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Roger Ebert
Roger Ebert
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Roger Joseph Ebert (/ˈbərt/ EE-bərt; June 18, 1942 – April 4, 2013) was an American film critic, film historian, journalist, essayist, screenwriter and author. He wrote for the Chicago Sun-Times from 1967 until his death in 2013. Ebert was known for his intimate, Midwestern writing style and critical views informed by values of populism and humanism.[1] Writing in a prose style intended to be entertaining and direct, he made sophisticated cinematic and analytical ideas more accessible to non-specialist audiences.[2] Ebert endorsed foreign and independent films he believed would be appreciated by mainstream viewers, championing filmmakers like Werner Herzog, Errol Morris and Spike Lee, as well as Martin Scorsese, whose first published review he wrote. In 1975, Ebert became the first film critic to win the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism. Neil Steinberg of the Chicago Sun-Times said Ebert "was without question the nation's most prominent and influential film critic,"[3] and Kenneth Turan of the Los Angeles Times called him "the best-known film critic in America."[4] Per The New York Times, "The force and grace of his opinions propelled film criticism into the mainstream of American culture. Not only did he advise moviegoers about what to see, but also how to think about what they saw."[5]

Key Information

Early in his career, Ebert co-wrote the Russ Meyer film Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970). Starting in 1975 and continuing for decades, Ebert and Chicago Tribune critic Gene Siskel helped popularize nationally televised film reviewing when they co-hosted the PBS show Sneak Previews, followed by several variously named At the Movies programs on commercial TV broadcast syndication. The two verbally sparred and traded humorous barbs while discussing films. They created and trademarked the phrase "two thumbs up," used when both gave the same film a positive review. After Siskel died from a brain tumor in 1999, Ebert continued hosting the show with various co-hosts and then, starting in 2000, with Richard Roeper. In 1996, Ebert began publishing essays on great films of the past; the first hundred were published as The Great Movies. He published two more volumes, and a fourth was published posthumously. In 1999, he founded the Overlooked Film Festival in Champaign, Illinois.

In 2002, Ebert was diagnosed with cancer of the thyroid and salivary glands. He required treatment that included removing a section of his lower jaw in 2006, leaving him severely disfigured and unable to speak or eat normally. However, his ability to write remained unimpaired and he continued to publish frequently online and in print until his death in 2013. His RogerEbert.com website, launched in 2002, remains online as an archive of his published writings. Richard Corliss wrote, "Roger leaves a legacy of indefatigable connoisseurship in movies, literature, politics and, to quote the title of his 2011 autobiography, Life Itself."[6] In 2014, Life Itself was adapted as a documentary of the same title, released to positive reviews.

Early life and education

[edit]

Roger Joseph Ebert[5][7] was born on June 18, 1942, in Urbana, Illinois, the only child of Annabel (née Stumm),[8] a bookkeeper,[3][9] and Walter Harry Ebert, an electrician.[10][11] He was raised Roman Catholic, attending St. Mary's elementary school and serving as an altar boy in Urbana.[11]

His paternal grandparents were German immigrants[12] and his maternal ancestry was Irish and Dutch.[9][13][14] His first movie memory was of his parents taking him to see the Marx Brothers in A Day at the Races (1937).[15] He wrote that Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was "the first real book I ever read, and still the best."[16] He began his writing career with his own newspaper, The Washington Street News, printed in his basement.[5] He wrote letters of comment to the science-fiction fanzines of the era and founded his own, Stymie.[5] At age 15, he was a sportswriter for The News-Gazette covering Urbana High School sports.[17] He attended Urbana High School, where in his senior year he was class president and co-editor of his high school newspaper, The Echo.[11][18] In 1958, he won the Illinois High School Association state speech championship in "radio speaking," an event that simulates radio newscasts.[19]

"I learned to be a movie critic by reading Mad magazine ... Mad's parodies made me aware of the machine inside the skin – of the way a movie might look original on the outside, while inside it was just recycling the same old dumb formulas. I did not read the magazine, I plundered it for clues to the universe. Pauline Kael lost it at the movies; I lost it at Mad magazine"

— Roger Ebert, Mad About the Movies (1998 parody collection)[20]

Ebert began taking classes at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign as an early-entrance student, completing his high school courses while also taking his first university class. After graduating from Urbana High School in 1960,[21] he attended the University of Illinois and received his undergraduate degree in journalism in 1964.[5] While there, Ebert worked as a reporter for The Daily Illini and served as its editor during his senior year while continuing to work for the News-Gazette.

His college mentor was Daniel Curley, who "introduced me to many of the cornerstones of my life's reading: 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock', Crime and Punishment, Madame Bovary, The Ambassadors, Nostromo, The Professor's House, The Great Gatsby, The Sound and the Fury ... He approached these works with undisguised admiration. We discussed patterns of symbolism, felicities of language, motivation, revelation of character. This was appreciation, not the savagery of deconstruction, which approaches literature as pliers do a rose."[22] One of his classmates was Larry Woiwode, who went on to be the Poet Laureate of North Dakota. At The Daily Illini Ebert befriended William Nack, who as a sportswriter would cover Secretariat.[23] As an undergraduate, he was a member of the Phi Delta Theta fraternity and president of the United States Student Press Association.[24] One of the first reviews he wrote was of La Dolce Vita, published in The Daily Illini in October 1961.[25]

As a graduate student, he "had the good fortune to enroll in a class on Shakespeare's tragedies taught by G. Blakemore Evans ... It was then that Shakespeare took hold of me, and it became clear he was the nearest we have come to a voice for what it means to be human."[26] Ebert spent a semester as a master's student in the department of English there before attending the University of Cape Town on a Rotary fellowship for a year.[27] He returned from Cape Town to his graduate studies at Illinois for two more semesters and then, after being accepted as a PhD student at the University of Chicago, he prepared to move to Chicago. He needed a job to support himself while he worked on his doctorate and so applied to the Chicago Daily News, hoping that, as he had already sold freelance pieces to the Daily News, including an article on the death of writer Brendan Behan, he would be hired by editor Herman Kogan.[28]

Instead, Kogan referred Ebert to the city editor at the Chicago Sun-Times, Jim Hoge, who hired him as a reporter and feature writer in 1966.[28] He attended doctoral classes at the University of Chicago while working as a general reporter for a year. After movie critic Eleanor Keane left the Sun-Times in April 1967, editor Robert Zonka gave the job to Ebert.[29] The paper wanted a young critic to cover movies like The Graduate and films by Jean-Luc Godard and François Truffaut.[5]

Beginning in 1968, Ebert worked for the University of Chicago as an adjunct lecturer, teaching a night class on film at the Graham School of Continuing Liberal and Professional Studies.[30] The load of graduate school and being a film critic proved too much, so Ebert left the University of Chicago to focus his energies on film criticism.[31]

Career

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1967–1974: Early writings

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A black and white photograph of two men in suits. The man on the right is wearing glasses.
Ebert (right) with Russ Meyer in 1970

Ebert's first review for the Chicago Sun-Times began: "Georges Lautner’s Galia opens and closes with arty shots of the ocean, mother of us all, but in between it's pretty clear that what is washing ashore is the French New Wave."[32] He recalls that "Within a day after Zonka gave me the job, I read The Immediate Experience by Robert Warshow", from which he gleaned that "the critic has to set aside theory and ideology, theology and politics, and open himself to—well, the immediate experience."[33] That same year, he met film critic Pauline Kael for the first time at the New York Film Festival. After he sent her some of his columns, she told him they were "the best film criticism being done in American newspapers today."[11] He recalls her telling him how she worked: "I go into the movie, I watch it, and I ask myself what happened to me."[33] A formative experience was reviewing Ingmar Bergman's Persona (1966).[34] He told his editor he wasn't sure how to review it when he didn't feel he could explain it. His editor told him he didn't have to explain it, just describe it.[35]

