Roger—so why not add prosthetic-chin Roger to the gallery?

Just noticed that you ARE wearing the prosthetic in that last photo. Until I double-clicked on it for a bigger view, I couldn't even tell - (which, of course, is the hallmark of any good prosthesis). Match the color to you skin and you're set. No blowing smoke here, it looks good.

I am not much of a gambler. Thirty hours of surgery is a helluva risk. And then there is the recovery and twists and turns along the way. Too much down time.

You are right. Your life is working as of now. Seems very full and happy. We certainly enjoy your energy and ability to connect. A prosthesis for tv though - wonderful way to control the focus. Set the frame as it were. Those wheels are always turning aren't they. Thank you for the guided tour of your thought process. I keep expecting Minerva to jump out of your head one day.

Oh, and I love that you have a blog posse again for Cannes. Looking forward to vicariously enjoying it. Ebertfest was a super treat from afar.

Roger, a friend of mine got me into reading your blog a few months ago when you profiled online film critic Dan Schneider. I have enjoyed your blog and his site.

This is the first time I've commented but only because of an odd synchronicity.

My friend is a fan of Schneider's reviews and his wife's reviews of Japanese culture. Just yesterday I was watching Teshigahara's The Face of Another, after reading about it here: http://www.cosmoetica.com/B918-DES715.htm

Scary syncronisitty. If you ever watch that film, or have, you'd know that I vote NO!!! on replacing your current face. And you'll know why.

lmao this is cool!

Here's the thing that shines through your face - prosthetic or no prosthetic. You're clearly a happy man.

If the prosthetic makes you feel more comfortable for media, go for it. It does make a significant impact on your appearance.

Mr. Ebert,

I think you are probably one of the bravest men out there right now. You have always been perceptive and bold in your judgment on your self and others, as well as the movies.

To be honest, why spend the last few years, you may or may not have practicing for the rest of your life. When you can just continue living it the way you have?

As a reader, I would much rather read and hear your reviews, than see a "pretty boy face", leave that to the E! tonight and MTV hosts.

They did a fine job with that prosthesis. I had to double take. I bet with makeup it could look seemless. I think it accomplished what they planned and looks good.

Honestly, it doesn't help or hurt my opinion of your screen presence, I'm just looking forward to you doing TV again, on or behind the screen. On TV, instead of your entire face, I always paid attention to your hands and your eyebrows. You frequently made a motion when you talked about a movie, a scene, or a filmmaker and referred to a "whole." You looked as if you were caressing a globe and your eyebrows would raise way up, as if reliving what you were explaining and being astonished again. Once,I remember you raised your elbows way up, about to shoulder height, and looked like a kid peeking over an invisible table, and you ran your hands over the smooth invisible surface. Your eyebrows were bunched in concentration as you stared at Gene to make sure he was following your explanation. You still have full functionality of your brows and hands, that's all I need.

I'm more interested in Cereproc's efforts. I long to hear your voice talking about movies again. When we finally got a taste of your new voice on Oprah, I was already thinking of podcast film commentary, in which you can program your voice to say things at certain designated times during a film's running length, similar to how subtitles are programmed. Also, short, one-sided reviews with clips running in the background, like Joel Siegel with less mustache.

So...yeah. Looks good and can't wait to see you on TV.

Others have said it before, but I will say it on my own behalf - your writing (in this post, and in general) and the heart behind it keep me a fan, reading and following, even when you say things that anger, cut, or offend me. The prosthesis is wonderful, and will have its uses, but if anything your heart and written expression are more a wonder to behold now than before your face changed and literal voice went away.

I share with you a love of movies, and your reviews (on TV before I could read, and in writing since) have nurtured and challenged that love... but your openness, expressed life and intelligent humor have polished my love of thinking, sharing, and opining. Opining is a terrible word... but it made me smile so it remains.

Thank you for "facing" outward!

Ebert,

I think you write as if you are scared that by looking different, you as a person will have changed. But who you are is not in the face, but in the soul, spirit and personality. You will have a different appearance, but you will still be Ebert. But think of all the things you could have again, the good chats among good friends around good food, the wide smiles and comfortable laughter.

Think of it this way, you feel you have earned your current face, your life is written on it and it is what it is, you say. But a new face would also be a mark, a sign of the struggles of surgery and of getting back the eating and talking. Your new face too will have to be earned, and that new appearance will be as much an indication of bravery and toughness as the face before it. You will still be you, but could gain some other things as well.

Over the years I've had some reconstructive facial surgeries due to birth defects and it is a weird feeling to heal up and see that my face has altered. It's disconcerting and takes a year or two before I psychologically accept my face as "me" again. Photos of myself startle me because that's not the way I think I look to others. It's like having two selves in one and I don't recommend it.

Plus, as you've pointed out, going in for surgery is a big drag and healing takes quite a painful while, affecting your whole life as well as your family. You've weighed all your options and you sound incredibly healthy and whole. I appreciate your essays about your facial issues. Hardly anyone ever covers this topic, including me (like I'm hiding out, even in my writing). It's heartening to us who are "differently faced." Cheers, Roger.

"Being realistic, I believe TV viewers have a limited eagerness to gaze upon my face."

Realistic? How sure are you about this?

How would YOU react if a face like yours went on the air and said something interesting about a movie? I know the answer: You would sit and listen. You would mute the commercials. Surf the remote a bit. Come back. Un-mute. Go to work the next day.

Can we extend the same assumption to other viewers? Is your viewership somehow less sophisticated than your readership?

Who is it that said "People aren't dumb. Movies and politicians just treat them that way?"

You're neither. Good luck with your decisions.

Roger,
The prosthesis looks very good but like so many of your fans I have to say that your new normal face is very precious to us all.
You smile so much more now and there are not enough smiles anywhere.You look happy and it is contagious.

Every morning, preparatory to writing my daily review, I check out IMDB. On their homepage, they tell me whose birthday we're celebrating. Sometimes, it's some tedious neo-celebrity I've never heard of, and sometimes, it's a classic star. This morning, for example, we have Gary Cooper, and the other day, it was Audrey Hepburn.

Why do I bring this up? Audrey was, in my opinion, the most beautiful woman of the twentieth century. Even as she aged, she was still Audrey, and what was changed in her face as time passed was the shape of the life she'd lived written there. Gary Cooper? Rugged. Determined. Every line there told a story. Faces change a lot of things. Would you still be the same with a facial transplant? You would. Under the new face, you would still be Roger. However, the face you have now shows the life you've led, with all its pleasure and pain.

Would I support you if you changed your face? Of course. It's your face and your choice. The reason so many of us prefer the prosthetic, I think, is that it's just more of the shape of the life you've lived written there.

Hi Roger,

On the new show, would you be lip-synching with the Cereproc voice? Or would that kind of movement be too difficult? I, personally, would love to see a full performance from you if you were going to be on TV. If the lip-synching isn't possible, perhaps you could convince an animation studio to "dub" the lip movements (you could offer them a deal - their next 3 movies get a guaranteed good review, even if they are in 3D!). Barring that, perhaps Conan O'Brien could be persuaded to share his Clutch Cargo technology...

Love hearing your thoughts in any medium!
Kevin

Well, I've read through all the comments to make sure--although who knows what other comments will post before this one?--but as of now I appear to be the only one who's selfish enough to say, "I wish you could speak again." I could care less about the appearance--meeting you at Ebertfest confirmed for me that the face you now have is YOUR face--and what a treat it was to see it, to have you glance at my name tag during the Club meetngreet and give me those famous thumbs, your eyes smiling. But mea maxima culpa, it would've been swell for you to regale us from the stage with quick wit and infectious joy.

There. I'm done, out of my system. Of course you regaled us. You do so with every word on this site. And I'm grateful you reminded me, via one of your responses above, what grueling work it would be to please me. Like your first commenter, I thought of Eyes Without a Face--and I should keep that in mind, because it all came to tears--and besides, you have both eyes and a face, a pleasure to see.

Mr. Ebert... The strangest thing is I want to say "Roger," but I know I don't have the right. It's just that your presence and writing has such intimacy that it feels very personal. But, social conventions and certainly respect due - Mr. Ebert, I didn't even know what was happening to you until literally last month, it came as a real shock to hear that you had fought cancer (and won, living is worth the cost!). I agree that it's your choice. I respect your position.

I'm only 23, you've simply been there my entire life. I have been purchasing your books since I was able to appreciate them; I don't remember how old I was when I got "Your Movie Sucks" - somewhere between 13 and 15, I think - but it made me a complete fan overnight. We don't always agree on movies, but we usually do, and many, many times I've based my movie selection for the night on your recommendations (in fact, I think I've tried to watch most of the movies you gave especially bad reviews to as well, for the "so bad it's good" factor).

I don't know what to say. The world is a better place with you in it, you're a media icon but you feel more like a sort of long-distance, movie buff friend (again, I suppose, because in my lifetime you've just always been there, always "mattered" in cinema). Thanks for everything, and I hope that you keep on doing your thing, on your terms, for as long as you can. I'll be watching. :)

With any issue of appearance my philosophy is, be as you are comfortable being. Your comfort level is affected by other people's opinions, but not entirely. Some of it is based on your own image of yourself, and some is based on actual physical comfort. But when you are comfortable with your appearance, other people will be more comfortable with your appearance as well. It all interacts.

Weight issues are a totally different thing, but related, I think. "Fat Acceptance" is more and more visible online as an option for people whose bodies are not naturally thin. The argument goes, this is my body's default state, and to a large degree it doesn't matter what I'm eating or wearing or doing. I cannot be thin without punishing my body to an unnatural degree, so I refuse. As long as I'm medically healthy, I'm going to be comfortable with the body I've got. Sites like this (and many more like it) emphasize that you can be beautiful and fashionable at any size: http://www.youngfatandfabulous.com/

I've always struggled with weight. A few years ago my mother put together some photographs of me at a young age to send to my significant other. She pretty much selected all of the photos where I looked the thinnest, particularly my prom photos. I'm not sure what her thinking was in sending these to him, other than to say "Look, she used to be skinny!" But when my sweetie looked at these photos, he was horrified. He said, "you looked terrible! what the hell?!" So I looked at the photos. I was kind of startled myself. First of all, my goodness, I *was* skinny. I was actually skinny. Secondly, I looked miserable. The misery was totally apparent in my face and posture. I was on a pretty much liquid diet and still thought I was a blimp. I was so unhappy. Now I'm a good deal heavier than that, but: I'm happy. Physically, I settled into what I think is my body's natural groove, which includes some padding. Secondly I quit trying to present myself as what I wanted to be or thought I was supposed to be. Dress the body you've got, not the one you want. I'm more comfortable and I think a lot more attractive this way.

As soon as I figured all of this out, I was so much happier. But... the amount of pushback from people is unbelievable. Somebody who used to know me back then assumes that I must be so unhappy NOW. I must be desperate to be thin. I must need their help. Try this diet. Do this exercise. Use this supplement. Put on this clothing. Buy this equipment. Use this cream. Cover yourself. Fix yourself. For us. We're looking at you. We see flaws. Flaws are not allowable. Fix them. You can't be happy with yourself. You are flawed. Don't let us see flaws. Don't make us uncomfortable. Don't eat in front of us. Pretend you never eat. Pretend you live entirely on air. Can you live entirely on air? Try it for awhile. That might help. And so on.

I guess what I'm saying is, not wanting any more surgery makes complete sense to me. Sometimes people think they're being helpful when they're really putting demands on you. Sometimes for their own comfort, and not always yours. You've had plenty of surgery. You're done with that now, you've made it pretty clear. That makes total sense. Surgery sucks. Who wants any more of that than they absolutely have to? The prosthesis is a neat option. You might like it. But even that comes down to your own comfort. You're the one who has to live your life. It seems like you've got it figured out pretty well.

This is a correction to the comment I just tried to post! Chronologically the book I got was obviously "I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie," unless somehow it's possible that at 23 in 2010 I read 2007's "Your Movie Sucks" around the age of 14. Haha.

Mr. Ebert... The strangest thing is I want to say "Roger," but I know I don't have the right. It's just that your presence and writing has such intimacy that it feels very personal. But, social conventions and certainly respect due - Mr. Ebert, I didn't even know what was happening to you until literally last month, it came as a real shock to hear that you had fought cancer (and won, living is worth the cost!). I agree that it's your choice. I respect your position.

I'm only 23, you've simply been there my entire life. I have been purchasing your books since I was able to appreciate them; I don't remember how old I was when I got "I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie" - somewhere between 13 and 15, I think - but it made me a complete fan overnight. We don't always agree on movies, but we usually do, and many, many times I've based my movie selection for the night on your recommendations (in fact, I think I've tried to watch most of the movies you gave especially bad reviews to as well, for the "so bad it's good" factor).

