When I was at home on sick leave yesterday, moping and
feeling sorry for myself for my case of springtime sniffles, I found solace in
catching up on my Twitter feed. On there was the tweet from Roger Ebert about
his “Leave of Presence” – I had glanced at it on Tuesday, noted the
pleasantness of the phrasing, and mulled over its meaning without bothering to
click on the article link.
Upon reading what turned out to be his final article, I was saddened to learn that Roger's cancer had returned and he was forced to take a step back for the time being. Still, it sounded like new adventures were in the works, for this man of 70 that had been doing the same job with the same amount of devotion and impeccable quality for 46 years. A man that spent much more of his last years working on his life's work than worrying about how long that life would last. He may have lost the ability to talk, but he never did lose his voice.
I grew up watching Siskel and Ebert - before I even really read more in the newspaper than the comic section, I knew to look for the "Two thumbs up" stamp of approval on a movie poster. He was the golden standard in my golden world of cinema, and his reach extended far beyond the movieplex.
Here are just a few ways in which this man who spent so much of his time in the dark, helped me to find some inner light:
1. You don't have to always agree with someone's opinion in order to respect them.
Ebert was already a well-established name in quality for movies by the time I came around, so I never really doubted his word. Until I did. It was a shock to the system, something that made me question myself, get angry at poor ol' Roger, and declare that "he has no idea what he's talking about." But he did. Roger's opinion may have differed from mine, but along with that opinion was always solid ground on exactly
why it was different. I grew to learn that not everyone I like is going to feel the same way about things that I do; and yet, I can still value what they have to say, and more importantly, value
them regardless of what they say.
2. No one's opinion should matter more to you than your own.
I took every film class my college with no (at the time) film program offered, including film criticism. I found it a difficult task to be definitive in my opinion on a film, because a part of me would feel bad if I thought a movie was terrible and another part of me would find doubt in my esteem of a film that everyone else in class hated. I found myself constantly checking on Roger's website to see what his opinion was, to see if I was on the right path. But there were times when our opinions would differ and I would find myself wavering, trying to find a way to make Roger's or my teachers, or my peers opinions match my own. No matter how hard I tried, if I didn't love a film, I couldn't bring myself to say I did. And you know what? That's okay. Sure, I still feel bad when I say a movie is terrible, but only because maybe there is a redemption factor in it for you, not because I doubt my own opinion. It's a slow path to believing in yourself sometimes, but it is a path worth taking.
3. It is never as easy as it seems.
I always thought Ebert's job was
the dream job. Live in Chicago, work for a newspaper, get paid to watch movies. When I was a winner of the "Outguess Ebert" contest several years ago, I received an envelope with the return address of the Chicago Sun-Times and a congratulations letter and some free movie tickets inside. Honestly, as awesome as it was to beat Roger at guessing that year's Oscar winners, I actually cherished the envelope from whom my mom deemed as "my future employer." I still have it. Silly? Maybe. But I have to say that it pushed me to start this blog. Which as you can see, has been pretty pathetically kept up. Turns out writing, especially in a time-sensitive media, is not as easy as it looks, even when it is about something you love.
4. Who you are is more important than what you are aka don't hate the game, change it.
I'm terrible at holding myself back sometimes. Waiting for when I'm thinner, richer, smarter, happier, more organized, more stylish...more "more" to try things. In the meantime, life and all its opportunities are not waiting, but moving on without me. Trying to hide out "until" just doesn't work. If you are meant to shine, you will, regardless of anything you do to try to make yourself dim. Roger knew that of himself, and knew how to bring that out in others (uh, hello...Oprah!) Even in his announcement of his latest health crisis, Roger wasn't taking himself out of the game. He was just changing it.
5. Don't limit yourself.
If I thought I could never like foreign films, I'd have missed out on the near perfection that is Amelie. If I didn't watch documentaries about things that might not be the most pleasant of subjects, I'd probaby not be a vegetarian or have any idea of what was going on outside my small world. Because I enjoyed and valued Roger's take on things, there were a lot of movies that I would never have watched otherwise that I gave a shot. These films not only expanded my knowledge of cinema, but broadened my horizons as well. The world is expansive beyond your wildest dreams, and your life can be too, if only you are willing to allow it.
This picture just made me chuckle - Ebert was such a mainstay in my youth that when "Roger and Me" came out, I naturally assumed it was about
this Roger. I kept waiting for him to show up the whole time. Hey, I was 11.
Life is a limited release.
No one knows when the end credits are going to start rolling. Another classic Roger quote is "No good movie is too long and no bad movie is short enough." May your movie be an epic one.
Oh, and Roger? I'll see you at the movies.