He was one of the first critics to champion Arthur Penn's Bonnie and Clyde (1967), calling it "a milestone in the history of American movies, a work of truth and brilliance. It is also pitilessly cruel, filled with sympathy, nauseating, funny, heartbreaking and astonishingly beautiful. If it does not seem that those words should be strung together, perhaps that is because movies do not very often reflect the full range of human life." He concluded: "The fact that the story is set 35 years ago doesn't mean a thing. It had to be set some time. But it was made now and it's about us."[36] Thirty-one years later, he wrote "When I saw it, I had been a film critic for less than six months, and it was the first masterpiece I had seen on the job. I felt an exhilaration beyond describing. I did not suspect how long it would be between such experiences, but at least I learned that they were possible."[37] He wrote Martin Scorsese's first review, for Who's That Knocking at My Door (1967, then titled I Call First), and predicted the young director could become "an American Fellini."[38]

Ebert co-wrote the screenplay for Russ Meyer's Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) and sometimes joked about being responsible for it. It was poorly received on its release yet has become a cult film.[39] Ebert and Meyer also made Up! (1976), Beneath the Valley of the Ultra-Vixens (1979) and other films, and were involved in the ill-fated Sex Pistols film Who Killed Bambi? In April 2010, Ebert posted his screenplay of Who Killed Bambi?, also known as Anarchy in the UK, on his blog.[40]

Ebert served on the jury at the 33rd Venice International Film Festival in 1972.[41][42]

1975–1999: Stardom with Siskel & Ebert

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Color photo of a man in a tuxedo.
Co-host Gene Siskel at the 1989 Academy Awards

In 1975, Ebert received the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism.[43] In the aftermath of his win, he was offered jobs at The New York Times and The Washington Post, but he declined them both, as he did not wish to leave Chicago.[44] That same year, he and Gene Siskel of the Chicago Tribune began co-hosting a weekly film-review television show, Opening Soon at a Theater Near You,[5] later Sneak Previews, which was locally produced by the Chicago public broadcasting station WTTW.[45] The series was later picked up for national syndication on PBS.[45] The duo became well known for their "thumbs up/thumbs down" reviews.[45][46] They trademarked the phrase "Two Thumbs Up."[45][47]

In 1982, they moved from PBS to launch a similar syndicated commercial television show, At the Movies With Gene Siskel & Roger Ebert.[45] In 1986, they again moved the show to new ownership, creating Siskel & Ebert & the Movies through Buena Vista Television, part of the Walt Disney Company.[45] Ebert and Siskel made many appearances on late night talk shows, appearing on The Late Show with David Letterman sixteen times and The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson fifteen times. They also appeared together on The Oprah Winfrey Show, The Arsenio Hall Show, The Howard Stern Show, The Tonight Show with Jay Leno and Late Night with Conan O'Brien.

Siskel and Ebert were sometimes accused of trivializing film criticism. Richard Corliss, in Film Comment, called the show "a sitcom (with its own noodling, toodling theme song) starring two guys who live in a movie theater and argue all the time".[48] Ebert responded that "I am the first to agree with Corliss that the Siskel and Ebert program is not in-depth film criticism" but that "When we have an opinion about a movie, that opinion may light a bulb above the head of an ambitious youth who then understands that people can make up their own minds about movies." He also noted that they did "theme shows" condemning colorization and showing the virtues of letterboxing. He argued that "good criticism is commonplace these days. Film Comment itself is healthier and more widely distributed than ever before. Film Quarterly is, too; it even abandoned eons of tradition to increase its page size. And then look at Cinéaste and American Film and the specialist film magazines (you may not read Fangoria, but if you did, you would be amazed at the erudition its writers bring to the horror and special effects genres.)"[49] Corliss wrote that "I do think the program has other merits, and said so in a sentence of my original article that didn't make it into type: 'Sometimes the show does good: in spotlighting foreign and independent films, and in raising issues like censorship and colorization.' The stars' recent excoriation of the MPAA's X rating was salutary to the max."[50]

In 1996, W. W. Norton & Company asked Ebert to edit an anthology of film writing. This resulted in Roger Ebert's Book of Film: From Tolstoy to Tarantino, the Finest Writing From a Century of Film. The selections are eclectic, ranging from Louise Brooks's autobiography to David Thomson's novel Suspects.[51] Ebert "wrote to Nigel Wade, then the editor of the Chicago Sun-Times, and proposed a biweekly series of longer articles great movies of the past. He gave his blessing ... Every other week I have revisited a great movie, and the response has been encouraging."[52] The first film he wrote about for the series was Casablanca (1942).[53] A hundred of these essays were published as The Great Movies (2002); he released two more volumes, and a fourth was published posthumously. In 1999, Ebert founded The Overlooked Film Festival (later Ebertfest), in his hometown, Champaign, Illinois.[54]

In May 1998, Siskel took a leave of absence from the show to undergo brain surgery. He returned to the show, although viewers noticed a change in his physical appearance. Despite appearing sluggish and tired, Siskel continued reviewing films with Ebert and would appear on Late Show with David Letterman. In February 1999, Siskel died of a brain tumor.[55][56] The producers renamed the show Roger Ebert & the Movies and used rotating co-hosts including Martin Scorsese,[57]Janet Maslin[58] and A.O. Scott.[59] Ebert wrote of his late colleague: "For the first five years that we knew one another, Gene Siskel and I hardly spoke. Then it seemed like we never stopped." He wrote of Siskel's work ethic, of how quickly he returned to work after surgery: "Someone else might have taken a leave of absence then and there, but Gene worked as long as he could. Being a film critic was important to him. He liked to refer to his job as 'the national dream beat,' and say that in reviewing movies he was covering what people hoped for, dreamed about, and feared."[60] Ebert recalled, "Whenever he interviewed someone for his newspaper or for television, Gene Siskel liked to end with the same question: 'What do you know for sure?' OK Gene, what do I know for sure about you? You were one of the smartest, funniest, quickest men I've ever known and one of the best reporters...I know for sure that seeing a truly great movie made you so happy that you'd tell me a week later your spirits were still high."[61] Ten years after Siskel's death, Ebert blogged about his colleague: "We once spoke with Disney and CBS about a sitcom to be titled Best Enemies. It would be about two movie critics joined in a love/hate relationship. It never went anywhere, but we both believed it was a good idea. Maybe the problem was that no one else could possibly understand how meaningless was the hate, how deep was the love."[62]

2000–2006: Ebert & Roeper

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In September 2000, Chicago Sun-Times columnist Richard Roeper became the permanent co-host and the show was renamed At the Movies with Ebert & Roeper and later Ebert & Roeper.[5][63] In 2000, Ebert interviewed President Bill Clinton about movies at The White House.[64]

In 2002, Ebert was diagnosed with cancer of the salivary glands. In 2006, cancer surgery resulted in his losing his ability to eat and speak. In 2007, prior to his Overlooked Film Festival, he posted a picture of his new condition. Paraphrasing a line from Raging Bull (1980), he wrote, "I ain’t a pretty boy no more. (Not that I ever was. The original appeal of Siskel & Ebert was that we didn't look like we belonged on TV.)" He added that he would not miss the festival: "At least, not being able to speak, I am spared the need to explain why every film is 'overlooked', or why I wrote Beyond the Valley of the Dolls."[65]