I don't know what to say. The world is a better place with you in it, you're a media icon but you feel more like a sort of long-distance, movie buff friend (again, I suppose, because in my lifetime you've just always been there, always "mattered" in cinema). Thanks for everything, and I hope that you keep on doing your thing, on your terms, for as long as you can. I'll be watching. :)

Dear Roger,

«Everyone is beautiful when they look at you with love in their eyes.»

Your blog and this quote makes my day.

Thank you.

l.l.

Dear Roger,

I started watching you and Siskel when I was in sixth grade, around 1995, and have a perfect recollection of your voice and face. For me, neither has changed much. Sure, we can't physically hear your voice but it reverberates through our minds when we read your journal and reviews.

As for your face, I'll be honest, I never much looked at your mouth or jaw. I've always gravitated towards your eyes and it was the same with Siskel. Perhaps because your eyes are the window through which you had viewed the things you write and talk about, I instantly look to them for the truth and feeling in your words. Even before I read a review on your site or one of your tweets, I look to the nearest picture and focus on your eyes. So when I first saw the Esquire picture, your eyes hit first and I thought, "There's Ebert." Then I saw your jaw, focused for a minute or two, then went back to the eyes and saw that you were smiling, possibly laughing, and content. Of course, I smiled back.

Thanks for this and, well, everything else you've written, about films, food, life, love, whatever the subject. Thanks.

I saw the news on the full face transplant and I too thought of you and your voicelessness. More so, that you can't eat regular food, or eat with people, chat at table, etc. I thought what a blessing it was that you lost your voice, and found a bigger one online. I wondered to myself whether you'd have dived into the internet so fully had you not gone through these trials. I believe these thoughts were precipitated by the news that you've won the Webby Award (congratulations!) You keep being the best at what you do, whatever you do, and that's no small thing. The internet is clearly a better place for your activity, hence the award.
Now that you've extended yourself here, would regaining your physical voice take that away? A new face would not be someone else's face, it would be yours. I can't say your jaw would look just as it used to when another man's mandible was put in there, but it would look more like you than like him, and it would be your face, every bit as much as this new, weird, smiling, and slack-jawed face is still your face. A face is more than what we see in a picture, after all, it's the whole of the expressions that move across it.
Reasons to pursue a transplant: cutting edge, being one of the guinea pigs. Being able to sit at a table with friends and talk, laugh, eat, drink. Being able to kiss again. Being able to shout when you're angry, laugh when you're happy, murmur when content. Tasting rootbeer.
Reasons not to: It might be another run on the heartbreak express. Pain, lots of it. It could endanger your life. It's damned expensive. If successful, would it imperil this wonderful new involvement you've got with the internet and all us fine folks hereon? Oh, and even if successful, would it give you back all those abilities?
I think we'd watch you, listen to you, and admire you, any way you presented yourself. Just don't kill yourself, old man, over a jawbone. You are in the latter half of your life already, try and squeeze as many good years as you can.

I saw the news on the full face transplant and I too thought of you and your voicelessness. More so, that you can't eat regular food, or eat with people, chat at table, etc. I thought what a blessing it was that you lost your voice, and found a bigger one online. I wondered to myself whether you'd have dived into the internet so fully had you not gone through these trials. I believe these thoughts were precipitated by the news that you've won the Webby Award (congratulations!) You keep being the best at what you do, whatever you do, and that's no small thing. The internet is clearly a better place for your activity, hence the award.
Now that you've extended yourself here, would regaining your physical voice take that away? A new face would not be someone else's face, it would be yours. I can't say your jaw would look just as it used to when another man's mandible was put in there, but it would look more like you than like him, and it would be your face, every bit as much as this new, weird, smiling, and slack-jawed face is still your face. A face is more than what we see in a picture, after all, it's the whole of the expressions that move across it.
Reasons to pursue a transplant: cutting edge, being one of the guinea pigs. Being able to sit at a table with friends and talk, laugh, eat, drink. Being able to kiss again. Being able to shout when you're angry, laugh when you're happy, murmur when content. Tasting rootbeer.
Reasons not to: It might be another run on the heartbreak express. Pain, lots of it. It could endanger your life. It's damned expensive. If successful, would it imperil this wonderful new involvement you've got with the internet and all us fine folks hereon? Oh, and even if successful, would it give you back all those abilities?
I think we'd watch you, listen to you, and admire you, any way you presented yourself. Just don't kill yourself, old man, over a jawbone. You are in the latter half of your life already, try and squeeze as many good years as you can.

The face transplant business truly is a marvel, taking science fiction (Face/Off) and turning it into science fact.

And yet there's always the debate on whether (to quote anothe film) that science is "so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."

My two cents from a reader whom you'll likely never meet, if you feel it will make you more complete, if you feel you will be better for it, that you will have a better life, then by all means, go for it.

There will always be critics. There are those in the deaf community that look down on implants that would allow hearing. It's foolishness.

A computerized voice will never be your voice, not really. . . not the Roger Ebert of today.

Kirk Douglas, post stroke, went on to do films, even with the effects present.

I must admit, the rivetting story of your surgeries in Esquire is what drew me to your blog in the first place. But it is your words that keep me coming back. I'm sure the same will be true of your television show.

Mr. Ebert,

I cannot say how much I admire your work and your willingness to be completely forthcoming in your blog.
Your courage is an awesome site to behold.
Thank you for attending the SFIFF ceremony. It was unforgetable sitting three rows behind you watching "Julia." Kudos to the directors who participated as well.

You may have lost your ability to speak, but you have not lost your voice.

Mitch

Ebert: Always remember, my friends, it is better to feel good than to look good.

Agreed.

Your remark reminded me of a quote from Andre Jordan: "...I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. They are the only thing you own. The only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones or skin. I will not fall in love with the places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind."

I have greatly admired your reviews and journal for a long while and although our ideas do not always coincide I love the way in which you are able to express your viewpoints. I was intensely curious to see how you looked after the surgeries and seeing your pictures I am more aware that you look happy than that anything else is amiss. Take care.

Always, M.

I'm pretty sure my entire motivation for submitting to this procedure would be to eat again. Having survived an orthepedic reconstruction to my ankle five years ago (not life-threatening but really painful) I'm convinced I'd pass up any elective surgery, even one that promised to leave me looking like Scarlett Johanssen. But if I needed a face transplant in order to eat again, I'd take a Ray Bradbury's face ... but that's just me.

The tragedy would be if you lost your voice - not that air-supported contraction and expansion of vocal chords, but this voice here, that you've found and nurtured and that we all treasure.
When my wife was going through brain cancer she would blithely venture out in public, 300+ pounds from massive steroid doses and bald as a cue ball from radiation. I still loved her, held her hand, laughed with her. She is, after all, still the same person I married.
We're all more than the collection of skin and bones and muscle that make up our appearance. When we internalize that, we begin learning what matters. As my wife has, as I have, as you have. As your readers have.
Write on, you American treasure, you.

Several years ago a cousin a few years older than me said that a sign of maturity is knowing when to leave something alone. I was glad to finally meet you a couple of weeks ago. You look just like what I expected. I try to take my own photo everyday. I hope to live long enough to see a transition. Right now I look as I always have, like me. Only the hair and glasses have changed. You know that chain email about choices (even when something bad happens you choose how to respond), I believe you chose to make lemonade, and sweet tea, and not let negative ideas live rent free in your head, and to write like nobody's business. So if you choose the prosthesis or not, no problem.

When I saw the post would be about the possibility of facial transplants the first movie I thought of was Seconds with Rock Hudson, but then I thought the better of it. Just, you know, leave it alone. Really. And then on Doctor Who, whenever the Doctor regenerates, he always has a mirror scene where he grouses about how the ears or nose never turn out right; but then he gets a whole new body and a personality makeover as well, so it's not really the same thing.

Have you read Consciousness Explained by Daniel Dennett? As a philosopher he gives a refreshing take on 'mind-body' questions because he has as strong a knowledge of science and computers as he has of philosophy. The whole question of 'what is it about me that's "me"?' gets complicated in today's world, but Dennett's approach leads us in some unexpected directions.

One last thing. Clark Kent is right; glasses do the job. When you wear your glasses you look more like Roger, regardless of what's happening down by your jaws.

My Father has two artificial hips - replaced in the 70's when he was in his 30's. He used to walk from the knees down, swaying back and forth. I was accustomed to the stares from others,it was 'normal' for me. Now I have a daughter with Down Syndrome, it's deja-vu all over again to go out. Your comments surrounding all of that resonate so. . . who are we, what makes us Human, what makes us us?
My Dad's new hips? Relieved a great deal of pain, but didn't change him a bit in my eyes.
I'm so glad that you live in a time and place that give you both the options and the means to find a way that suits you. You'll look great to me, either way.

Hi, Roger
I understand everything that you been through. For the past 3 years I've been dealing with Cancer of my lower mouth. After four surgeries with leeches and my last surgery replacing a whole new titanium jaw and a bar to hold my chin up I kind of understand the mental and emotional stress anyone with Cancer is going through. After 43 radiation treatments it was all good, but the after effects is just devestating. It has destroyed bones and blood vessels that stops the healing process. I had to see my doctor this week because there was exposed metal in my mouth. He claims that I need another surgery to construct a flap. Again due to the radiation the blood vessels are not healing. I look pretty good for now and my cancer is maglignant, but for how long? I just thank God for his continuous love for me. It really does'nt matter how I look, but it does matter how much people I can love and help today.

Hawaiian Brian B.

Hi Mr. Ebert,

Are you always going to reject any more surgery?

What would it take for you to change your mind?

There are always new technologies coming out,

what if something fits your needs perfectly?

What does your wife think about these new procedures?

What is your favorite ice cream flavor so I can eat it in your honor?

You look great BTW
I ask for eating enjoying food sake

Looks great, Roger. can you move that jaw prosthesis? Can you move your face much when it is on?

Roger,

Just occurred to me that your life story would make a fabulous movie! Have you ever considered who you'd want to portray you as the young Roger Ebert, and who might play you as Esquire-era Ebert?

You are just plain cute, with and without the prosthetic. I like your face.

This is probably a dumb question asked by a million of your fans already...

I understand that you cannot chew without a jaw, but can't you drink?

Ebert: No, because I have an opening in my lower chin.

Technology may very well advance to the point such serious procedures are without risk and improve appearances. I'm sure we'll be able to clone any organ within a hundred years from now.

Staph infections can kill (not to be ignored). So I'd be hesitant.

I suppose it's possible there might be some break-through procedure within the next 5 years.

Still, you could shock the world by transforming yourself into a likeness of Gene Siskel (bad humor, I know)...

Enjoy the blog!

Face/Off for real. Sounds interesting. I watch your reviews of old films all the time with Siskel. Thanks to Youtube and the atthemovies website. I still have some of the your show on VHS tapes. Thanks for being a great teacher and film critic. cheers, the guy who saw a lot of films with ya in 1994-1995. P.S. Have you tried playing Modern Warfare 2 yet? Even if you don't play a lot or any video games, you might enjoy it or try playing Pac-Man, that game still rocks. Thanks for writing a blog on my 35th Birthday. cool gift.

Roger, regarding your belief that, "T.V. viewers have a limited eagerness to look upon my face", I think you're mistaken. No doubt, seeing such a significant change in the mirror every morning must be a surreal experience, and I'm certainly not going to tell you I know how you feel, but I truly think that your self consciousness is feeding your fears about how others perceive your appearance. I've been reading your reviews and articles for thirty years and I was so thrilled when you came back to work. It was exciting to find that the wit and vigor of your voice, as it plays in my head while I read your work, was undiminished. In fact,I noticed a change. Forgive me if I cannot describe it more clearly, but your writing seems a shade more emotionally accessible, more like the other side of a conversation, as opposed to just being good. When I first saw the picture of you from Esquire, my first reaction was, "Wow, he looks different". Not bad, not good, just different. I had the same feeling when I heard your interview on WGN last week. Admittedly Rog, I did not possess strong opinions about your appearance before your operations, but I am struck by how quickly your image has assimilated into my mental concept of you. Now, just as I did with your old appearance, when I see a picture of you, I don't think of the relative merits of your looks, I think "Roger". For what its worth, when I see your picture and it triggers the mental connection that means "Roger", I think of the same person that I have admired and respected since I was in high school and whose voice I look forward to hearing in my head every Friday. I think most people have the same reaction and, if you detect, by their manner, that people have noticed your appearance, I hope you understand that this is not evidence that they are making a judgment about how you look, but merely that they are realigning their mental picture of you. I can understand if logistical and technical issues make a return to television more trouble than its worth, but please don't let your appearance be a factor.

