Life Itself

It's pretty brave to name a movie Life Itself. The title alone suggests that the film will provide insight into the weird, unquantifiable, enormous, and very human experience that constitutes… well, life itself. It's even braver considering that the film is actually about a film critic: hardly the most scintillating or important of celebrities, in the Hollywood scheme of things. And yet, this documentary on the life, death and many things in between of pre-eminent American film critic Roger Ebert comes powerfully close to doing its title justice. In narrowing its focus to one human being and his share of triumphs and travails, Life Itself touches on something deeply universal.

For those completely unacquainted with Ebert, Life Itself serves as a useful introduction to America's most recognisable film critic. Even for those who knew of him through his reviews or had some information about the cancer that took his jaw away from him several years ago, the documentary offers plenty of fresh insight into the man himself.

Close friends share their memories of Ebert from his youth, remembering how he made tough professional calls even as the editor of his college newspaper. We watch as he and his collaborator and frenemy, Gene Siskel, become the most popular faces of film criticism in the US. And the camera brings us – oftentimes relentlessly – into the final months of his life, as Ebert trades e- mails (ranging from chirpy to despondent in tone) with director Steve James and struggles through a particularly punishing bout of physiotherapy.

Through it all, a portrait of Ebert emerges – one made all the more impactful because James deftly avoids turning his film into a hagiography. Ebert's sharp wit, intelligence and passion for the movies shine through. But so does his tendency to be petty and competitive over the screen time and fame he must share with Siskel. His love story with his wife Chaz is coloured in by as much joy as tragedy, and James does not shy away from depicting the more banal, dignity-sapping aspects of Ebert's life as a cancer victim.

And yet, what makes Life Itself – based on and named after Ebert's memoirs – so compelling is its subtle conclusion: that we can all choose to be the heroes of our own stories, however small, ordinary or painful they might be. Ebert may not be fighting dragons or fording streams, but he demonstrates superhuman courage whenever he tries to drag his uncooperative body up a flight of steps. This is a hero who gets crotchety, fretful, and sarcastic – the kind of hero who's trapped in his body and forced to communicate through scribbling or notepads or an electronic voice-box, but still manages to reach out with his words and his hope, hanging onto himself and sharing his passion for cinema with film-makers and audiences alike. It's the stuff that movies are far too frequently not made of, and it's the most fitting legacy for a man who spent his life loving them.

As someone who literally grew up at the movies--my mother took me to anything and everything from my infancy right through my early childhood, until I was old enough to go by myself--my love for and fascination with film is deeply entrenched in my way of thinking, my way of writing, my way of viewing life. And Roger Ebert (with Gene Siskel) was a vital discovery, someone whose opinions were always worth hearing (or reading); someone whose love for film and his way of thinking about it seemed to legitimize my lifelong instinct to appraise and quantify the value of what I was being shown on the big screen. It was all right to question things, or to accept the questionable.

I was staying at my favorite hotel in London some years ago (the mid 80s, as I recall) with a writer friend from Oslo (another lover of film and theater). She and I were having a late-night post-theater meal in the lounge when Roger came bustling through on the way to his room. I nearly levitated from my seat at the sight of him, and after he'd passed from view, I tried, a bit deliriously, to explain to my friend who this man was, and his importance to the world of film. She was awe-struck when I spoke of the format of the show, of two men agreeing or disagreeing over forthcoming films. There was nothing like it anywhere outside of the U.S.

As I watched this documentary, I kept remembering that evening at Brown's Hotel way back then, thinking that Roger would have given this film a wholehearted thumbs up. It is wonderfully coherent, and offers insights into the man, into his extraordinary talents and his tremendous enthusiasm, not just for film but for life and the people he loved. It's not hard to understand how difficult it was for his remarkable wife Chaz to let him go.

Like all good films, it left me sated but sad, missing those years of the wonderful weekly excitement of sitting down with my daughter (now also a lifelong film buff) to watch Sneak Previews and, subsequently, At The Movies. This is a film *not* to be missed. It succeeds on every level.

I started watching this and almost could not continue. I found the pictures of Roger after his surgery to be quite upsetting. Seeing his lower jaw hanging open with no teeth, or even a lower jaw was disturbing but it was worth it getting past that.

This is another great movie that many people have not seen or even heard of, a hidden gem. It tells the amazing story of Roger's life, his successes, his demons, his challenging relationship with Gene Siskel and his amazing wife who he married later in life. The scenes with his wife and grandchildren are especially touching. This is a film of great joy and hope. Life is tough, but love will help us through.