2007–2013: RogerEbert.com

[edit]
Ebert in 2010

Ebert ended his association with At The Movies in July 2008,[47][66] after Disney indicated it wished to take the program in a new direction. As of 2007, his reviews were syndicated to more than 200 newspapers in the United States and abroad.[67] His RogerEbert.com website, launched in 2002 and originally underwritten by the Chicago Sun-Times,[68] remains online as an archive of his published writings and reviews while also hosting new material written by a group of critics who were selected by Ebert before his death. Even as he used TV (and later the Internet) to share his reviews, Ebert continued to write for the Chicago Sun-Times until he died.[69][circular reference] On February 18, 2009, Ebert reported that he and Roeper would soon announce a new movie-review program,[70] and reiterated this plan after Disney announced that the program's last episode would air in August 2010.[71][72] In 2008, having lost his voice, he turned to blogging to express himself.[66] Peter Debruge writes that "Ebert was one of the first writers to recognize the potential of discussing film online."[73]

His final television series, Ebert Presents: At the Movies, premiered on January 21, 2011, with Ebert contributing a review voiced by Bill Kurtis in a brief segment called "Roger's Office,"[74] as well as traditional film reviews in the At the Movies format by Christy Lemire and Ignatiy Vishnevetsky.[75] The program lasted one season, before being cancelled due to funding constraints.[76][5]

In 2011, he published his memoir, Life Itself, in which he describes his childhood, his career, his struggles with alcoholism and cancer, his loves and friendships.[15] On March 7, 2013, Ebert published his last Great Movies essay, for The Ballad of Narayama (1958).[77] The last review Ebert published during his lifetime was for The Host, on March 27, 2013.[78][79] The last review Ebert filed, published posthumously on April 6, 2013, was for To the Wonder.[80][81] In July 2013, a previously unpublished review of Computer Chess appeared on RogerEbert.com.[82] The review had been written in March but had remained unpublished until the film's wide-release date.[83] Matt Zoller Seitz, the editor of RogerEbert.com, confirmed that there were other unpublished reviews that would eventually be posted.[83] A second review, for The Spectacular Now, was published in August 2013.[84]

In his last blog entry, posted two days before his death, Ebert wrote that his cancer had returned and he was taking "a leave of presence."[85] "What in the world is a leave of presence? It means I am not going away. My intent is to continue to write selected reviews but to leave the rest to a talented team of writers handpicked and greatly admired by me. What's more, I'll be able at last to do what I’ve always fantasized about doing: reviewing only the movies I want to review." He signed off, "So on this day of reflection I say again, thank you for going on this journey with me. I'll see you at the movies."[86]

Critical style

[edit]
Ebert cited Pauline Kael as an influence.

Ebert cited Andrew Sarris and Pauline Kael as influences, and often quoted Robert Warshow, who said: "A man goes to the movies. A critic must be honest enough to admit he is that man."[87][88] His own credo was: "Your intellect may be confused, but your emotions never lie to you."[5] He tried to judge a movie on its style rather than its content, and often said "It's not what a movie is about, it's how it's about what it's about."[89][90]

He awarded four stars to films of the highest quality, and generally a half star to those of the lowest, unless he considered the film to be "artistically inept and morally repugnant", in which case it received no stars, as with Death Wish II.[91] He explained that his star ratings had little meaning outside the context of the review:

When you ask a friend if Hellboy is any good, you're not asking if it's any good compared to Mystic River, you're asking if it's any good compared to The Punisher. And my answer would be, on a scale of one to four, if Superman is four, then Hellboy is three and The Punisher is two. In the same way, if American Beauty gets four stars, then The United States of Leland clocks in at about two.[92]

Although Ebert rarely wrote outright scathing reviews, he had a reputation for writing memorable ones for the films he really hated, such as North.[93] Of that film, he wrote "I hated this movie. Hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it. Hated every simpering stupid vacant audience-insulting moment of it. Hated the sensibility that thought anyone would like it. Hated the implied insult to the audience by its belief that anyone would be entertained by it."[94] He wrote that Mad Dog Time "is the first movie I have seen that does not improve on the sight of a blank screen viewed for the same length of time. Oh, I've seen bad movies before. But they usually made me care about how bad they were. Watching Mad Dog Time is like waiting for the bus in a city where you're not sure they have a bus line" and concluded that the film "should be cut up to provide free ukulele picks for the poor."[95] Of Caligula, he wrote "It is not good art, it is not good cinema, and it is not good porn" and approvingly quoted the woman in front of him at the drinking fountain, who called it "the worst piece of shit I have ever seen."[96]

Ebert's reviews were also characterized by "dry wit."[3] He often wrote in a deadpan style when discussing a movie's flaws; in his review of Jaws: The Revenge, he wrote that Mrs. Brody's "friends pooh-pooh the notion that a shark could identify, follow or even care about one individual human being, but I am willing to grant the point, for the benefit of the plot. I believe that the shark wants revenge against Mrs. Brody. I do. I really do believe it. After all, her husband was one of the men who hunted this shark and killed it, blowing it to bits. And what shark wouldn't want revenge against the survivors of the men who killed it? Here are some things, however, that I do not believe", going on to list the other ways the film strained credulity.[97] He wrote "Pearl Harbor is a two-hour movie squeezed into three hours, about how on Dec. 7, 1941, the Japanese staged a surprise attack on an American love triangle. Its centerpiece is 40 minutes of redundant special effects, surrounded by a love story of stunning banality. The film has been directed without grace, vision, or originality, and although you may walk out quoting lines of dialog, it will not be because you admire them."[98]

"[Ebert's prose] had a plain-spoken Midwestern clarity...a genial, conversational presence on the page...his criticism shows a nearly unequaled grasp of film history and technique, and formidable intellectual range, but he rarely seems to be showing off. He's just trying to tell you what he thinks, and to provoke some thought on your part about how movies work and what they can do".

A.O. Scott, film critic for The New York Times[59]

Ebert often included personal anecdotes in his reviews; reviewing The Last Picture Show, he recalls his early days as a moviegoer: "For five or six years of my life (the years between when I was old enough to go alone, and when TV came to town) Saturday afternoon at the Princess was a descent into a dark magical cave that smelled of Jujubes, melted Dreamsicles and Crisco in the popcorn machine. It was probably on one of those Saturday afternoons that I formed my first critical opinion, deciding vaguely that there was something about John Wayne that set him apart from ordinary cowboys."[99] Reviewing Star Wars, he wrote: "Every once in a while I have what I think of as an out-of-the-body experience at a movie. When the ESP people use a phrase like that, they're referring to the sensation of the mind actually leaving the body and spiriting itself off to China or Peoria or a galaxy far, far away. When I use the phrase, I simply mean that my imagination has forgotten it is actually present in a movie theater and thinks it's up there on the screen. In a curious sense, the events in the movie seem real, and I seem to be a part of them...My list of other out-of-the-body films is a short and odd one, ranging from the artistry of Bonnie and Clyde or Cries and Whispers to the slick commercialism of Jaws and the brutal strength of Taxi Driver. On whatever level (sometimes I'm not at all sure) they engage me so immediately and powerfully that I lose my detachment, my analytical reserve. The movie's happening, and it's happening to me."[100] He sometimes wrote reviews in the forms of stories, poems, songs,[101] scripts, open letters,[102][103] or imagined conversations.[104]

Alex Ross, music critic for The New Yorker, wrote of how Ebert had influenced his writing: "I noticed how much Ebert could put across in a limited space. He didn't waste time clearing his throat. 'They meet for the first time when she is in her front yard practicing baton-twirling,' begins his review of Badlands. Often, he managed to smuggle the basics of the plot into a larger thesis about the movie, so that you don't notice the exposition taking place: 'Broadcast News is as knowledgeable about the TV news-gathering process as any movie ever made, but it also has insights into the more personal matter of how people use high-pressure jobs as a way of avoiding time alone with themselves.' The reviews start off in all different ways, sometimes with personal confessions, sometimes with sweeping statements. One way or another, he pulls you in. When he feels strongly, he can bang his fist in an impressive way. His review of Apocalypse Now ends thus: 'The whole huge grand mystery of the world, so terrible, so beautiful, seems to hang in the balance.'"[105]