Several years back, there was a fascinating show on TLC called "The Human Face," hosted by John Cleese and co-hosted by Elizabeth Hurley. In the middle of reading ozma's comment, I remembered this series, which is very relevant to how faces and facial beauty are perceived in society.

Here's the IMDB link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0280262/combined

I think the measure of a man (or woman) is what he (she) DOES with his (her) life, not how he (she) looks. S M mentions that "nice looking people are often not attractive." I would say that attractiveness has maybe 20% to do with appearance and 80% to do with personality. If you have an attractive personality, but are not outwardly attractive, then I'll want to hang out with you, but if you don't have an attractive personality, you could be the most outwardly attractive individual on the planet, and I still wouldn't want to sit anywhere near you.

Also, you tweeted: "Everyone is beautiful when they look at you with love in their eyes," but I also think the reverse is true; that when you look at someone with love in your eyes, it makes the other person beautiful, too. So I think I can speak for everyone who comments here that you'll look beautiful to us no matter what your physical appearance is. I also think we'll be so happy that you're back on the air, no matter how brief your appearances are, that we won't care whether you have a droopy jaw, a prosthesis, a new face, or a horn growing out of your nose.

I'm just 30 years of age and this will seem petty and minor, but a few months ago, I used my left arm to reach my back in an akward manner and somehow, I must have injured a nerve around my elbow in the process of twisting it. Now, I can't really feel my pinky finger in my left hand (more specifically, it feels numb all the time).

I'll never appreciate more how useful that pinky finger was (let alone your mouth, nose, eyes, etc.) No longer can I feel how firmly that finger is gripping something along with the rest of my hand, so it's just there- useless, lol...

Anyways, I now appreciate EVERY part of myself that still works when before, it never crossed my mind. All thanks to a pinky finger. Keep up the good work, Roger.

24-hour operation? Yikes, not worth it in my opinion. If you're happy you're happy.

Roger,

You are an inspiration to all - 4 stars. Over the last 6 years, we, (your fans and readers), have never lost touch with you. You not only continue to provide us with words of filmic wisdom and contributions to the cinematic-world, but have also kept in contact with all of us - in terms of discussions of films, life, love, family, and I thank you for this.

You are a great man who's voice will always be heard in our hearts.

Very classy, Roger! You don't look so weird now!

Like many who have written comments here, I also grew up with you, and speaking for those of us of that certain age, I want you to know what a gift you’ve given us, sharing your last self-portrait before your surgeries. It is beautiful, and probably the handsomest picture of you that I’ve ever seen. Having said that, of course, all your pictures are gifts to us, and I must say I agree with you that the main problem with the one Esquire chose for its cover was the hair. The fourth, shaggy-haired one, above, is tres cool, and that top one is really too awesome for words. Thanks, Roger.

Bravo, Roger! As long as you (and Chaz) are happy with your face, nothing else matters.

I keep thinking of all those girls and women out there who think they're supposed to look like magazine covers. They're supposed to look like *themselves*, nothing more or less. I'm glad you're not getting the face transplant, because you still look like you, surgeries or no surgeries, and I would hate for that to change.

Roger, as a man who has no doubt seen The Face of Another, of course you don't want to get a face transplant - look how that guy wound up.

There is such a fascinating history in literature and film about new faces altering people's personalities. Though I'm sure all of the people who have undergone those transplants are the same people they'd always been, we really seem to take to the idea that a person's soul is in their face. They also say that by the age of 50 everyone has the face they deserve, even if you got a transplant, would you really have any right to that face?

I find that pic at the bottom very moving. The photo of you and Gene at the back really strikes me in the chest. What Barthes would call the 'punctum' in his final book *The Camera Lucida*.

Having acquired a case of bell's palsy at a young age which never got resolved, I no longer see my scars when I look at myself in the mirror. But I sometimes see them in other people's eyes.

And why don't I find any of the wonderful people who respond here on this thread in real life when I looking for a date :-)

Dear Roger,

First time commenter, long time reader (Sorry to resort to the radio cliche). Anyway, I think your frank display of your trials and tribulations, your openness with regards to your conscience in flux, and, your sheer nerve to keep pressing on is extraodinarily brave and moving. Further proof that indeed, the printed word can speak volumes!

Reading this, I can't help but make the comparison between yourself and Stephen Hawking. Whereas you insist upon keeping your face in spite of the lure of brave new surgeries, Mr. Hawking (suffering I believe from ALS) insisted upon sticking with his circa 1980's computerized voice--because it had now become his watermark, so to speak.

Fun correlation I thought anyway.

Best wishes and warmest regards,

Stephan Helgoth

Interesting article about your continuing battle about trying to restore what was taken away from you, Roger. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to try this, since then you could eat, drink, and talk again. I don't believe it is "tempting fate" to try again, since you have said you are cancer free. Of course, if it did come back, I think you'd try to do something about it. To quote from "Raising Arizona" (yeah, I know you didn't like that film-I could understand why), 'Science can catch up with you one day.' Just as paralyzed people will hopefully walk again one day, people with your condition will be able to speak again and do the things they once did before losing the ability.

Oh dear. This comment is directed at the forum moderator.

In my earlier comment I kidded Mr. Ebert about his posture, in total ignorance of the fact that he'd had a bit of work done on his shoulder as well. Idiotic, I know, but the fact of his shoulder surgery isn't very well known and frankly wasn't apparent to me from other recent photos...
Anyway, perhaps you could do me a kindness and edit that bit out?

Ebert: I'm the moderator, and it didn't bother me. But thanks.

Thank you for sharing this story with us. It's one of the most touching pieces you've written.

My best wishes, Mr. Ebert.

From what I understand of facial transplants, you'll still look like 'you' more or less, as the shape of the face is so strongly influenced by the skull beneath. It seems like overkill however. I guess what I don't understand is why it isn't possible to create a prosthetic jaw for you.

Your new pic is very cool indeed, but I must admit, I'm already perfectly used to The New You. In the past, when I had seen you in-person, I would divert my eyes because I was concerned that perhaps you were overly self-conscious and uninterested in being seen. Now, however, the thought doesn't even cross my mind. To me, you look like you again. And your words still carry the same weight and volume as they ever did.

Truth be told, I was just talking about this with someone the other day:

Siskel and Ebert are iconic figures for so many of us. Even as young as 9 years old, I used to read your reviews and then map out an impossible plan to go from the Three Penny to the Davis to the Portage to the Logan to the Music Box to the Esquire to the Village North to the Plaza, based on movie times alone and with no regard for location. (I was always rather curious about the ads for the Admiral Theater as well, but that's a discussion for another time.)

At that age, everyone else wanted to be a fireman or a baseball player. I wanted to be a movie critic. Meeting you as an adult in 2002 was like growing up and having the opportunity to shake the hand of the Lone Ranger in full costume; awe-inspiring and of course intimidating. But now (and back to my point), to me you are much more human these days. I'm sure that most of this is a function of the fact that I'm no longer 9 years old, rather than your appearance, but still it is interesting to ponder.

Your blog is a gift. Thanks for continuing to share your story.

---------------------

"I know how to do it now. There are nearly thirteen million people in the world. None of those people is an extra. They're all the leads of their own stories. They have to be given their due." - CK

Mr Ebert,

Want to know what I like about your "new" face? It's always smiling. Don't change it.

Here's looking at you, kid.

S. =)

Looks great, Roger! Keep up the great writing, it's really coming fast and furious!

That comment that Siskel made regarding needing a bookmark to find your mouth seemed to be mean if it can from anyone else but Siskel.

As I like to say with friends like mine, who needs enemies?

Anyhow, in our society, and with technology continualy advancing, there is the feeling that one can become another person, a better person. but at the same time, if it's just for looks why bother? I've pondered this at times. And that is right, it is "better to feel good, than to look good.' Because if you look good that does not entail that you feel good. But if you do feel good, that could definitely entail that you look good, if you get my drift.

As many have said before me, your voice still rings in our memories, unmistakably Ebert, and it probably always will. For those of us who love movies, you are a giant; the only critic we can trust in a world full of liars and hacks. Thank God for you, Mr. Ebert, and for your beautiful face.

You are a very inspiring man, Mr. Ebert...I really admire you.

You know what's funny? I'm a sixteen-year-old Canadian girl, probably someone who is in the most unlikely percentile to really pay attention to old clips of Siskel & Ebert and to read your reviews and blog daily, and yet I look forward with anticipation to all of them.
I guess this is explained by the fact that at fifteen I had to have numerous surgeries on my stomach because of something called Crohn's disease....being someone who had always been one of "the pretty girls" in high school it really took me away from what I had been. I became a much better person from it...Although I would never willingly go through it again, it made a magnanimous contribution to who I am evolving into.
I guess I'm saying all of this as a round-a-bout way of saying that for me the scars on the outside are not festered on the inside, but rather just reminders of how bittersweet everything is, how it is always the good with the bad. Your above blog was another reminder of this to me.
Mr. Ebert, I like to think that people who have been through hard things have a connection, that there is some sort of chord that runs through those who have suffered deeply somehow. I guess that's why I felt compelled to reply to this blog. Sure, what happened to me and what happened to you are very different things, and I have no idea what I'd feel like if what had happened to my stomach had happened to my face, but I just had to say that you inspire me, and I feel related in a strange way.

Anyways, I didn't mean to get all warm and fuzzy on you :).
Thanks for sharing so poignantly, Mr. Ebert.

Claire M.

You could speak from behind a palisade, like Wilson in Home Improvement; perhaps from behind movie- and book-lined shelves?

In regards to Roger's new movie review show: There is no question that the already existing format of two critics engaged in cross-talk worked and was perfected for decades by siskel & ebert. However, that format worked not just because of its potential to provoke interesting and controversial film conversations, but because even though people tuned in for the movies, they stayed and remained captivated because of the relationship between Roger and Gene. THAT's what fascinated audiences. I think with this new Roger Ebert Movie review show, true ebert fans will watch the show no matter what. But it is without question, that this new movie review show will attract many more viewers at the prospect of either seeing Roger present on the show, or hearing current reviews via Roger's new voice. And that presents a possibility of how to further improve the format developed by siskel and ebert. I think one way to perfect the show would be to increase the number of critics from two critics to three. The third critic being Roger.

The two critics would battle it out in cross talk and discuss the movie, true to the original format, and Roger would sit by listening to their opinions. Then at the end of the argument they would defer to Roger, who would have his own opinion and review about the movie already typed up and ready to be read via his computer voice. He would render his verdict and viewers would feel as though King Solomon just passed judgment. Any unplanned pauses could be edited out. But, just seeing Roger on the show would attract mass ratings, hearing his reviews via his computerized voice, would guarantee the show's success.

People, after all, know of Roger's ordeal. Guess what, they accept him as he is and love him regardless. This new format somewhat resembles the three judge panel ingrained in pop culture by American Idol. Just as everyone is only ever waiting to hear simon cowell, people would only ever wait to hear what Roger has to say. It's no secret his opinion is, by far, more valued than any critic alive. So the two critics argue it out, then defer to Roger. Everyone listens to Roger's review. If the two critics disagree, Roger's review is the deciding vote in giving the film "Two Thumbs up". If the two critics agree and Roger disagrees, then Roger still gets to voice his opinion, even if the film gets two thumbs down. However! if all three critics agree, then we have the possibility of a glorious new feature: "Three thumbs up!" Which would send the world of film criticism into some type of frenzy. What a thought. A film getting three thumbs up. Incomprehensible!

I believe this is a smart new way to upgrade the siskel & ebert format and catapult Roger's new show into TV history. If people know Roger will be on every episode with the deciding vote being rendered through his computer, people will watch. I don't think there's a doubt in anyones mind. And people want to watch Roger. That's all there is to it. Does anyone have any thoughts on this suggestion?

"...I'd rather viewers were thinking about my opinions than my chin."

Mission accomplished. There are a few people whose opinions I would automatically stop to think about simply because their lives and bodies of work compel it. You and Stephen Hawking are two of those people. When I read something by either of you, I have a mental picture of what you look/sound like now, but it is simply a "placeholder". I can agree or disagree with either of you on any particular point, but honestly what you have both done IS to make it about the idea.

I am not entirely sure why your post reminded me of a specific line of movie dialog, but here it is --

Jack Sparrow: The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that some day. And me, for example, I can let you drown, but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy? So, can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?

In addition to my last comment, I must also say, the prosthesis looks fantastic. It's barely noticeable and it just looks great. That further spurred on my thoughts that we will probably be seeing you on TV in the near future, and most likely wearing the prosthesis.

Your post reminds me of a novel I read a few months back, Oscar Wilde's "The Picture of Dorian Gray". The main character, Dorian Gray, sells his soul for immortal youth and beauty, while a portrait of him ages horrendously (you may have seen the 1945 film adaptation).