I grew up with Roger Ebert's movie reviews. I first read one of his pieces in high school and have been hooked ever since. I would usually consult him before deciding to watch a particular movie, especially if the IMDb rating was not very high: his judgment would be the tie break that would convince me – or not – to invest those 2-3 hours in a movie. Afterwards, I would tuck into bed and slowly and solemnly read his opinion, often forcing my wife to listen on.

What was so special about his reviews? What set him apart from the plethora of reviewers that compete for our attention on "Rotten Tomatoes" or "Metacritic"? For me it was the way he drew parallels between movies and real life. He was not judging a movie on its purely artistic or aesthetic merit; he stayed clear of high-sounding phrases and abstruse concepts. He didn't need and didn't want to show off his cinematic culture or talk condescendingly to his reader. On the contrary, his was an honest, almost heart- to-heart talk, in which he told us how he empathized with the characters, how he was drawn in by the plot, what details about the direction, the cinematography, the acting, the soundtrack had struck a particular chord with him.

But most importantly, he had this uncanny ability to put the movie in the context of "Life itself", to use the title of his book and of the recent documentary about his life. He extracted meaning from virtually every movie; a movie reviewed by Ebert wasn't just a movie, it became a vehicle for exploring our deepest emotions, aspirations, frustrations; a way of redefining our common humanity. After reading an Ebert review, I usually felt a strong connection with the man, because he had opened up to me, he wasn't lecturing me or forcing his interpretation on me.

In fact, he seemed to always want to underline, explicitly or implicitly, that the review was all about how the movie had resonated with HIM. He never pretended that movies weren't what they are: an entirely subjective experience. There are as many reviews as there are persons and, paradoxically, the more personal the review, the more interesting it gets. This is why I liked his reviews even when I didn't agree with them, even if I didn't feel the same emotions he experienced during the picture. After reading a review that I didn't agree with, I even took particular pride in holding a different point of view. Most professional reviewers make you feel stupid if you don't share their strong opinion: if you don't like a movie that they praised, then you are uncultured and unsophisticated; if you loved a movie they torpedoed, you are superficial and have bad taste… Ebert never made you feel that way; on the contrary, you always felt on a level plain.

The documentary "Life Itself", which touches on many aspects of Ebert's life and work, is unmissable for any fan. I would've preferred a more in-depth coverage of his reviews, his relationship with movies, especially the one's that changed his life. In my opinion, director Steve James dwells excessively on Ebert's terminal illness – close-ups of his chin-less face are omnipresent – and on his relationship with his wife and with his television partner Gene Siskel (which takes up an outsize portion of the documentary). For me, Ebert is all about his reviews, and to have given them so little space is a pity.

Even so, I would recommend spending two hours with "Life Itself", even if you've never read an Ebert review: it will introduce you to one of the best movie critics of all time, who has written reviews for half the history of motion pictures and touched the lives of thousands of people – including mine – guiding them through an exciting journey of discovery and self-discovery.

Above all, Life Itself is a love story. It didn't matter who it was about, it ends as a love story about dealing with mortality. You can imagine that Roger Ebert would've been proud to have been at the centre of such a heartbreaking and inspirational story. Steve James' documentary opens on Ebert's reason for loving cinema. It's about learning empathy for those sharing this journey of life with us. It's something that Life Itself certainly does for Ebert. I never knew much about him before his death. I live in England so I never even heard of him until I found the internet and then he was only a name or the picture on his old website. He was someone people loved to bring up whether to agree or disagree with his opinions. I don't think I even read one of his reviews until after he died, all I knew where his Oscar predictions and the fact he claimed Synecdoche, New York the best of the decade.

And so, Life Itself gives me my first glimpse of the brotherhood between Siskel & Ebert. Before the film becomes a love story of Ebert and his wife Chaz, it's a love story between two men. The film takes their most electric moments and it fills you with the fiery passion for cinema, something that's too easily diluted over time. The film's montages are full of a warm energy, and they're wonderful to watch, even if the storyline can be a little muddled. You wonder on why they focus on certain details at particular points, but the reasons emerge. It's difficult to see Ebert in his last months with his jaw skin drooping, but his smile beams through and it's great to see such an attitude. At its best the film is pure poetry, and the tributes at the end made me weep. Accepting death brings a wind of peace. I wish it had more structure so it could be a favourite, but it's powerful stuff as it is. Very revealing documentary that digs comfortably into a deeply personal vulnerable spot.

8/10