In his introduction to The Great Movies III, he wrote:

People often ask me, "Do you ever change your mind about a movie?" Hardly ever, although I may refine my opinion. Among the films here, I've changed on The Godfather Part II and Blade Runner. My original review of Part II puts me in mind of the "brain cloud" that besets Tom Hanks in Joe Versus the Volcano. I was simply wrong. In the case of Blade Runner, I think the director's cut by Ridley Scott simply plays much better. I also turned around on Groundhog Day, which made it into this book when I belatedly caught on that it wasn't about the weatherman's predicament but about the nature of time and will. Perhaps when I first saw it I allowed myself to be distracted by Bill Murray's mainstream comedy reputation. But someone in film school somewhere is probably even now writing a thesis about how Murray's famous cameos represent an injection of philosophy into those pictures.[106]

In the first Great Movies, he wrote:

Movies do not change, but their viewers do. When I first saw La Dolce Vita in 1961, I was an adolescent for whom "the sweet life" represented everything I dreamed of: sin, exotic European glamour, the weary romance of the cynical newspaperman. When I saw it again, around 1970, I was living in a version of Marcello's world; Chicago's North Avenue was not the Via Veneto, but at 3 A. M. the denizens were just as colorful, and I was about Marcello's age.

When I saw the movie around 1980, Marcello was the same age, but I was ten years older, had stopped drinking, and saw him not as role model, but as a victim, condemned to an endless search for happiness that could never be found, not that way. By 1991, when I analyzed the film a frame at a time at the University of Colorado, Marcello seemed younger still, and while I had once admired and then criticized him, now I pitied and loved him. And when I saw the movie right after Mastroianni died, I thought that Fellini and Marcello had taken a moment of discovery and made it immortal. There may be no such thing as the sweet life. But it is necessary to find that out for yourself.[107]

Preferences

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Personal life

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Three people are smiling with Hawaiian leis around their necks.
Ebert and his wife Chaz Hammelsmith Ebert (left) giving the thumbs up to Nancy Kwan (right) at the Hawaii International Film Festival in 2010

Marriage

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At age 50, Ebert married trial attorney Charlie "Chaz" Hammel-Smith[228][229] in 1992.[11][230][231] Chaz Ebert became vice president of the Ebert Company and has emceed Ebertfest.[232][233][234] He explained in his memoir, Life Itself, that he did not want to marry before his mother died, as he was afraid of displeasing her.[235] In a July 2012 blog entry, Ebert wrote about Chaz, "She fills my horizon, she is the great fact of my life, she has my love, she saved me from the fate of living out my life alone, which is where I seemed to be heading... She has been with me in sickness and in health, certainly far more sickness than we could have anticipated. I will be with her, strengthened by her example. She continues to make my life possible, and her presence fills me with love and a deep security. That's what a marriage is for. Now I know."[236]

Alcoholism recovery

[edit]

Ebert was a recovering alcoholic, having quit drinking in 1979. He was a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and had written some blog entries on the subject.[237] Ebert was a longtime friend of Oprah Winfrey, and Winfrey credited him with persuading her to syndicate The Oprah Winfrey Show,[238] which became the highest-rated talk show in American television history.[239]

Lou Lumenick incident

[edit]

In September 2008, at the 2008 Toronto International Film Festival, during the premiere of Slumdog Millionaire, Ebert was attacked by New York Post film critic Lou Lumenick, who was sitting in front of him. Ebert was inconvenienced by Lumenick obstructing his line of sight, could not see the subtitles,[240] and tapped him on the shoulder a few times to get him to move a bit to the side. Lumenick abruptly rose from his seat, shouting "Don't touch me!"; he did this again a few minutes later and then also hit Ebert with a large binder, causing a loud noise that reportedly startled the audience. He then understood that he had yelled at and hit Ebert, but reportedly did not apologize at the time.[241][242]

Health

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An image of a woman in a red dress speaking with a man, both sitting down.
Ebert (right) at the Conference on World Affairs in September 2002, shortly after his cancer diagnosis

In February 2002, Ebert was diagnosed with papillary thyroid cancer which was successfully removed.[243] In 2003, he underwent surgery for salivary gland cancer, which was followed up by radiation therapy. He was again diagnosed with cancer in 2006. In June of that year, he had a mandibulectomy to remove cancerous tissue in the right side of his jaw.[244] A week later he had a life-threatening complication when his carotid artery burst near the surgery site.[245] He was confined to bed rest and was unable to speak, eat, or drink for a time, necessitating the use of a feeding tube.[246]

The complications kept Ebert off the air for an extended period. Ebert made his first public appearance since mid-2006 at Ebertfest on April 25, 2007. He was unable to speak, instead communicating through his wife.[247] He returned to reviewing on May 18, 2007, when three of his reviews were published in print.[248] In July 2007, he revealed that he was still unable to speak.[249] Ebert adopted a computerized voice system to communicate, eventually using a copy of his own voice created from his recordings by CereProc.[250]

In March 2010, his health trials and new computerized voice were featured on The Oprah Winfrey Show.[251][252] In 2011, Ebert gave a TED talk assisted by his wife, Chaz, and friends Dean Ornish and John Hunter, called "Remaking my voice"[253] in which, he proposed a test to determine the verisimilitude of a synthesized voice.[254]

Ebert underwent further surgery in January 2008 to try to restore his voice and address the complications from his previous surgeries.[255][256] On April 1, Ebert announced his speech had not been restored.[257] Ebert underwent further surgery in April 2008 after fracturing his hip in a fall.[258] By 2011, Ebert had a prosthetic chin made to hide some of the damage done by his many surgeries.[259]

In December 2012, Ebert was hospitalized due to the fractured hip, which was subsequently determined to be the result of cancer.[260]

Ebert wrote that "what's sad about not eating" was:

The loss of dining, not the loss of food. It may be personal, but for me, unless I'm alone, it doesn't involve dinner if it doesn't involve talking. The food and drink I can do without easily. The jokes, gossip, laughs, arguments and shared memories I miss. Sentences beginning with the words, "Remember that time?" I ran in crowds where anyone was likely to break out in a poetry recitation at any time. Me too. But not me anymore. So yes, it's sad. Maybe that's why I enjoy this blog. You don't realize it, but we're at dinner right now.[246]

Politics

[edit]

A supporter of the Democratic Party,[261] he wrote of how his Catholic schooling led him to his politics: "Through a mental process that has by now become almost instinctive, those nuns guided me into supporting universal health care, the rightness of labor unions, fair taxation, prudence in warfare, kindness in peacetime, help for the hungry and homeless, and equal opportunity for the races and genders. It continues to surprise me that many who consider themselves religious seem to tilt away from me."[262]

Ebert was critical of political correctness, "a rigid feeling that you have to keep your ideas and your ways of looking at things within very narrow boundaries, or you'll offend someone. Certainly one of the purposes of journalism is to challenge that kind of thinking. And certainly one of the purposes of criticism is to break boundaries. It's also one of the purposes of art."[263] He lamented that Adventures of Huckleberry Finn "has regrettably been under fire in recent years from myopic advocates of Political Correctness, who do not have a bone of irony (or humor) in their bodies, and cannot tell the difference between what is said or done in the novel, and what Twain means by it."[264] Ebert defended the cast and crew of Justin Lin's Better Luck Tomorrow (2002) during a Sundance Film Festival screening when a white member of the audience asked “Why, with the talent yup there and yourself, make a film so empty and amoral for Asian Americans and for Americans?” Ebert responded that "What I find very offensive and condescending about your statement is nobody would say to a bunch of white filmmakers, ‘How could you do this to 'your people'?...Asian-American characters have the right to be whoever the hell they want to be. They do not have to represent 'their people'!"[265][266][267] He was a supporter of the film after the incident at Sundance.