To me, Wilde spoke volumes about how we perceive ourselves. Some people (young women in particular) will spend hours in front of the mirror looking to correct a single flaw. This may be outwardly pleasant to look at, but what are you inside? Like Dorian, if you are merely a beautiful facade with no heart and meaning, then you might as well be a painting.

(The book can be read for free here, in case you're interested: http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Picture_of_Dorian_Gray)

Having read this entry in your Journal was the perfect antidote to reading your review of "The Human Centipede" which left me feeling grim and revolted. (The subject matter affected me so, your writing was totally harmless) (Harmless may not be strong enough of a word. Blameless, perhaps)

Then I read this, which picks me right back up. I'm overjoyed that you're a fan of the New Scientist (I've been a subscriber for the better part of a decade). On the new prosthesis, to be honest I like seeing just you, bare chin and all, but don't mind the new one. You look great

I learned from your journey through the surgeries not to piss and moan about the itty bitty scars on my temple and under my eyebrow. My problems are tiny, man.

Now I wonder what it would have felt like to read this THEN the "Centipede" review...

The things you have went through have been tragic. But for many people it has been a huge blessing. Lots of people have dealt with similar health problems, but your divine gift of expression makes you unique. People, including myself, are usually timid around those with disabilites. In some cases avoiding them altogether. A big reason for that is we have absolutely no idea what its like to be in your shoes. Its impossible for me to truly empathize with someone in your situation. But you have broken down a lot of those barriers. I follow your writing pretty closely and I find it absolutely inspiring. I'm not a "everything happens for a reason" kind of guy. I also not a "God works in mysterious ways" kind of guy. But I do believe that people can find new purpose even in the darkest of situations. You are a shining example of that. Keep up the good work, you handsome devil.

I've watched you and Gene since I was in Elementary School. I would go through periods as a kid thinking Gene was so much smarter than you, then you would surprise me and I would think Gene had lost it. Hahaha, you guys became part of the fabric of my conciousness, not a big part, but palpable nonetheless. You guys always had a message with your reviews, that it was OK to dream, to think outside of the mainstream, bur sometimes being mainstream was pretty cool too, a real intelligence that wasn't bound by an agenda. I've read your books and find them very entertaining, and you have gotten me to check a movie or two I wouldn't have otherwise. Really agree with you on Monster. I am sorry you had to go through this Roger, you don't deserve it, and your handling of it is astounding. The new you looks just fine, I still have to get used to it, but the world is much better for your movie reviews.. seriously. I am just glad the guy that told Gene Back to the Future 3 is really just a bad Western is still around..(now Gene: but it's not a Western!) God Bless you Roger.

Wow mister Ebert. I was hanging on every of that piece you just wrote. And then to find out you're back in your' old form brought smile to my heart. I've been a fan of yours when ever since I used to sit on my dad's whilst he read your' reviews to me on a Saturday morning.
Best hopes on your' return to the television.

and

Why aren't you syndicated in as many papers as you used to be? e.g. the Bergen Record

Roger

Unlike you, I didn't have to adjust to a dramatic change in my circumstances. I was born missing my right hand. For whatever reason, my in utero development of my right arm stopped just below the elbow. Of course, we'll never know the reason why, but my identical twin brother was perfectly fine.

I'm 42 and, despite a lifetime like this, to be truthful, I remain very self-conscious of my disability. I wear a prosthetic hook, which provides some assistance in ordinary tasks like tying my shoelaces or carrying home groceries. But I get stares, whether I'm wearing my hook or with my stump visible to all.

I'm not bitter about it. I'm not angry at God, or my parents, or my twin brother. Would I like to have two hands? Of course! But I've been like this my whole life, a life that probably is about the half-way point, and negative feelings won't achieve anything.

In some respects, I know I am truly fortunate. I've travelled to a number of countries the past decade, mostly to developing countries, and I've seen things that have truly broken my heart. I've cried several times at the plight of others. I have seen, firsthand, that being a Canadian, and able to use my mind, has enabled me to (almost) transcend my disability, and have some degree of material success, something that so many others in this world, able-bodied or disabled, cannot hope to achieve.

I've even done some quite remarkable things. Over the past few years, I've hiked the Inca Trail in Peru, summitted Mt Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, and trekked the Nepal Himalaya. After all, truly living one's life involves experiencing all that life has to offer.

Of course, wouldn't you know - my job involves creating documentation. Pages and pages (somewhere between 110 pages and 200 pages in length) of explanations to help understand how a client's defined benefit pension plan works. And I'm the slowest typist in the company!

And here I am visiting your site for ideas on great films to watch. Because despite all that may afflict us, we can still enjoy and appreciate art, engage in conversation on this site, and enrich ourselves by sitting in the dark, captivated by world cinema.

Roger -

I love the prosthetic, and I am also curious (as another commenter above is) about what it feels like on, and also about the mechanics of getting it to stay there.

You wrote recently that we read things people write on Twitter and think we know them, but we have no idea. No idea at all. You write so much every day and reveal so much of your mind, but we had no idea this was in the works, did we? Which makes me wonder... what else do you have up your sleeve, Mr. Ebert?

P.S. You are a delight.

Mr Ebert,
I am in a constant state of awe in your ability to move past your physical differences and keep pushing forward as the person you ARE; inside, outside, all that jazz. I don't know that I could ever garner the strength inside to do what you do on a daily basis, and to keep such a positive outlook on your life.

As for your voice, I think of your voice as the one you write with. That to me, has always been your most prolific, graceful, and moving voice. I have been reading your reviews for years and actually preferred it to the tv bits because you were able to go into more detail here. Also, your reviews on movies that suck are so delightfully, artfully acerbic that a sound bite could never do the justice your writing does!

Your blog seems to have not only made your old "voice" blossom into something organic, amazing, and inspirational, but it seems to be pushing you to really stretch your entire soul to limits you might not have thought of had you never been forced to have to use the printed page to speak your mind so frequently and freely.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, it doesn't matter what you used to look like, or what you will look like to people who love your writing. You are so full of talent, vigor, and thoughtfulness that it would take a lifetime for those one of us who might look stunning (not me!), or have a "normal" speaking voice to find even an iota of the words/concepts you have come up with on this new journey you have taken (your blog).

My heart broke when I read about your illness and surgeries. And I admit, I got teary seeing your picture in Esquire. But we all need to take heart in what you have been saying all along in your strongest voice to date: You are you, you will never be anyone else, no matter what time takes from you, no matter what ravages nature, illness, and tragedy can change in you.
You are accepting of the person you are, and Mr. Ebert, that is definitely someone to aspire to, truly. You humble me, and I am sure many others in being the person you continue to be.

Your article reminded me of the world war one soldiers who got wounded in the face, sometimes very terrible, the "gueules cassees". I used to think that perhaps they were saved from death in the trenches, but on some level they lost their lives anyway. But after reading your thoughts on the matter, I have reconsidered my oppinion.

Back then there were made attemps to produce some crude prostetics, but how do you disguise a face that just isn't there? Some of these facewounds were very terrible! Besides that, these prostectics must have been very painful to wear, and considering that sometimes they just emphasized the wound they were supposed to cover, it must have taken quite some guts to wear them in public.

It's a very positive thing that today's prostetics have become so advanced. I will never stop respecting people who dedicate their skills to make something like that.

Your words make up who you are, not your appearance.
When I hear your voice I see your face, your true face, not the one cancer has made for you.

I'm in agreement with the commenter who said that you should spend the years you have enjoying what you can rather than having to relearn everything. Without meaning to assume, it seems like you've found a way to achieve a rich quality of life even with your setbacks, so as long as you're happy with where you are I see no reason for the trauma of more surgery. And those who would turn your new show off simply because of your appearance likely don't have the empathy and depth of intellect to be interested in a show that takes movies seriously, so I wouldn't worry too much about losing audience. I wish you all the best and I look forward to seeing your return to TV, in whatever capacity that takes!

If I ever am placed in a situation of losing any control of my body in anyway from what I'm used to, I have you to look to for inspiration. Thank you.

I am facially disfigured (or facially differently figured?), but I've been that way all my life, so I've never known the anonymity of being "normal." (26 years of those darn children and their darn comments!) I'm always fascinated by stories of "normal" people becoming deformed, because I can't imagine how difficult that bitter transformation would be. I'm so sorry for what you have lost, but I'm so glad for what you have found.

I've betrayed my own face a few times for plastic surgery. It's not an easy decision. I understand. And I say that as a relatively young person who could stand to benefit so much from a new face. Every surgery for me is weeks of physical pain and months of heartache before I reach acceptance.

I can't even say for sure that I would take the magical facial transplant surgery, even if I could afford it and were guaranteed success, but I can't explain why. Perhaps it is, like you said, the feeling of being disloyal to your own face. But I think, in part, it's also the realization that plastic surgery feels like the ultimate, though unspoken, declaration of my imperfection. In order to let doctors slice and dice your face, you have to admit to yourself that you are not good enough. And if it doesn't work? You're still not good enough.

Enjoy your prosthesis! It looks like a quality piece of medical art. You can't tell at all that it's not "you."

Ebert: I just read a lot of right-wing Tweeters making fun of my appearance and my cancer, and I decided I would rather look like this than think like them.

You want ugly? For that, you have to look to a mind, not a face.

Another few gleaming tiles in the mosaic, segments of the stained-glass window, threads in the scrollable tapestry of your journey. Moving and Moving On as well. What a joy that the entries come so steadily!

I'll repeat now what I wrote after the Esquire piece came out:

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?

So clearly nothing about your appearance bothers me.

That said, the prosthetic looks quite good, and with some make-up to match your skin tone would be stunning. If it is comfortable, and you like how it looks, wear it in good health. I don't consider it vanity, at least no more than I would getting a haircut or buying a well-tailored suit. Of course aesthetics are less important than the mind or the behavior, but that doesn't make them worthless.

I'm reminded of all the French sculptors and painters who, after the Great War (1914-18) used their immense skill and pre-war photographs to fashion and paint thin metal masks for soldiers who had received wounds to the jaw and nose. The French called them "the men with broken faces." The results were surprisingly good, given the limitation in materials.

As for the more serious issue of surgery, your attitude seems sensible enough. Besides, what is a 30-hour procedure today will probably be 20 hours in three years and 12 hours in five. You aren't old, and as you point out you are cancer-free. You could have decades left. The decision can be made at any time so long as you remain healthy overall.

I confess I imagine I would be tempted in your place. I love good food, both eating it and cooking it. I cook for my wife, other family, and friends, and though I might be able to cook without actually eating (you've been quite eloquent about the idea that your friends eat for you), I can't imagine cooking without being able to taste what I am making -- that's the most important tool a cook has (or so I believe, though I admit I don't own a rice cooker). Also, I love conversing, and while you seem to have compensated quite effectively for losing your voice, typing on a keyboard (as you've noted) does not match the spontaneity of simply talking. Finally, and I say this not because I am asking you to share intimate details, but just hypothetically: kissing. Not the mere brushing of lips, but the full-on passionate kiss. I assume your current state limits that activity somewhat. If your jaw and salivary glands could be restored, I imagine the first thing you would do -- before Steak and Shake, before the first root beer -- would be to plant a long and somewhat wet one on the heroic and indomitable Chaz. That might sway the most stoic among us.

Whatever you decide and whenever you decide it, you'll have a whole community of well-wishers cheering you on regardless.

Best wishes, as always.

Great piece - you're a national treasure. Can't wait to see you on TV again...good for you!

Can I be the sole voice in FAVOR of a jaw transplant? You're happy with yourself with or without the face, so we can forget about looks as an issue. But what about the ability to eat, drink, and speak? Whenever you're presented with a shot at reclaiming something you've lost that you may have taken for granted in the past, you ALWAYS go for it.

For a long time now I've wondered if you might be fitted with some sort of prosthetic device to replace your missing mandible. You know, something insertable and removable like a set of false teeth. It might even allow you to speak, if not eat and drink, once again. However, I thought it would be too insensitive to bring it up. But, now you've broached the subject yourself. I say, go for it. Have something built that not only restores your appearance, but also some of your functionality.

Don't ask me why, but most of us feel it is a victory for all of us when one of our number overcomes some great obstacle. I wish you may someday be whole again, sir; but any improvement that satisfies you I will count as a win for humanity.

Sitting on the other side of the Atlantic with only a very occasional TV sight of you in years gone by when we were in the US on holiday - so reading this from Ebert the individual rather than Ebert the celebrity. A wonderful piece of writing describing an incredible and articulate self-awareness. Your bottle is definitely not half-empty or broken - your bottle is definitely premier cru champagne - full of life and overflowing. Thank you.

