By Anthony Kuzminski
In the late summer, it was announced that At The Movies would undergo a change or format and hosts. For the first time in over thirty-years, Roger Ebert would not be on television weekly discussing film. Even though surgeries have sidelined him for the last two-years, his spirit still embodied the show. For a kid who has lived in Chicago his entire life and started watching Siskel and Ebert before my 4th Birthday, this evokes a sense of closure the same way I felt when Michael Jordan, Walter Payton, and Ryne Sandberg retired. While Ebert’s writing career (I hope) is far from over, I can’t help but feel a tad nostalgic that I’ll no longer see his face on a weekly basis. Why? It’s time for me to tell you a story…of Roger and Me.
College was traumatic time for me. There’s so simple and plain way to explain it except that there were a multitude of obstacles I encountered and ultimately overcame. During these three-and-a-half years, I beat myself up over things I never should have, but I did nonetheless. I watched Raging Bull for the first time during college and the self-loathing I witnessed was too close to home for me. I knew I was watching a veiled reflection of myself and how I was just not a pleasant person to be around. Needless to say, I didn’t return to that film for repeat viewings until after college, but it never left my consciousness. Ironically, as much as I love music and as important as it is to my life, it wasn’t what made me want to write. At this crossroad, film became the “be all and end all” for artistry in my life and was ultimately responsible for providing shelter from the storm.
At some point in my college experience, I was watching anywhere from ten to twenty films a week. I watched virtually no television during these years, attended few concerts but became completely engrossed with movies as my primary source of escape. Its one thing to retreat to these films and another to have a guide show you the correct path to follow. My instructors were Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert. Being a life long Chicagoan, I’ve never known a time in my life where I wasn’t aware of whom they were. I watched their shows religiously from the age of three (where I watched their review of The Empire Strikes Back) onward even though I wasn’t old enough to see the majority of the films they discussed. But there was something invigorating about the show. Did these guys really hate each other? Did they admire, love or respect each other? Years after the fact and six years of film classes with Roger Ebert at the University of Chicago (between 1998 and 2004), I can say the answer is “yes” to all of the above. However, what the two of them had on screen was heavy metal voltage. You could feel the static shocks through your TV set as they each tried to get their point across. Every time I see an old clip, I can only think about how this is what music criticism is missing; vigorous and authentic zeal for what they are reviewing. What Siskel and Ebert provided me with was a looking glass that gave me a perspective on film that would stay with me forever. They weren’t afraid to rave about a screwball comedy (as Siskel did with Kingpin), admit to walking out of a film and most importantly, championing the underdog film (which they did on Hoop Dreams). Their love for film was unparalleled and it leaped out of the television. When they gave a film a bad review, it wasn’t out of spite or snobbiness but because they felt your time would be better spent watching something that would pacify your soul rather than a forgetful action flick or sequel that was made for no other purpose than to make money.
When I graduated college in 1998, my graduation gift from my Uncle was a pair of film classes; one with the Chicago Tribune critic Michael Wilmington and another with Roger Ebert. What made Ebert’s classes so enthralling was his choice of subjects. They ranged from David Mamet to Shakespeare and two separate classes on silent films (which have since become a true passion for me). Watching these unknown wonders every Wednesday night was like having a conversation with the Pope or the Dalai Lama about God weekly. Ebert was a true everyman and a complete gentleman. More importantly, he was a great teacher. He was always willing to listen to others interpretations and proved that just because one may be a teacher; it doesn’t mean they stop learning. Before rock journalist Lonn Friend took me under his wing, everything I learned about writing was from Ebert. The one trait I am proud to have embodied (which I still receive criticism for) is to not be afraid to let your emotions be felt in your writing. Human beings by nature are emotional animals and we feel happiness and pain and my goal is to hopefully make someone feel something through my words. There are writers who are more poetic and have a more streamlined approach, but ultimately, I’ll take emotion over prosaic superiority every day. Ebert is one of those rare writers whose prose and passion go hand in hand. His words leap off the page at you pleading with you to see certain films.
He never took me under his wing or offered me advice, because he didn’t have to. If he were a musician I’d say he let the music do the talking…in this case he let his infatuation with cinema do the inspiring. Criticism and journalism isn’t often looked at in the same light as those who create, but in some ways, it may be more important than the art itself. According to Wikipedia, there is a philosophical riddle that raises questions regarding observation and knowledge of reality; "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" The same could be said of movies and albums. If one makes a movie, writes a book, paints a picture or writes and records an album and no one brings it to your attention, does it exist? What most don’t realize is that the writer is both the director and storyteller. They’re the producer and engineer. They are the ones who bring the art to life for us and often guide us through the dangerous trenches shining a light on something we may not have otherwise seen. A great writer evokes emotions, reveals hidden secrets and makes you look beyond the surface of the art. That’s what Roger Ebert does. This is why I spend so much time writing about musical artists like Will Hoge, Butch Walker, Soraia, Sharon Little and James-each is a uniquely talented artist whom I hope the rest of the world will discover because their music they’re far more enlightening that most music you hear on the radio. It’s the same reasons that Siskel and Ebert championed My Dinner With Andre, Raging Bull, Do The Right Thing, Say Anything, One False Move, Hoop Dreams, Fargo, Big Night, Crumb, Leaving Las Vegas and In The Company of Men. Each of these films could have fallen by the way-side, but together they brought them a bigger audience and more importantly, gave many of these actors, writers and directors careers they may have otherwise not had, and that is their lasting legacy.
Where would we be without direction in life? We all like to think we’ve savvy enough to tread its deadly waters without guidance, but we’re not. We seek advice, console and affirmation from humans constantly. Despite taking a weekly class with Roger Ebert for six-years, I still feel something come over me when I read one of his more majestic reviews that are beyond words. There’s no better journalist in any art medium than Ebert and I feel blessed to have followed his career. He inspired me to not just accept a film (or any piece of art) at face value. One of the other great lessons I learned was that “No good film is ever long enough and no bad film is ever short enough”. It does not matter who directed a film or what it’s about, but “how it’s about it”. I took this sermon to heart and applied it to music and don’t care if I find concerts by acts as varied as Will Hoge, Fall Out Boy, Wilco, Bon Jovi, Pearl Jam and KISS enthralling. A good song is a good song, a good movie is a good movie…and Roger Ebert; he’s the best of the best.
Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network and his daily writings can be read at The Screen Door and can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com.