Ebert opposed the Iraq War, writing: "Am I against the war? Of course. Do I support our troops? Of course. They were sent to endanger their lives by zealots with occult objectives."[268] He endorsed Barack Obama for re-election in 2012, citing the Affordable Care Act as one important reason for his support of Obama.[269] He was concerned about income inequality, writing: "I have no objection to financial success. I've had a lot of it myself. All of my income came from paychecks from jobs I held and books I published. I have the quaint idea that wealth should be obtained by legal and conventional means–by working, in other words–and not through the manipulation of financial scams. You're familiar with the ways bad mortgages were urged upon people who couldn't afford them, by banks who didn't care that the loans were bad. The banks made the loans and turned a profit by selling them to investors while at the same time betting against them on their own account. While Wall Street was knowingly trading the worthless paper that led to the financial collapse of 2008, executives were being paid huge bonuses."[270] He voiced tentative support for the Occupy Wall Street movement: "I believe the Occupiers are opposed to the lawless and destructive greed in the financial industry, and the unhealthy spread in this country between the rich and the rest." Referring to the subprime mortgage crisis, he wrote: "I have also felt despair at the way financial instruments were created and manipulated to deliberately defraud the ordinary people in this country. At how home buyers were peddled mortgages they couldn't afford, and civilian investors were sold worthless 'securities' based on those bad mortgages. Wall Street felt no shame in backing paper that was intended to fail, and selling it to customers who trusted them. This is clear and documented. It is theft and fraud on a staggering scale."[271] He was also sympathetic to Ron Paul, noting that he "speaks directly and clearly without a lot of hot air and lip flap".[272] In a review of the 2008 documentary I.O.U.S.A., he credited Paul with being "a lonely voice talking about the debt", proposing based on the film that the US government was "already broke".[273] He opposed the war on drugs[274] and capital punishment.[275]

Laura Emerick, his Sun Times editor, recalled: “His union sympathies began at an early age. His father, Walter, worked as an electrician, and Roger remained a member of the Newspaper Guild throughout his career — though after he became an independent contractor, he probably could have opted out. He famously stood with the Guild in 2004, when he wrote to then publisher John Cruickshank that ‘it would be with a heavy heart that I would go on strike against my beloved Sun-Times, but strike I will if a strike is called.'”[276] He lamented that "Most Americans don't understand the First Amendment, don't understand the idea of freedom of speech, and don't understand that it's the responsibility of the citizen to speak out." Regarding his own freedom of speech, he said: "I write op-ed columns for the Chicago Sun-Times, and people send me e-mails saying, 'You're a movie critic. You don't know anything about politics.' Well, you know what, I'm 60 years old, and I've been interested in politics since I was on my daddy's knee.... I know a lot about politics."[277]

Beliefs

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Ebert was critical of intelligent design,[278][279] and stated that people who believe in either creationism or New Age beliefs such as crystal healing or astrology should not be president.[280] He wrote that in Catholic school he learned of the "Theory of Evolution, which in its elegance and blinding obviousness became one of the pillars of my reasoning, explaining so many things in so many ways. It was an introduction not only to logic but to symbolism, thus opening a window into poetry, literature and the arts in general. All my life I have deplored those who interpret something only on its most simplistic level."[262]

Ebert described himself as an agnostic on at least one occasion,[11] but at other times explicitly rejected that designation; biographer Matt Singer wrote that Ebert opposed any categorization of his beliefs.[281] In 2009, Ebert wrote that he did not "want [his] convictions reduced to a word," and stated, "I have never said, although readers have freely informed me I am an atheist, an agnostic, or at the very least a secular humanist – which I am."[282] He wrote: "I am not a believer, not an atheist, not an agnostic. I am still awake at night, asking how?[a] I am more content with the question than I would be with an answer."[282] He writes: "I was asked at lunch today who or what I worshiped. The question was asked sincerely, and in the same spirit I responded that I worshiped whatever there might be outside knowledge. I worship the void. The mystery. And the ability of our human minds to perceive an unanswerable mystery. To reduce such a thing to simplistic names is an insult to it, and to our intelligence."[283]

He wrote of his Catholic upbringing: "I believed in the basic Church teachings because I thought they were correct, not because God wanted me to. In my mind, in the way I interpret them, I still live by them today. Not by the rules and regulations, but by the principles. For example, in the matter of abortion, I am pro-choice, but my personal choice would be to have nothing to do with an abortion, certainly not of a child of my own. I believe in free will, and believe I have no right to tell anyone else what to do. Above all, the state does not." He later wrote: "My choice is to not support abortion, except in cases of a clear-cut choice between the lives of the mother and child. A child conceived through incest or rape is innocent and deserves the right to be born."[284]

He wrote: "I drank for many years in a tavern that had a photograph of Brendan Behan on the wall, and under it is this quotation, which I memorized: 'I respect kindness in human beings first of all, and kindness to animals. I don't respect the law; I have a total irreverence for anything concerned with society except that which makes the roads safer, the beer stronger, the food cheaper and the old men and the old women warmer in the winter and happier in the summer.' For 57 words, that does a pretty good job of summing it up."[285] Summarizing his beliefs, Ebert wrote:

I believe that if, at the end of it all, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this, and am happy I lived long enough to find it out.[285]

He wrote: "I correspond with a dear friend, the wise and gentle Australian director Paul Cox. Our subject sometimes turns to death. In 2010 he came very close to dying before receiving a liver transplant. In 1988 he made a documentary named Vincent: The Life and Death of Vincent Van Gogh. Paul wrote that in his Arles days, van Gogh called himself 'a simple worshiper of the external Buddha.' Paul told me that in those days, Vincent wrote:

Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map.

Why, I ask myself, shouldn't the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France?

Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star. We cannot get to a star any more when we are alive than we can take the train when we are dead. So to me it seems possible that cholera, tuberculosis and cancer are the celestial means of locomotion. Just as steamboats, buses and railways are the terrestrial means.

To die simply of old age would be to go there on foot.

That is a lovely thing to read, and a relief to find I will probably take the celestial locomotive. Or, as the little dog, Milou, says whenever Tintin proposes a journey, 'Not by foot, I hope!'"[286]

Death and legacy

[edit]

On April 4, 2013, Ebert died at age 70 at a hospital in Chicago, shortly before he was set to return to his home and enter hospice care.[3][287][288][289]

President Barack Obama wrote, "For a generation of Americans — and especially Chicagoans — Roger was the movies... [he could capture] the unique power of the movies to take us somewhere magical. ... The movies won't be the same without Roger."[290] Martin Scorsese released a statement saying, "The death of Roger Ebert is an incalculable loss for movie culture and for film criticism. And it's a loss for me personally... there was a professional distance between us, but then I could talk to him much more freely than I could to other critics. Really, Roger was my friend. It's that simple."[291]

Steven Spielberg stated that Ebert's "reviews went far deeper than simply thumbs up or thumbs down. He wrote with passion through a real knowledge of film and film history, and in doing so, helped many movies find their audiences... [He] put television criticism on the map."[292] Numerous celebrities paid tribute including Christopher Nolan, Oprah Winfrey, Steve Martin, Albert Brooks, Jason Reitman, Ron Howard, Darren Aronofsky, Larry King, Cameron Crowe, Werner Herzog, Howard Stern, Steve Carell, Stephen Fry, Diablo Cody, Anna Kendrick, Jimmy Kimmel, and Patton Oswalt.[293]