Another clever, thoughtful and fascinating piece, Roger. The old adage about a man or woman's personality and life choices showing in their face as they age holds true with you to the extent that your cheerful and inquisitive nature always seems to be apparent, pre or post surgery, with or without prosthesis. I don't mind looking at your face without the prosthesis. I could equally enjoy looking at your face with it. To a certain extent, I'd wager that late science fiction authors like Arthur C. Clarke and Douglas Adams would both be fascinated by the notion of a film critic appearing on a show with a digitally recreated voice, a straightforward prosthesis aiding his appearance and the whole show being viewable on the web or an iPad. It's all very 21st Century...

Roger,

It looks great.

Now get a haircut!

Roger, you are essential to movies. I can't think of anyone I admire more.

Anything that gets you back on camera regularly, I'm all for it, because we miss seeing you even as we enjoy reading you. TV will enable more of the world to share and appreciate all the great soul, wit and intelligence you have to offer, so please come back to it, in any form you feel comfortable with.

To quote another man of the movies: "You belong here more than we."

Please take care, (thank you Chaz) and definitely take the reins and create your own TV program. Name the time and my DVR is there!

"How did I know I'm in my head? How do any of us know? That's where my brain lives, and where my eyes sit. I am not in my chest, my hand, or my foot. I live in here, and operate all the rest like Iron Man."

That's an interesting point. I'd say most people have an inner sense of 'selfness' that's located behind the eyes, a feeling of the interior self looking out on the exterior world. Put it this way, if I find myself procrastinating about something, I don't feel particularly engrossed in my big toe; it's more a feeling of settling down into deep thoughts in my head, although I've never really given this feeling much consideration until reading your sentence above. I'm wondering, if this is just a physical reaction to the fact that our senses of sight, smell and hearing, as well as our feeling of balance and proprioception, are all located in the head, would a person who lacks some of these sensations (Helen Keller or Joe Bonham say) have a more diffuse physical feeling of self?

What is so cool about your openness regarding your struggle with cancer and its outcomes is that other people who you might never have met have come forward to offer you a way to speak and a way to recover a bit of your face through a prosthesis, if you choose. I hear not the sound of doors closing as much as the sight of doors being held open by friends. I am glad you are still looking down at the grass instead of lying beneath it.

Regarding appearances:

Why does Roger care if an American child wears an American Flag on their T-shirt while in America?

I see Roger Ebert fancies himself a patriot, yet he feels that on certain days of his choosing you should either not be allowed to wear an American Flag on your shirt or if you do dare to, you should sit at a table with kids wearing a specific Communist logo on their clothing in some fictional lunch room in the middle of summer. Question: Are you making the other kids wear the communist shirts or are they of free will to don the hammer and sickle? Where is Obama on this fascist garbage?

I would wear a mask if I were Roger Ebert, not because of his stroke or his battle with Cancer.

Simply because his absurd commentary on Social Justice is deeply perverted.

"Kids who wear American Flag t-shirts on 5 May should have to share a lunchroom table with those who wear a hammer and sickle on 4 July." Roger Ebert via Twitter

Roger,

You have a happy life, a wonderful wife, a damned Pulitzer prize, and will go down as one of the most influential writers of the last fifty years, of any kind. Did I mention you are my personal hero? Your reasons for eschewing a face transplant are noble and dignified. All that being said, let me digress. Do you remember the George Carlin bit when he said, "I figured out the secret to life on my own in third grade on my own: Not Dying!" Further more, in a line that should have won the guy a Nobel he said, "Forget all this macho bull---- about pulling the plug on me if I'm a vegetable. Leave my plug alone! If you find a hole you didn't know I had, stick a plug in it, man! Save my ass!" I have to back George on this one. You may be at peace with death, but I am not. I am also vain enough to admit that if I had the opportunity for a face transplant I'd take it in a heartbeat. Hell, if I was missing a finger I don't know if I could leave the house. Which makes you a hell of a lot braver than me. Which makes hundreds of thousands, if not millions out there a lot braver than me. In any case Roger, it's the words you write that inspire. I was never a big fan of the talk show because of the 21 minute treatment and the interruptedd sentences and the inability to edit yourself as even a great writer has to. I preferred your written words, much more intimate, more alive, more real, more emotional, smarter, everything. That's why I've read every one of your damned reviews since 1982 and will continue to do so. God bless you and your beautiful face and let the words pour forth sir!

Hello Mr. Ebert,
it's been a while since I posted anything (life has been such that silence once again seemed like the kindest and right-est thing to do), but today I'm coming out of the silence-ville to counter what you said about the "wholeness" and "normalcy", or rather, how you currently lack both.

You are no more damaged (or no less 'whole' or 'normal' for that matter) than anyone else. For I'm of the belief that we all have "disabilities" which makes us all, well, "damaged," if only in different ways and to different extents, and yes, at different levels of self-awareness.

It's just that some (like yours) are more visible, and hence more easily noticeable by both self and others, whereas some remain forever hidden under, or within (though oftentimes secretly and insidiously nibbling away at you from the inside).

So whether, to what extent and/or in what ways you (general you, not YOU you) see yourself as damaged, it shouldn't be about being normal or being whole. It should be about being different in your own wonderfully crazy way. It should be about being human.

I'm probably rambling, but that's what I’d like to believe anyway, because well, it helps me (who's most certainly "damaged") feel so much less alone.

But, I agree with Stephen Colbert who once said that "I like damaged people... damaged people are very interesting. The way they behave to cover up their damage is usually very entertaining."

And you sir, are indeed a most delightfully interesting person.
So yeah, I'll give you that. :)

That prothesis looks amazing! Wonder if I could get one made of my 25 or 30 year old face to go over my 50+ year old face. lol But, yeah, to echo other comments, hell, Roger, we're crazy about ya regardless! xoxo

I am just so so thankful you are still with us. Face it: (pun intended) whatever face you want to be going on with is cool with your fans. We just want to be privy to your take on movies and various other interesting cultural phenomena.
This is truly mind over matter. It's the person and the ideas that always are so fascinating and insightful.
But I could see where you might want to eat a good steak again. And I hope they figure out a way you can. Until then, just keep on keepin' on. You're cool.

Oh the boredom of a perfect face. With apologies to supermodels and teen heartthrobs, perfect faces may be nice to look at for a bit (and we're all a little superficial, nothing wrong with that) but when everything is as it should be, no further inquiries need be made, no further thoughts need be had. Gimme a face that has the remnant of a broken nose, the wrinkles of aging or the scars of a surgery; a face that tells a story. With my youth waning I'm finally getting to a place where my face is starting to tell the story of who I am. And I must say, for the first time I really like my face. And I like yours too Roger.

Do these surgeries cost you a lot of money?
Just curious.

Ebert: They did. Somewhat covered by health insurance.

Wow,

Roger I read that article a few weeks ago too. I thought of you while reading it and I remember thinking of whether I should tweet it or not.

I decided not to because I was afraid you would undergo the operation. What will he look like? Will we see Roger or some stranger? More importantly will Roger see Roger? What if something went wrong and God-forbid..my thoughts escalated into the worst scenarios. As they did my eyes filled with tears. If it is a success will he write the same way? If it isn't, will we all look at Roger previous (current) face as this beautiful aspect of what was and will never be again?

I know it was selfish of me not to forward the article as it's not for me to decide. But now I read this piece and learn that you did indeed read the article and you did end up with the same conclusion as I.

I will be very honest of what I felt before and after I saw you in person. I remember when I was in the airport in Qatar waiting for hours for the standby to longer be. My father was sitting next to me. He was supposed to be at work but decided to take the day off and spend the long hours at the airport with me.

We talked about a lot of things to make the time pass. Then came the prayer addan from the airport mosque. We wanted to pray together but since I had a bag, we had to go one at a time. "Please ensure that your belongings are with you at all times. Any unattended baggage will likely be confiscated and possibly damaged by airport security." The repetition of the announcement drove me nuts.

As I rested my forehead on the prayer rug, I prayed to make it to Ebertfest on time and to meet the foreign correspondents, and Roger Ebert." That's when I realized that I may actually see you and meet you.

I returned to where my father was waiting and asked, "Pipo.." That's what everyone calls him. When I was a baby I would always call him Pipo instead of Papa. The nickname stuck and his friends and family only know him as Pipo now. Anyway, back to my question. "Pipo, at work do you get to see people who have been scarred by operations and such?" My father is nuclear medicine doctor, which means he treats people with nuclear technology, scans, radiation and so forth. Most of his patients are cancer victims.

"I know where this is going. I saw Roger's picture from the magazine with Leonardo DiCaprio on the cover."

"You did? Did you read the article?", I asked

"Yes, I did. Don't worry about him. He'll be ok."

"I know but that wasn't what I wanted to ask."

"What is it then?"

"I don't know what to do when I see him? I don't care about his appearance but I care about what he'll think when I look at him. I don't want him to think that his appearance has any effect on me. Should I behave normally? He may take it as starring at him, then again, if I look away, he'll think I don't want to look at him, which isn't true."

"You think too much."

"That doesn't answer my question. How do you deal with your patients?"

"Well, it's my job to study them. I know what you want to hear. In my case I don't look at them and by that I don't mean I don't LOOK at them, I just look at the girl, boy, man or woman who needs my help. That's the way I see them, I don't see the missing nose or the sucked in cheeks and so on. These are only features of an appearance not of the human being inside. You know my friend Ramy don't you?"

"The plastic surgeon?"

"Yes. He told me once about this beautiful girl who asked for an operation. He shouldn't have due to doctor patient confidentiality but anyway he did. The way he described her was like an angel. Perfect features..perfect everything. She went to him to have a nose job. She wanted a bigger nose that would break her beauty."

"Huh? I don't understand."

"She complained that no one saw her and that her beauty blinded everyone from who she is and what she's like. Some of the most beautiful men and women in the world despise their good looks because everyone fails to look beyond their appearance. If you think of an average personality as a pearl on the floor, you can easily pick it up and reach the person in front of you. If the person is too good-looking, you'll have to swim to the bottom of an ocean to reach that pearl."

He paused for a few seconds and continued:"A few weeks ago when there was a chance for you to attend the panel discussion, I asked you whether you prepared anything and you said you didn't. You said you'd prefer your discussion to be spontaneous. You should think that way about seeing and meeting him too. The key is not to think about it"

I took the advise and changed the subject. You know the rest of the story. I'll fast forward to when we actually met.

When I saw you coming into the living room at your place, you looked at me for a brief second as if you didn't recognize me, then you looked away, and suddenly looked back. You realized who I was. I got all that from your eyes alone.

We hugged and greeted each other and I could tell that you were smiling. I surprised at the fact that how you looked had absolutely no effect on me. I realized that there was nothing to it. I knew how to act around you and look at you in an instant. I was just too happy to be there and everything was so natural, as it should have been.

I can list every incident of when you were smiling and when you were without expression or otherwise. Not just from the twirl of your eyes, I just felt it like an energy you somehow send out. It's like when I told you that my military expression expires and I won't able to meet after the festival in Chicago. I knew you were disappointed and a second later satisfied and relieved when I told you that I may visit Chicago more often since my father goes there a lot.

I can't put it into words but it's like watching Maria Falconetti in "The Passion of Joan of Arc" I knew how she felt without the need to hear dialogue. A simple gesture by you expresses so much. It's as your body language finally got a chance to be put in the spotlight. When you were disppointed, you raised your hands to the air and let them hopelessly fall on your legs. You made an entire audience laugh out loud by just pointing at perfect moments. I'm glad you made your thumbs so famous before the operation :)Your gestures mean so much right now.

Like me, you think too much of what people will think or concentrate on. They won't once they see you interact. I assure you that. Your eyes are like a window to your feelings and your gestures mean so much. People won't focus on how you look, they'll focus on what you do, how you react and what you have to say about the films that will be featured in your show.

They might observe you for a brief second at first but that's it. Then it all vanishes in thin air and they end up watching Roger, the man inside. The appliances that you will attach during the show will delete that second of observation. They look so good, you look so good with them attached; but the truth is, you look great with or without them. It's who you are and what you do and say that will grasp people's attention not a stupid scar.

For all of you wondering whether the picture at the bottom was taken before after or during the operation. I assure you it was as Roger said, on the 5th of May. The Egyptian ship model gift in the background is proof. Thank you for putting it up there :)

Your Friend from Egypt,
Wael Khairy

Roger:

My 16-year-old son just lost his two incisors yesterday in a baseball game collusion. Looking at him today, cotton clamped in mouth, dazed on vicodin, knowing he'll have to wait until he stops growing to get implants... and this, just a microcosm of what happens to some others.

C.S. Lewis wrote grief feels like fear. I get it, now.

Thank you for this essay. Indeed, the unexplainable "us" in the body, the soul -- that's the important part. But funny how we get so used to the frame we begin to think it is us.

Hope to see you soon.

Robert,

I hope u know how much we all love you. Interestingly my friends (all hard core movie geeks) and I were standing in line yesterday for the opening of Iron Man 2 and we were discussing your face from a structural standpoint. As always your gifted writing presciently answers all of our questions. Your writing is wonderful, a gift we all share, i suppose what u do with your face is up to you and Chaz, although i think the tasting might be nice to have back eventually. We do live in an impressive age. As long as you're happy...

Rick in SF

You continue to inspire after all these years.
It is a gift to "hear" your thoughts.

Roger, you are tough as nails. I'm convinced that if nuclear weapons were to decimate the planet, the only living things left would be cockroaches--and Roger Ebert, writing reviews of the tiny motion pictures the roaches make.

All the best to you and Chaz.

Roger, every a.m. when I look in the mirror I marvel and/or cringe at some of the changes occurring in my aging face tempered by 62 years now.

In fact, some early mornings when the sandy shit stubbornly sticks to my eyes, I'm not even sure for a few seconds that I'm looking at me, but of course I am.

Your blog entry on the relationship between face and identity made me think of a favorite Stephen Crane poem...

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter-bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

In the early 70's my father had a near critical industrial accident at an auto factory in Detroit. The doctors at Henry Ford Hospital saved his life, but the head trauma was severe and damaged his brain. To save his life the nuerosurgeons had to release pressure on his brain, and the resulting stiches made his head look like an oversized softball. The curve of the flaps sewn back into place followed the same arc and stiching pattern you would see on a baseball. It is possible to recover from was a few decades earlier would have been a fatal accident, and even when it is not a 100% recovery, the survivor is generally glad to just be alive one more day.

I think your writing has improved, or I appreciate it more now so it seems to have improved. When you were away, recovering, I checked this site frequently to see when you would return. There are certain characters in the global culture we hope will be there all of the time, who enrich our lives with their art/craft, yet we are always slapped with mortality.

It is good to see you happy. It was good to see my father happy again for a few more years after he recovered as much as could be expected.

I whimper like a baby at the thought of going to the dentist. Being a coward I have no real right to an opinion about a procedure which, to my mind, entails great courage on your part.
But please don't do it.

Just wanted to say that you're a braver and probably better man than I am. And that the girlfriend says your new face is sexy. You bastard.

Mr. Veach:

"Your post reminds me of a novel I read a few months back, Oscar Wilde's "The Picture of Dorian Gray" &c.,

One thinks Mr. Ebert has, in his 67 years, found time between, say, between taking his degree at Urbana and winning the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism, to read Wilde's seminal novel.

Ebert: It helps if you think of yourself as neither Dorian Gray nor the portrait, but as the artist.

Amazing prosthesis. It is remarkable what can be done with that technology these days...

I was struck by this statement: //How did I know I'm in my head? How do any of us know? That's where my brain lives, and where my eyes sit. I am not in my chest, my hand, or my foot. I live in here, and operate all the rest like Iron Man. And in here, I still imagine the same face, no matter what you see.//

This to me seems to go to the center of what we humans call "identity"... or even deeper to the idea of existence. We all try to find a place in the world, but what of a place within ourselves? How do we locate ourselves on a sort of mental map? We project ourselves out onto the world, but we neglect to realize that we project ourselves onto our own bodies as well. It is our minds that make us who we are, but those minds do seem so preoccupied with its appearance to itself and to others... Your passage made me think, and I will look into what I believe about this through my art... You are an inspiration, not in a hallmark card sense, but in the sense that you inspire me to more thought and through that to greater action. Thank you

Ebert: That line, out of the whole piece, is the one the most people have mentioned. I was painfully self-conscious of body image when young. Oddly enough, during years when I was, frankly, fat, something clicked off, and I found self-esteem in places other than the mirror.

Mr. Ebert, I'd just like to say that you're my hero and a wonderful human being. I don't know why exactly, but this article moved me in ways that few do. Congratulations.

Reconnecting nerves, though... I thought nerves were the big barrier to this sort of thing. Beyond feeling, which I think would still not be there most likely, I'd also wonder about muscle control.

That surgery also sounds catastrophic, with all kinds of things that could go wrong.

If re-attaching nerves is something we can do and get decent results from, I'd be happy. The article mentions immune response, but not how attaching nerves and having them function might even work. Would it simply be to keep stuff alive?

Ebert: Microsurgery includes nerve endings.

As much as everyone tells you that your appearance doesn't matter...it does, at least to yourself. You perceive yourself to be one way and suddenly it's all different! I can't imagine how hard that would be. This has nothing to do with vanity but with self perception. The prosthetic looks terrific and I hope it makes you feel better.
I think the secret of your success Roger is not only the fact that you are a born writer but have always had a very likeable quality for a critic.
That's the thing that gave you the edge over Gene for me personally.
I wish Cancer had a face so I could punch it!

I'm a lucky cancer survivor and sometimes worry myself over a slight sagging gut that resulted from my surgery. You, sir, are an inspiration. It truly is better to feel good than look good. I am so pleased that you do feel good....so do I and reading your blog makes me feel even better. All the best to you and Chaz!

"Everyone is beautiful when they look at you with love in their eyes."

Love may be ignited by appearance, but the fuel is a natural resource.

I just got through watching Pan's Labyrinth, and rushed over to check to see if you had done a review, and yes you had, and yes you named it a great movie. Yes, not only that but you also said The Queen was a great one. It is so good to know that someone shares my feelings about certain movies and expresses his opinion so well. Not sure what this has to do with your face, but I see such happy eyes, and I am so glad that you are still just that!

With or without the prosthetic or a transplant, yours is a beautiful and brave face.

I'd never read anything you'd written until I learned about the man who interviewed you for Esquire, through HuffPost, I believe.. Once I finished that article, I found my way here, and have read every word you wanted to write since then.

As a 66 year old widower I find your writing compelling, accessible, and of great interest,for you share with us your journey through loss, pain, and chaos to an acceptance of what is, and a distillation of what matters, and where that propels you.

I tank you for your willingness to share this process.

With regards to both the face transplant procedures and the prosthesis I say this:

The outside of you (that is, your skin and what it looks like) is your identity, where as the inside (the bones, muscle, and organs) are your engine.

I have no qualms about replace muscle, bone, or organ tissue because you're in essence, fixing your engine. No vehicle will run without an engine.

But a face transplant (much like plastic surgery for cosmetic reasons) makes me uncomfortable. There are very few good reasons to have the procedure done that do not stem from severe insecurities or depression. Even though the face would look better, it is not their true face. Therefore, they would strike me as extremely phony.

Again, my only exception is if it is done for medical reasons (such as the man you mentioned who only had half of a face). Surgery is meant to get someone as close to 100% functionality as possible, not to reach a mythical standard of beauty, which I feel is phony and pretentious anyway.

You look like you, but then again you always did. You could always look in the mirror and "this is me, this is what I look like now." As you aged, your face still looked like you. When you lost your jaw, you still looked like you. With a prosthesis, its you with a prosthesis. Even when people get plastic surgery it's still them, only with a little less of a nose, or with a virus in their face.

It's comforting for all but the most self loathing to look in the mirror and be able to draw a direct line from who you were to who you are now. For one to willingly loose their face, the record of their lives, due to anything but a great medical need is inconceivable to me. On some level waking up and looking like Nicholas Cage, John Travolta, or being pressured to pick Number 9 is one of the worst horrors I can imagine.

ebert: "In other words, I could be whole again."

voza: "you're way more whole than the most physically beautiful people will ever hope to be, even if they had the mental capacity to know they weren't whole."

If you needed a new face, Roger, all of your readers and friends would happily donate part of theirs and your new face would reflect our collective admiration for you.

You're fine the way you are Roger, don't change a thing.

Unless it's some kind of health issue that needs to happen or if you truly feel you want to go through with it; I wouldn't bother.

It's your personality, heart and spirit that is important not what you look like in the mirror; and from what I can tell that's already intact. So why fix something that's not broken? Huh? Give me one reason.

Thanks for continuing with the movie reviews, we (and I) really appreciate it!

Is it true Roger, as they say, that vanity is the first thing to go?

The only reason why I would want you to have a transplant would be so that you could record more DVD commentaries, (I watched Citizen Kane 3x in one day) but obviously I don't think that that is reason enough. Since speaking/eating again aren't your #1 priorities, I also agree that you should keep your face--and even though it is damaged, its still yours.

When faces are discussed, Liv Ullmann always comes to mind. I'm taken by the way that her face has changed, and aged throughout the years--but still has remained the same. I'll never forget when I first saw 'Saraband,' and I couldn't believe that she was just as beautiful as she had been in 'Scenes from a Marriage.' Unlike most film stars, she wears her life on her face--and it is truly beautiful.

I realize how YOU feel about your looks is paramount,but as for your fans, you could put a paper bag over your head. We love your brilliant mind.Oh, and Mr.Brilliant:don't forget to cut out eye and mouth holes-it works a lot better that way-it always has for me.

Roger you sre a beautiful, beautiful man. You speak to the mind, and more importantly to the heart with amazing, simplistic insight. I treasure your words and value your wisdom, in life and movies.

Ha ha Roger. I've been reading your reviews for 20 years an have been an avid television critic.

I don't give a monkeys about your looks. Your criticism is more valuable than any wayward potential audience. A starfish any less its limbs can still spew sweet debris. We're all lucky to be here.

To be audience, I have to say your writing has been much more concise lately though. It has a very rich dare I say Jack Vance quality that previously it had lacked in my opinion. Perhaps I'm wrong.

Do your show man.

What I've read is that nerve grafting is often problematic due to scarring of the damaged tissue, that this scarring blocks pathways even if they're properly aligned, preventing the nerves from transmitting the necessary signals.

My wife tells me that it's not so much re-attaching nerves in this case so much as letting his healthy nerves that are still part of the base tissue to regrow into the channels of the newly introduced tissue, which is a huge difference.

I'm still a bit mystified, but I guess that just illustrates the gap between where science is and what the rest of us learn through science reporting.

Wow, and more wow. You know that there are scores of people who do amazing prosthetic work for film, television and the stage. I remember when I worked at NBC New York and just going up to the 8th floor and chatting with the people who did the "quick and dirty" makeup for SNL and other shows. They and their Hollywood brethren are rightfully proud of their work, and you must have paid homage to them at one point or another in your career.
Now on to medical prosthetics. Take the art and craft aspects of what showbiz people do, and add the scientific element. Plus the fact that the recipient will be wearing the device for everyday use, not just for a scene or a day. It's truly remarkable what can be done with what is now easily available. I can only imagine how someone such as a war veteran's life could be brightened with the magic that these people can accomplish.
Mr. Ebert, we still hear your voice. And it's coming in louder and clearer than anything on WGN 720.

As good as the prothesis looks Roger, I wish TV audiences could be like the people who surrounded you in Ebertfest and which I noticed, didn´t give a damn about what you looked like but instead about who you were.

looks pretty good. i really dont much care how you look as long as you are ok with it. i just like your reveiws and books. (although lately you have let me down sometimes, cant win em all i guess)i am kinda of a fatty so i think not having my cheesburgers would be difficult. anyway you seem like a good guy and as i say i have been a fan for a long time and will continue to do so.

"This was a rare case where 2D would not have been preferable."

Hahahahahaha...that was great!

I think you´re on the right track. If you have to wear prosthetics to look "better" on TV, ok, go ahead. I, for one, fell happy to be able to continue to read you every week.

Good luck.

I really like your new chin. (Although it doesn't entirely match your complexion.)

Ebert: It does with a little makeup. I hate makeup. My chin doesn't mind it.

Well, Roger, I think with or without a prosthesis, the way your face is now, it always looks as if you're standing with your mouth open, agape with wonder and suprise. As a regular reader of your blog, to me that 'expression' fits with the wide ranging topics you cover in this blog. It's as if through what you write, you're always examining the world in wonder, and the 'look' on your face matches that approach.

Steve Jobs got a new liver by using his connections, and his considerable wealth. This is a simple fact when you examine just how many sicker people died after waiting far longer than Jobs did. A co-worker of mine had been on the waiting list for a liver longer than Jobs had even been sick, and he died still waiting for that liver that never came. I guess because Jobs is an outspoken liberal he gets a free pass from you? If someone you disliked had stolen a liver from a dying person, you would have devoted an entire blog entry to it. You bleeding-hearts are all the same. The rules only apply to everyone else. Pathetic.

Ebert: If you read carefully, I was in favor of transplants, not Steve Jobs. You move so effortlessly into sweeping generalizations.