Michael Phillips of the Chicago Tribune recalled that "I came late to film criticism in Chicago, after writing about the theater. Roger loved the theater. His was a theatrical personality: a raconteur, a spinner of dinner-table stories, a man who was not shy about his accomplishments. But he made room in that theatrical, improbable, outsized life for others."[294] Andrew O'Hehir of Salon wrote that "He's up there with Will Rogers, H. L. Mencken, A. J. Liebling and not too far short of Mark Twain as one of the great plainspoken commentators on American life."[295]

Peter Debruge wrote "Ebert's negative reviews were invariably his most entertaining, and yet, he never insulted those who found something to admire in lesser films. Instead, he hoped to enlighten readers, challenging them to think, while whetting their appetite for stronger work ... It's a testament to Ebert's gift that, after a life spent writing about film, he made us love the movies all the more. ...I’ve always suspected the reason he settled into this profession is that film reviews, as he wrote them, served as a Trojan horse for the delivery of bigger philosophical ideas, of which he had an inexhaustible supply to share."[73]

"No one has done as much as Roger to connect the creators of movies with their consumers. He has immense power, and he’s used it for good, as an apostle of cinema. Reading his work, or listening to him parse the shots of some notable film, the movie lover is also engaged with an alert mind constantly discovering things — discovering them to share them. That’s what a great teacher does, and what Roger’s done as a writer, public personality and friend to film for all these years. And, dammit, keep on doing."

Richard Corliss, film critic for Time[67]

The Onion paid tribute to Ebert: "Calling the overall human existence 'poignant,' 'thought-provoking,' and 'a complete tour de force,' film critic Roger Ebert praised existence as 'an audacious and thrilling triumph.'...'At times brutally sad, yet surprisingly funny, and always completely honest, I wholeheartedly recommend existence. If you haven't experienced it yet, what are you waiting for? It is not to be missed.' Ebert later said that while human existence's running time was 'a little on the long side' it could have gone on much, much longer and he would have been perfectly happy."[296]

Hundreds of people attended the funeral Mass held at Chicago's Holy Name Cathedral on April 8, 2013, where Ebert was celebrated as a film critic, newspaperman, advocate for social justice, and husband. Father Michael Pfleger concluded the service with "the balconies of heaven are filled with angels singing 'Thumbs Up' ".[297] Reverend John F. Costello of Loyola University delivered a homily for Ebert.[298] After the funeral service, he was buried at Graceland Cemetery in Chicago, Illinois[299]

A documentary adaptation of Life Itself (2014), directed by Steve James, premiered at the Sundance Film Festival.[300][301] The film was executive produced by Martin Scorsese and includes interviews with Scorsese, Ava DuVernay, Werner Herzog, Errol Morris and numerous critics. The film received critical acclaim and received numerous accolades including a Emmy Award, Producers Guild of America Award and Critics' Choice Movie Award.

Memorials

[edit]
An image of a bronze statue of Roger Ebert outside of a movie theater.
A statue of Roger Ebert giving his "thumbs up" outside the Virginia Theatre in Champaign, Illinois

A nearly-three-hour public tribute, entitled Roger Ebert: A Celebration of Life, was held on April 11, 2013, at the Chicago Theatre. It featured in-person remembrances, video testimonials, video and film clips, and gospel choirs, and was, according to the Chicago Tribune's Mark Caro, "a laughter- and sorrow-filled send-off from the entertainment and media worlds."[302]

In September 2013, organizers in Champaign, Illinois, announced plans to raise $125,000 to build a life-size bronze statue of Roger Ebert in the town, which was unveiled in front of the Virginia Theatre at Ebertfest on April 24, 2014.[303] The composition was selected by his widow, Chaz Ebert, and depicts Ebert sitting in the middle of three theater seats giving a "thumbs up."[304][305]

The 2013 Toronto International Film Festival opened with a video tribute of Ebert at Roy Thomson Hall during the world premiere of the WikiLeaks-based film The Fifth Estate. Ebert had been an avid supporter of the festival since its inception in the 1970s.[306] Chaz was in attendance to accept a plaque on Roger's behalf.[307] At the same festival, Errol Morris dedicated his film The Unknown Known to Ebert, saying "He was a really fabulous part of my life, a good friend, a champion, an inspiring writer. I loved Roger."[308]

In August 2013, the Plaza Classic Film Festival in El Paso, Texas, paid homage to Ebert by screening seven films that played a role in his life: Citizen Kane, The Third Man, Tokyo Story, La Dolce Vita, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, Fitzcarraldo and Goodfellas.[309]

At the 86th Academy Awards ceremony, Ebert was included in the in memoriam montage, a rare honor for a film critic.[310][311]

In 2014, the documentary Life Itself was released. Director Steve James, whose films had been widely advocated by Ebert, started making the documentary while Ebert was still alive. Martin Scorsese served as an executive producer. The film studies Ebert's life and career, while also filming Ebert during his final months, and includes interviews with his family and friends. It was universally praised by critics. It has a 98% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes.[312]

Werner Herzog told Entertainment Weekly that Ebert was "a soldier of the cinema": "I always loved Roger for being the good soldier, not only the good soldier of cinema, but he was a wounded soldier who for years in his affliction held out and plowed on and soldiered on and held the outpost that was given up by almost everyone: The monumental shift now is that intelligent, deep discourse about cinema has been something that has been vanishing over the last maybe two decades...I've always tried to be a good soldier of cinema myself, so of course since he's gone, I will plow on, as I have plowed on all my life, but I will do what I have to do as if Roger was looking over my shoulder. And I am not gonna disappoint him."[313]

Ebert was inducted as a laureate of The Lincoln Academy of Illinois. In 2001, the governor of Illinois awarded him the state's highest honor, the Order of Lincoln, in the area of performing arts.[314] In 2016, Ebert was inducted into the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame.[315]

The website RogerEbert.com contains an archive of every review Ebert wrote, as well as many essays and opinion pieces. The site, operated by Ebert Digital (a partnership between Chaz and friend Josh Golden), continues to publish new material written by a group of critics who were selected by Ebert before his death.[316]

In November of 2025, the Chicago Cultural Center scheduled a series of events to mark the 50th anniversary of the "Siskel & Ebert" show.[317]

Awards and honors

[edit]

Ebert received many awards during his long and distinguished career as a film critic and television host. He was the first film critic to ever win a Pulitzer Prize, receiving the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism in 1975 while working for the Chicago Sun-Times, "for his film criticism during 1974".[318][319]

In 2003, Ebert was honored by the American Society of Cinematographers, winning a Special Achievement Award. In 2005, Ebert became the first film critic to receive a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, for his work on television. His star is located at 6834 Hollywood Boulevard.[320][43] That same year, he was honored with a sidewalk plaque at the Chicago Theatre on the city-decreed "Roger Ebert Day".[321] In 2009, Ebert received the Directors Guild of America Award's for Honorary Life Member Award.[322] In 2010, Ebert received the Webby Award for Person of the Year.[323]

In 2007, Ebert was honored by the Gotham Awards receiving a tribute and award for his lifetime contributions to independent film.[324]

On January 31, 2009, Ebert was made an honorary life member of the Directors Guild of America.[325],On May 15, 2009, Ebert was honored by the American Pavilion at the Cannes Film Festival by the renaming of its conference room, "The Roger Ebert Conference Center." Martin Scorsese joined Ebert and his wife Chaz at the ribbon-cutting ceremony.[326] On May 4, 2010, Ebert was announced by the International Academy of Digital Arts and Sciences as the Webby Person of the Year, having found a voice on the Internet following his battle with cancer.[327]