Yes, Jobs is a liberal, and look at these huge campaign donations:

http://j.mp/91Hft4

BTW, know who's a big Mac fan? http://j.mp/c3DOTs

@ Wael Khairy on May 8, 2010 1:01 PM

Beautiful comment, Wael. Now you're making me impatient for Ebertfest 2011, when we can finally meet. :-)

Roger, Wael mentioned to me yesterday that you tweeted my comment to this post. I don't have Twitter, but I was able to check your recent tweets and see that it was true (not that I doubted Wael, mind you). I think this just shows that you're a more whole person that most people whose bodies are intact. I mean, we have never met, and yet you singled out my comment for all of your other readers to read. And you've done similar acts of kindness for other readers whom you've never met, too. Thank you. I was very touched.

As for those right-wing Tweeters, I pity them. They have to live with themselves everyday.

A new show?! Yay. Can I watch it online or should I keep the @#$%& television?

There's a story in the Smithsonian magazine archive about a London facial prosthetics studio that fitted disfigured WWI veterans with amazing paper-thin masks held on by eyeglass earpieces. http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/mask.html?c=y&page=1#

The accompanying photos, before and after, are beautiful. Like your essays and the images of your face, they show the outward evidence of people in the lifelong process of learning to be.

Ebert: That article and the video were very interesting to me, and I sent it to David and Julie.

You look... fine! Happy. And as said upthread, your eyes are those of a contented man.

Since you came on the Twitter scene, it seems as if you're fighting for your life with words, and winning. Please do go on.

What matters is the work. You're doing it, and you're ready to carry on doing it in a more visual medium with this prosthesis. Glad to see it's a good fit for you.

I've grown to treasure your apt little commentaries on memorable meals and interesting stuff you've found on the Internets, too. So don't stop documenting wonderful things, people, and stories.

Roger, you look pretty good to me just as you are. Our society has come to value physical appearance to an absurd degree. When a 23-year old, already conventionally beautiful "actress" feels she needs to have major, um, plastic (intentionally using that word in the sense we did in the late 60s/70s) surgery to make herself "perfect", we can reasonably opine that our collective sense of perspective in this regard has become sadly skewed.
I've always thought you were a pleasant-looking guy when you appeared regularly on the Tee-vee. And I would venture that few tuned in expressly to gaze upon thine countenance in awe. What we legions of your admirers 'see' is a nimble and, yes, beautiful mind at work. Physical beauty, as the saying has it, is only skin deep. Yours is much deeper, my friend.

A chin prosthesis is just the southern hemisphere equivalent of a comb-over. A professional necessity when appearing as a talking head! Otherwise the audience is distracted by something visual that really doesn't matter.

I think you are beautiful and I love you even more after your Tweet to John Mayer.

Your face looks good man.
I'd totally make out.

Mr. Ebert
I am happy to hear that you will not be going through such a risky, difficult, and time consuming surgery. I am also glad to know that you will be having a prosthetic for the show. No offense but "a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down." But most of all I can not wait to see you on TV again. I have grown up watching you and I have always benefited from your thoughtful reviews, and essays.
Thank you for making the right decision
Jared Busby

Bless you, you are an inspiration!

I can share....having lost my jaw finally after 4 cancer attacks on my throat & jaw. I'm left with half a face. So I told the doc after the last surgery..."know what my favorite movie is?" He said "what?"...I replied "jaws".
I don't waste time regretting what i lost...I haven't eaten any solid food in 10 years, though i can see and smell it.
I am grateful to the Good Lord for the faith & strength to appreciate what i have. My wife, and all my family, a new great grandson & especially love from strangers who don't shy away from me. Most of all, another day with Ebert!
Nothing funnier than looking in the mirror and saying: Beauty ain't the half of it...lol.

Ebert: That's the idea.

I can barely smell, but to tell you the truth, there are times when I'm glad of that. Visiting the Steak n Shake with my Far Flung Correspondents was one of those times. I was thisclose to a Steakburger and couldn't smell it, and although it looked attractive. I didn't feel the old need. Smell must have more to do with appetite than I realized.

You know?

Maybe showing yourself regularly on your review program wouldn't be so bad of an idea. Even if it's out of a robot voice, or something. People might be weirded out at first, but then you'd really garner some interest. And if your words are of merit--I read them most every day, so they are--then people can't help but listen.

Roger, I was wondering if you have ideas on how your appearances on the show would be filmed. Would you look directly into the camera while your voice plays and do your best to synchronize with it? Or would you just keep still while your voice is in "telepath" mode?

Just get the surgery during one of those weeks when you don't have anything better to do.

"I hear your voice very day. I remember what it sounds like, and the way you write, every word comes through to me in your Ebert voice. Good luck with whatever you decide to do. I think you're better than ever."

Very well put, and EXACTLY what I was thinking. When I read Ebert, I hear his voice loud and clear, I know the exact inflection and tone he'd be using, I hear it as clearly as if he was speaking to me a few feet away.

I think Ebert's writing and opinions have only gotten better and more powerful since his health problems. There's been no "jump the shark" issues with this guy, as you commonly see with other creative people when they get older. He only gets better, more insightful, more thoughtful, and more biting when it calls for it. I love the guy, he's not just the world's most famous movie critic, he's one of our great writing voices, he's an American treasure. I hope he never stops writing.

Just don't forget the Brazilian model who died during surgery to re-shape her buttocks: not a good reason to die. If the surgery is just to make you look more acceptable to us, fogettaboutit. If you could eat real food and quickly make jokes, maybe it would be worth it. I had a mother's day buffet with raw oysters, strawberries dipped in a chocolate fountain, etc. Decide if surgery is worth it to have that and Dr. Pepper etc.

Have you ever considered just wearing a beard? Or putting a beard on the prosthetic? If it's done right, it could even look natural.

Like a previous poster said, everything that I read from you I hear spoken in your voice, the voice that I grew up listening to. The prosthetic looks great, but if you were back on TV spreading your love of film, I wouldn't care how much of a face you had. Your spirit is more infectious now than it ever has been.

I like you as you are. It's your body and your choice--if there's one thing disability has taught me, it's that no one else has full access to what it's like to live within a body that's different or in pain.

The long interview/article about you was moving--even without a literal voice, you're in a unique position to speak up for many others, and I believe that your writing has already succeeded in making people more tolerant of difference.

Ebert: I just read a lot of right-wing Tweeters making fun of my appearance and my cancer, and I decided I would rather look like this than think like them.

You want ugly? For that, you have to look to a mind, not a face.

---Oh yeh. Hi-school, we'd sing Zappa's "What's the ugliest part of your body? Some say your nose, some say your toes, I think it's your mind."

You want we should go in and bust up them right wing creepos for ya, Rodge?

Well, let's bust this cretin up. So this is the kind of schizophrenia you've been rec'ng?

By R.M. on May 8, 2010 8:37 AM

Regarding appearances:

Why does Roger care if an American child wears an American Flag on their T-shirt while in America?

---Why should this loony-binner's fantasies count for anything?

I see Roger Ebert fancies himself a patriot, yet he feels that on certain days of his choosing you should either not be allowed to wear an American Flag on your shirt or if you do dare to, you should sit at a table with kids wearing a specific Communist logo on their clothing in some fictional lunch room in the middle of summer.

---Who is this really? Is it Emily Litella, wrong-headed girl clown from SNL?

Question: Are you making the other kids wear the communist shirts or are they of free will to don the hammer and sickle? Where is Obama on this fascist garbage?

---Emily, is God making you imagine being raped repeatedly every night, or are you imagining it all by yourself? And are you secretly enjoying it?

I would wear a mask if I were Roger Ebert, not because of his stroke or his battle with Cancer.

---"R.M." will do, another phony baloney coward who skitters in, scribbles a few fake accusations with cockroach legs, then skitters back out.

Simply because his absurd commentary on Social Justice is deeply perverted.

---Simply because Emily, here, has no other life but to imagine perversions crawling gleefully up her leg. It's fun sometimes, ain't it, Em?

"Kids who wear American Flag t-shirts on 5 May should have to share a lunchroom table with those who wear a hammer and sickle on 4 July." Roger Ebert via Twitter

---I put it in bold this time because maybe you don't read so good, Emily. When Illiterate Welfare Hillbillies like you finally weaken this system enough so that the La Raza soldiers start invading, I'm using you for a sandbag. It'd be the first time in your life you'd be useful for something.

Aloha Roger,

Thank you for sharing this with us. A very good friend of ours has lower mouth cancer and is preparing yet again for surgery (due to the metal in his chin sticking out and exposing him to infections). His surgery is scheduled for May 18th. If you have a chance, a kind word from you would mean the world to him. He posted above: "By Brian Burnet on May 7, 2010 3:56 PM." I tried contacting you via Twitter with this request, but I imagine you are inundated with tweets from loyal followers like me.

Thanks so much for sharing yourself with us. I agree with some of the postings above: Your voice has never been more powerful and eloquent.

With aloha,
Elizabeth

Why can't you just admit you effed up with the whole Cinco De Mayo debacle. If your intention is to come across as anti-American, you win. Just tell us that's how you feel...so we know for sure.

Roger, you simply cannot have a full face transplant. I know that it's what's on the inside that counts (and you have such wonderful thoughts that you share with us regularly), but it would just be too "Arsenic and Old Lace" of you. A man with a face that's not his own is just too off-putting. However, I think that the prosthetic looks wonderful. Good luck with your new show!

hi Roger - I am glad you are doing well and bravely. When I was a copy editor and Quark dude at a daily several years ago, we subscribed to your writing, and on nights when the paper wasn't that big, I would stealthily goof off and read some of your long overview pieces, a Walter Matthau piece being the one that I remember enjoying. Of course EICs rarely give you ample room to run those kinds of features, c'est la vie..

Given a choice from all the faces of past and present which one does one choose? Obvious, since it's the closest fit! Anyway, faces come and faces go, but life goes on forever!

Came to your site after reading of the sadly predictable comments made by right-wing prairie dung about your condition. Had a look at your spot-on 'Iron Man 2' review (saw it yesterday at a theatre in Melbourne, Australia, where I live) and then this column.

I'm a writer. My fingertips have hovered over this laptop keyboard for the past 20 minutes. Words ain't coming. Your soul and selflessness swamp my ability to respond with anything but praise for your talent, admiration for your courage, and appreciation for all you've contributed to the cultural consciousness of my generation. Your voice is important, Mr Ebert. Your voice is alive. Please continue to share it, in whatever form suits you best.

I wish you and Chaz a lifetime of loveliness.

Personally, I would love to hear you speak again. But whatever decision you choose I'll support it!

Holy cow!

I am so out of the loop; chuckle!

I've been on a secret-mission for the Ebert Club (don't ask) and now that I've found what I was looking for (don't ask) I'm just today getting around to reading your newest journal entry!

Hey, that prosthetic thingy is pretty cool! You must like how it turned out, eh? As it's a nice fit; the line flows naturally into your cheek bone area. They did a good job!

Meanwhile... I can see the Venetian glass pen box on the mantle! Smile. And you've got a book titled "Wicked City" on the coffee table and in the far window, what appears to be street signs; Siskel & Ebert and Roger Ebert. I think I can also see a painting by Gillian Ayres. In the living room there's a cardboard box "TO DAVE" and a DVD case underneath something stuff called "The Last...." that's it.

I think it's neat that dudes in Edinburgh are working on your voice; maybe they can toss in a second copy with a Scottish accent. :)

"Right you are, Miss Money Penny.."

At least I can see how you could have some fun with that.

Smile.

Anyhoo, as irony would have it, I'm about to watch Citizen Kane with your commentary "on" - the library had the DVD. Gee, I hope it won't be too distracting... :)

A tough but IMO wise choice, turning down the additional surgeries. You appearance should be (and I'm sure was) far down on the list of priorities for making that decision. Not being able to talk is much bigger, but I remain convinced that emerging technologies will increasingly compensate for that.

I also applaud the way you've been proactive in deciding for yourself what the medical community can and cannot do with (and to) you.

A tough but IMO wise choice, turning down the additional surgeries. You appearance should be (and I'm sure was) far down on the list of priorities for making that decision. Not being able to talk is much bigger, but I remain convinced that emerging technologies will increasingly compensate for that.

I also applaud the way you've been proactive in deciding for yourself what the medical community can and cannot do with (and to) you.

I love your comment about Michael Caine.

After "Pretty Woman", Julia Roberts was my crush for many years.

There were others before her and more since.

However, it's been a long time since there was a single actress who embodied the perfect woman to me.

It boils down to one thing that I have learned as I've gotten older. True beauty is not perfection. Beauty is in our imperfections. It is in the mole on the back of your neck, or the way one of your ears seems a little bit larger than the other. Our imperfections make us unique and memorable.