Year Award Category Nominated work Result
1979 Chicago Emmy Awards Outstanding Special Program Sneak Previews Won
1984 Primetime Emmy Award Outstanding Informational Series At the Movies Nominated
1985 Nominated
1987 Siskel & Ebert & the Movies Nominated
1988 Nominated
1989 Daytime Emmy Awards Outstanding Special Class Program Nominated
1990 Nominated
1991 Nominated
1992 Primetime Emmy Awards Outstanding Informational Series Nominated
1994 Nominated
1997 Nominated
2005 Chicago Emmy Awards Silver Circle Award Won

Honors

Published works

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Each year from 1986 to 1998, Ebert published Roger Ebert's Movie Home Companion (retitled Roger Ebert's Video Companion for its last five installments), which collected all of his movie reviews to that point. From 1999 to 2013 (except in 2008), Ebert instead published Roger Ebert's Movie Yearbook, a collection of all of his movie reviews from the previous two and a half years (for example, the 2011 edition, ISBN 978-0-7407-9769-9, covers January 2008 – July 2010.) Both series also included yearly essays, interviews, and other writings. He also wrote the following books:

See also

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Notes

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References

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Sources

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Further reading

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Revisions and contributorsEdit on WikipediaRead on Wikipedia
from Grokipedia
Roger James Ebert (June 18, 1942 – April 4, 2013) was an American critic, , , and who served as the primary reviewer for the from 1967 until his death. He became the first critic to receive the for Distinguished Criticism in 1975, recognizing his insightful and influential commentary on cinema. Ebert's reviews were syndicated in hundreds of newspapers, reaching millions of readers, while his co-hosting of the television series Siskel & Ebert (later Ebert & Roeper) from 1975 onward popularized criticism through accessible debates and the iconic "two thumbs up" verdict. Ebert's career spanned over four decades, during which he authored more than 15 books on film, including annual compilations of reviews and essay collections like I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie, and early screenplays such as Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970). His approach emphasized narrative clarity, emotional resonance, and technical craft over abstract theory, often defending populist entertainments against elitist dismissal while critiquing films he deemed manipulative or poorly executed, such as his infamous pans of North (1994) and Crash (1996). These strong stances sparked debates and feuds within the industry, including clashes with directors like over Blue Velvet (1986), underscoring his role in shaping public discourse on movies. Diagnosed with and cancer in 2002, Ebert underwent multiple surgeries that removed part of his and voice box, rendering him unable to speak or eat normally from 2006 onward, yet he persisted in writing reviews via and computer-generated voice for television appearances. He died from complications of the cancer at age 70 in . Ebert received a star on the in 2005, the only one awarded to a , reflecting his enduring impact on democratizing appreciation.

Early Years

Childhood and Family Influences

Roger Ebert was born on June 18, 1942, in Urbana, Illinois, as the sole child of Walter Harry Ebert and Annabel (née Stumm) Ebert. His father, born in 1901 or 1902 in Urbana to German immigrant parents—Joachim "Joseph" Ebert, a machinist, and Katharina Ebert—worked as an electrician at the University of Illinois, maintaining electrical systems on campus. His mother, born around 1911 to William H. Stumm and Anna B. (Gleeson) Stumm—a couple of Dutch-Irish-German descent who farmed near Taylorville, Illinois—served as a bookkeeper and later held leadership roles such as president of the Urbana PTA. The family resided in a modest home on Washington Street in Urbana, situated near the university campus, which exposed Ebert to an academic environment from an early age. Ebert's upbringing in this working-to-middle-class household emphasized self-reliance and intellectual curiosity, with his parents providing a stable foundation amid the post-Depression and wartime era. He later reflected on his father's influence in essays, portraying Walter as a diligent, apolitical figure whose manual labor and immigrant heritage instilled practical values like perseverance, though Ebert noted their limited emotional closeness due to generational differences. Annabel, more engaged in community and educational activities, encouraged reading and local involvement, yet Ebert's memoirs reveal tensions, including her later controlling tendencies that he attributed to unresolved personal insecurities rather than overt childhood conflict. This dynamic fostered Ebert's independent streak, as he pursued writing and journalism early, independent of direct parental guidance in those pursuits. While Ebert's family lacked deep ties to the film industry, the proximity to the and Urbana's local theaters indirectly shaped his formative exposure to cinema and , complementing the self-directed habits he developed in a single-child household without siblings to compete for attention. He credited this environment with nurturing his voracious reading—devouring newspapers and books by age 10—but emphasized personal agency over familial molding in his path toward criticism.

Education and Formative Experiences

Ebert attended Urbana High School in , graduating in 1960 as and co-editor of the school newspaper, while also covering sports for the Champaign-Urbana News-Gazette starting at age 15. These early journalistic efforts, including emceeing school stage shows and contributing articles, fostered his command of language and public engagement, laying groundwork for his later career. At the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Ebert majored in , spending extensive time on the student newspaper, the Daily Illini, where he advanced to editor and published his first byline on music topics in 1960. He graduated with a in journalism in 1964, having immersed himself in reporting and editing that emphasized practical experience over theory, which he later credited for shaping his direct, accessible prose style. Following graduation, Ebert received a Rotary fellowship for a year of study at the in , where he engaged with local Rotary clubs amid apartheid conditions, broadening his worldview through firsthand observation of social dynamics. He then enrolled in a Ph.D. program in English at the in 1966 but departed after brief attendance to accept a reporting position at the Chicago Sun-Times, prioritizing professional application of his skills. This progression from student journalism to real-world immersion proved pivotal, transitioning him from local writing to broader cultural commentary.

Professional Career

Entry into Journalism and Early Criticism (1967–1974)

Following his graduation from the University of Illinois in 1964 with a degree, Ebert began his professional career at the , initially contributing to the newspaper's Sunday magazine as a feature writer starting in 1966. On April 3, 1967, at age 24, he was appointed the paper's film critic, succeeding longtime reviewer Will Leonard, who had shifted to other duties. This transition marked Ebert's entry into dedicated , a role he would hold for the next 46 years. Ebert's debut review appeared on April 7, 1967, covering the French film Galia directed by Georges Lautner, which he critiqued for its superficial handling of themes despite visual appeal, opening with the line: "Georges Lautner's Galia opens and closes with arty shots of the ocean, mother of and all that." His early reviews demonstrated an accessible yet discerning style, blending personal insight with analysis of narrative and character, often favoring films with emotional resonance over mere technical prowess. By 1967, Ebert also began compiling annual top-10 film lists, a practice he maintained throughout his career, reflecting his systematic approach to evaluating the year's output. During this period, Ebert expanded beyond reviewing into screenwriting, collaborating with exploitation filmmaker on the 1970 satirical film Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, a loose sequel to the 1967 drama Valley of the Dolls. Ebert provided the from a story co-developed with Meyer, infusing the project with campy excess, , and on fame and excess, though he later distanced himself from it in a 1980 reassessment, assigning it zero stars for its narrative incoherence. This venture highlighted Ebert's early willingness to engage directly with film production, informed by his critical perspective, while his Sun-Times columns increasingly explored cinema's cultural impact, establishing him as a prominent voice in Midwestern journalism.