Thanks for the reminder.

Dave
@dumbricht on twitter

Back when I worked as a psychiatric social worker in a county hospital I came in to the "psych ward" for work one morning and glimpsed, in the double paned window of the door to the locked ward, the most shockingly disfigured face on a human being I had ever seen. Even the Hollywood horror mills had not, up to that time, the late 70's, come up with a make up job so not-human. My job was to interview the human inside this...this "mess" of a face. He was a black man, his face looked like stirred up chocolate pudding, nothing made any sense, eyes displaced, a nose nearly gone, a mouth twisted into an angular scar. I expected to hear only guttural animalistic sounds to come out in response to my questions...in fact, I didn't even want to be involved with this creature. But it was my job after all, I would have to be "heroic" about it. The truth of the matter turned out to be something entirely different than my expectation, my fear. The man had been disfigured in a fire and ropy keloid scars had formed all over his face but inside....inside, and just writing about this now brings up my own tears, inside was the beautiful mind and heart of a truly courageous man, a man who could find no employment or friend. A man condemned to wander from place to place to try to find some acceptance somewhere and in this wandering, hitchhiking in fact, he was regularly picked up by police, for surely this kind of "ugliness" was an indication of evil, and, finding no fault in him (no warrants for arrest) they would take him to the nearest psych ward, because if he wasn't evil surely he must be insane. (In the best cases, he related to me, a few officers with compassion were simply acting in his best interests assuming the best options would be found with mental health professionals). From state to state, all across the country, this had become his experience. He expected this response and was not angry or put out by any of it. From inside that "distortion" he saw very clearly the hearts of others. We got him a ticket on a bus so he could reach his destination, California as I recall, and I always remembered him as one of the most wonderful people I have ever met in my life, a man of courage, love, and acceptance of all things human. All things. I pray everyday to keep my heart open and alive to all humanity, no matter how much distortion I may perceive or project out of my own fears of "difference". Love from this Oz to yours Roger, you are a blessing in form and substance.

Ebert:I was painfully self-conscious of body image when young. Oddly enough, during years when I was, frankly, fat, something clicked off, and I found self-esteem in places other than the mirror.
I'm a teenager and it is really hard at times to look at myself in the mirror and not care care about every little detail that I think could be fixed. Maybe its because I do enjoy film so much that I compare myself all the time to the people we see on the screen. But nevertheless people are starting to care less about what the person enjoys doing nowadays and more about what their waist size is. I think since you do have such a strong voice you really don't need a new face for people to "hear" you.

I'm reminded of a favorite quote of mine.

"Great men are seldom over-scrupulous in the arrangement of their attire." -Charles Dickens

Probably the most precious, and the hardest thing to obtain, is to be happy in one's own skin. Obviously you had little choice, your cancer dictated it, as illness so often does. I only hope I could be as brave and as honest with myself if I were in your shoes.

Roger, this is off-topic, so feel free not to post (I don't mean to derail this threat). On the t-shirts issue, obviously the terseness of tweeting has its hazards. But one thing I'd like to point out is, on American soil, I think a *veteran* can always wear an American flag t-shirt. Obviously that wouldn't apply to the kids in question. But I don't care if it's Cinco de Mayo or any other day, those who have served can always wear the flag. Reasonable?

So many things come to mind on this topic...

- Bill Veeck lost part of his leg at Guadalcanal; as he got older he lost more and more of it through infections. By the end of his life he only had a couple of inches of thigh left.And still we all saw him tramping aound the city on his peg leg, paying no heed to the seasons.
In his book, Bill made a point of how he hated the word "handicapped", considering it to be a euphemism, and inaccurate to boot; he cited a dictionary definition, "to place at a disadvantage", which he didn't believe he was. The word Bill Veeck always used - the only word he used - was "crippled".
*wonder what he would have made of "differently abled"?*

- The first time I ever read about medical prosthetics was in Frank Westmore's biography of his family, who were collectively the pioneers of movie makeup.
Frank, the youngest of the six brothers who practically had a monopoly on the makeup chairs at the major Hollywood studios, told the story of how his brother Wally designed a realistic-looking artificial hand for Harold Lloyd to disguise his lost fingers. At the book's end he told of how three nephews, the sons of his oldest brother Mont, were spending their off-hours from film jobs in developing cosmetic techniques for victims of fires and other disfigurements.
So you see, you're just following in a great Hollywood tradition.

- Putting my acid reflux at risk, I decided to visit the Big Hollywood website to see what John Nolte and his merry band of commenters were putting out. It came as no surprise that they don't much like you over there, but the sheer scabrousness of the comments was appalling, even by the rock-bottom standards of a political blog. (Does Nolte actually moderate this site? Does anybody?)
I admit to being tempted to post a reply, for what little good it might do, but obviously this site is into 'choir practice'; only true right-wingers need apply. Every so often Nolte will print someone expressing very mild disapproval of the vitriol, but for every one of those, he puts up a bunch that would draw embarrassed winces at a frat house kegger.

-As to your Tweet that started the whole mess: to me it stands as the most profound indictment of Twitter as a form of communication.
Face it, Rog: 140 characters (including spaces) just plain isn't enough.
Too much gets left out, overcondensed, or outright missed.
Better to take the time, use all the words, and make the point properly.
*not that the Nolteans will actually take the time to listen (or read)*

- I wonder what would happen if Mr. Nolte should happen to read these comments of mine.
Do you think he might be moved to respond directly (even to a nobody such as myself)?
True Believers are like that, you know.
The whole idea that they might be disagreed with is an affront to their gargantuan egos.
Still, it might be amusing to see my unknown self branded a "lefty" just because I defended the likes of Ebert.
Then again, I suppose I'd have to take time to point out that I'm no fan of the left either (which point Nolte would likely dismiss).
Lose-lose, no matter what.
This is why growing numbers of people hate base-driven politics.
Take heed, everyone: the British election is only the beginning.

- In closing, a limerick attributed to President Woodrow Wilson, after suffering a stroke which partially paralyzed his face:

As a beauty I am not a star.
There are others more comely by far.
But my face, I don't mind it
For I am behind it;
It's the people in front get the jar!

Enjoy your masquerade!

I've long admired the integrity and confidence you display in these self-exposing blog entries. You really needn't worry though; bar only bequiffed Mark Kermode and understatedly good-looking Manohla Dargis I would still consider you among the handsomest critics around.
As for your voice; ever since I first heard that lovely piece you made for Isao Takahata's "Grave of the Fireflies", your inflections and pitch have been etched into my memory.
I read nigh every blog and review of yours, and those intonations kick in like clockwork each time.
- Still looking (or rather listening) forward to see (hear) what Cereproc conjures up!

Regardless, I agree with Mr. Morgan a few comments above me on the suggestion of a beard. Not for the purpose of hiding anything. Only, beards are nice.
I defer to Daniel Day-Lewis in "My Left Foot".
Now that's a BEARD!

Due to deployments (Iraq and Afghan), I had not known the challeges you have faced, and mind you, in my opinion, very bravely. I grew up with you in At the Movies, Siskel and Ebert, etc.

Despite all, you have a talent that should never go silent.

Love you Mr. Ebert. I look forward one day to shake your hand. It'll be my honor.

Losing your lower jaw will never make you any less of an icon to those of us who love to read and write.

"I feel it would be an act of disloyalty to my own face."

I would not presume to advise you on these matters, but I do wonder if your face was as interested in reciprocating the above sentiment.

Roger, saw this today and thought you'd appreciate it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_W_szJ6M-kM&feature=player_embedded

Indeed, living in the DC Metro area, my wife and I unfortunately have to tolerate a great deal of Tea Party morons on a weekly basis. And there is no surer way to get a real glimpse into their hearts than listen to the comments they make toward people they dislike or just disagree with. It's not a case of a "few bad apples", this is a consistent common trait among them.

Their comments to you are deplorable and show the true ugliness in their hearts and minds. And sadly, such comments are all too common from them. I've witnessed roving bands of Tea Partiers making rude mocking remarks about kids, for godsake, because the kids are black or Latino and seem dressed in a way indicated lower economic status.

So just remember the nature of the people making those remarks to you, and the nature of the people at whom they tend to direct such remarks -- you're in good company, and getting criticism and insults from exactly the people you want disliking you, trust me.

While I've read many of the posts in this thread, I haven't had time to hit all of them--busy writing a book. However, my views align with those of pretty much everyone else: you look fine as you are.

Not only have we all grown accustomed to your appearance (which was a bit of a shock at first, of course--I well remember when you first posted that black and white photo of yourself both pre-op and post-op with the tube projecting from your neck/throat), but we now view it as normal for you. The normalcy of it is based entirely on your decision not to hide, which is tremendously heartening to anyone, and must be enormously moreso for people with their own facial "differences."

I thought of this the other day when stumbling across a video of the victim of the chimpanzee attack on Oprah. Here is a woman whose face has essentially vanished ... and she is blind is as well. Having lost her hands, she likely cannot even feel what remains of her face, it was an amazingly brave act for her to allow Oprah to raise her veil in front of millions. So many people with facial problems hide themselves away that society can't readjust its definition of "normal" when they are included. We must see them in order for them to be part of our visual vocabulary.

In Shanghai some years ago I saw a person missing three of four limbs and with a face and body burned into an image the likes of which I have never seen outside of the most extreme horror films. But of course this was real, and unlike most people on the street I stopped and watched as the person, begging, dragged himself along on a wheeled wooden board with what remained of his one hand.

While there are always going to be people offended by what they perceive as ugliness intruding into their cocooned existence, fortunately they are few and their group is growing smaller as the years pass.

Chin? No chin? Who gives a shit: it'll still be you, Roger, either way. After a few shows, people will stop thinking about your chin rather than your reviews, just as we have on this blog. I'm optimistic about my fellow humans.

Dear Roger,

You are a work of art! I love you this way, that way, and any other way.

Do what you want, but keep on writing, keep on writing. Good luck with your new movie review program. I'll watch it, I'll listen to it, whatever.

"... don't change a hair for me, not if you care for me."

Love from a constant fan since the Siskel days.

I like your face because its your face. I'm sorry you can't eat the way you used to ,but space, the last frontier.I would miss you terribly if you were not here thinking ,explaining how you think and what you find valuable and useless . Please remain in contact with us all,I need you

Man, you didn't like Fight Club, Roger?! I didn't remember that. Looking back, do you like it more? I thought it was good when I first saw it 11 years ago, and as time progresses that feeling never goes away like it does with most movies. I'm not sure there will ever be another movie quite like it.

I started listening to The Diane Rehm Show several years ago. You may know she has a condition which renders her speaking voice rather gravelly and sometimes quavery. It took me 2 or three shows to become a forever fan, and now I don't even notice anything about her voice. She's just Diane Rehm, a smart, classy lady that I enjoy listening to.

I would love for you to consider doing a show sans prosthesis(although, I'm not sure if that is entirely up to you within the bounds of contracts, networks and advertisers). We need to get over not wanting to see what is. Photoshopping already physically gorgeous specimens, plastic surgery to tweak the nose a bit, clothes that visually slim, magazines in grocery store lines promising pictures of cellulite...our culture is obsessed and no one wins. As a person who is considered attractive by the current standards of US society, I can say that "beauty" has its own cons and I am personally sick of the weight physical "beauty" is given. Some things are just annoying(How many times do I want to turn down the offer to buy the cup of coffee I'm getting? Sounds like no big whup[or like a problem anyone would like to have], until you realize no place is safe from being hit on...the gym, the coffee shop, the grocery store.). Some things really cheese me off(Like watching a person who was helping someone else in a store drop the other customer quickly so as to help me, it's not what I want...I want everyone to be treated respectfully.). Some things scare me(Do I depend on my looks more than I realize? Will my identity survive aging?). I hope to have cultivated enough of an inner life for aging to be a wonderful experience. I hope to have loved well and fully, with appearance not on my list of desirable attributes in a friend. If you do the show prosthesis free, people will just get used to something different than what they're used to...And a step forward might be made towards accepting ALL differences. When we look at statistically how successful the more "beautiful" among us are, I think we need just your kind of gorgeousness to help prove that minds and hearts are the more important and accurate criteria to use. Not that it's your job to be the poster child for accepting differences. Obviously, it's your life and choice.

Have you read "Invisible Monsters" by Chuck Palahniuk? Physical "beauty" has its own burdens in this culture. I found it to be a sweet, ultimately uplifting book. Palahniuk has said he is not a nihilist, but a romantic.

I'll repeat what others have said...you are beautiful, I like your face and I hope you continue to have good health.

I don't have anything very highbrow to say just this- I like you just the way you are.