Rise with Siskel & Ebert (1975–1999)

In 1975, Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel, film critics for rival Chicago newspapers—the Chicago Sun-Times and Chicago Tribune, respectively—were invited by public television station WTTW to host a monthly local review program titled Opening Soon at a Theater Near You. The pilot episode aired on November 23, 1975, featuring discussions of films such as Jaws and Nashville. Due to strong viewer response, the show transitioned to a weekly format in 1976 and was renamed Sneak Previews by October 1977, expanding to national syndication on PBS stations across the United States. This partnership marked Ebert's entry into television, transforming his print-based criticism into a visually engaging format that emphasized debate and accessibility, drawing an estimated audience of millions by the early 1980s. The duo's on-screen dynamic, characterized by sharp disagreements and personal banter, became a hallmark of the program, with Ebert often praising narrative-driven films while Siskel favored more journalistic scrutiny of content and production. In , they introduced the "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" verdict system as a concise viewer-friendly summary, originating from phrases in their reviews rather than classical references; a unanimous "two thumbs up" endorsement gained status and influenced public perception of films. By 1982, amid disputes with over content control, Ebert and Siskel moved to commercial syndication with , launching At the Movies with Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, which premiered on September 13, 1982, and reached over 200 stations. The show retained its core format of reviewing new releases, interviewing filmmakers, and debating cinematic trends, boosting Ebert's profile as a national authority on . In 1986, the program was rebranded as Siskel & Ebert, reflecting equal billing and continuing in syndication until Siskel's death from brain cancer on February 20, 1999. Over 24 years, the series aired more than 1,300 episodes, pioneering the television movie review genre and elevating film discourse by prioritizing substantive analysis over celebrity gossip, though critics noted occasional oversimplification in the thumbs system. Ebert credited the partnership with honing his critical voice through Siskel's challenges, stating in a posthumous that their fostered deeper insights, while the show's success—evidenced by Emmy nominations and high ratings—solidified Ebert's transition from regional to cultural influencer. Despite their competitive origins, off-screen friendship developed, as Ebert later described them as "like tuning forks" resonating in criticism.

Transition to Ebert & Roeper and Solo Ventures (2000–2006)

Following the death of Gene Siskel from a brain tumor on February 20, 1999, Roger Ebert continued the syndicated television review program with a series of guest co-hosts. In August 2000, Richard Roeper, a columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times, joined as the permanent co-host, marking the transition to a new duo dynamic. The show, initially titled Ebert & Roeper and the Movies, was shortened to Ebert & Roeper in September 2001, retaining the thumbs-up/thumbs-down format while adapting to Roeper's style, which emphasized broader cultural commentary alongside Ebert's film analysis. Ebert's partnership with Roeper sustained the program's popularity through the early , with episodes reviewing major releases and debating cinematic merits in the duo's signature argumentative yet collegial manner. In 2002, Ebert faced a personal health crisis when diagnosed with , undergoing surgery and radiation that initially allowed him to maintain his television schedule. The cancer recurred with salivary gland tumors in 2003, yet Ebert persisted in hosting, appearing in hundreds of episodes that covered the era's blockbusters and independents. By August 2006, complications from tumor-related —including the removal of part of his lower —left Ebert unable to speak or appear on camera, effectively ending his on-air involvement with the show after over three decades in television criticism. Roeper continued briefly with guest hosts, but Ebert shifted focus to written work as his primary outlet. During this period, he sustained solo ventures through annual publications like Roger Ebert's Movie Yearbook 2006, compiling reviews from 2003 to mid-2005 alongside essays on film trends. These yearbooks, produced yearly since the late , exemplified Ebert's independent critical output, drawing on his Sun-Times columns to offer detailed, accessible evaluations unbound by television constraints.

Expansion via RogerEbert.com and Later Projects (2007–2013)

Following complications from thyroid cancer surgeries that resulted in the loss of his ability to speak in 2006, Ebert intensified his focus on written output and digital platforms. He maintained his role as film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, producing reviews such as four-star endorsements for Michael Clayton (2007) and American Gangster (2007). Through RogerEbert.com, which served as an archive for his writings, Ebert expanded his reach by incorporating personal essays and film analysis, fostering an online community via his journal entries that often garnered thousands of comments. Ebert hosted the annual Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival (Ebertfest) in Champaign-Urbana, , throughout this period, showcasing underappreciated films with in-person appearances despite his health challenges; the 2007 edition featured 13 films including Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, with guests like . The festival, founded by Ebert in 1999, continued annually until his death, emphasizing narrative-driven and innovative cinema. In 2011, Ebert published the memoir Life Itself, chronicling his career, personal struggles, and reflections on criticism, which drew from his posts about cancer and recovery. That year, he delivered a TED talk titled "Remaking My Voice," demonstrating a computer-synthesized voice created from pre-illness recordings to restore his ability to communicate audibly. Ebert also experimented with digital tools for expression, including posts on adapting to voicelessness while affirming his ongoing engagement with . By early 2013, Ebert announced plans to relaunch an enhanced version of under his own entity, Ebert Digital LLC, aiming to broaden its scope with additional contributors and independent operation from the Sun-Times. This move reflected his vision for a robust online hub for discourse, though he passed away on April 4, 2013, from cancer-related complications before fully realizing it. His efforts during this era underscored a transition to digital longevity, preserving his influence through archived reviews, personal narratives, and curated events.

Critical Methodology

Core Principles and Review Style

Ebert's approach to film criticism centered on the emotional authenticity of the viewing experience, asserting that "your intellect may be confused, but your emotions will never lie to you." This principle guided his evaluations, prioritizing subjective emotional impact over purely intellectual or technical dissection, as he argued movies succeed or fail based on their ability to engage audiences viscerally rather than through abstract analysis alone. In defining "," Ebert applied an emotional criterion: films that left him "sitting transfixed before the screen, involved, committed, and feeling," often those that moved him deeply regardless of or innovation. For ratings, Ebert employed a four-star system in his reviews, where stars reflected overall quality and rewatchability, but adapted the binary "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" for television alongside starting in the 1975 series . This simplified judgment, trademarked as "two thumbs up" for consensus praise, aimed to deliver clear verdicts for general viewers, boiling down complex assessments to whether a merited time and admission price. He defended the thumbs system against critics who favored nuanced scales, noting it mirrored audience decision-making without diluting into equivocation. Ebert's style emphasized accessibility and utility, advising aspiring critics to focus on whether a warranted attendance rather than exhaustive synopses or spoilers, which he strictly avoided to preserve viewer discovery. Reviews functioned as discussions of experiential value—narrative coherence, character empathy, and sensory immersion—while eschewing condescension, even toward flawed works, to inform rather than alienate readers. This populist ethos, rooted in his journalistic background, contrasted with academic criticism by valuing broad appeal and emotional resonance as primary measures of cinematic merit.

Emphasis on Accessibility and Narrative Analysis

Ebert prioritized in his by employing straightforward language that appealed to general audiences rather than academic or elitist readers, contrasting with more esoteric styles of contemporaries like . His reviews avoided dense jargon, focusing instead on relatable explanations of a film's strengths or flaws, empowering viewers to form their own judgments without condescension. This approach stemmed from his journalistic background at the , where he wrote for everyday readers, emphasizing clarity over intellectual posturing. A hallmark of this accessibility was the "thumbs up/thumbs down" rating system he co-developed with for their television program, debuting in 1975 on . This binary verdict provided an immediate, intuitive gauge of a film's worth, bypassing numerical scales or verbose qualifiers to directly inform public decision-making at the . Ebert defended the system as a populist tool, arguing it mirrored natural human gestures and encouraged debate among viewers, though critics later contended it oversimplified complex art. In narrative analysis, Ebert evaluated films primarily through their efficacy, assessing how plots, characters, and emotional arcs sustained audience engagement and conveyed humanistic truths. He often dissected in reviews, examining whether a story coherently built tension, developed believable motivations, or evoked empathy, rather than prioritizing technical or signatures alone. For instance, he praised films like (1942) for their seamless integration of romance and wartime intrigue, where character decisions drove the plot's moral resonance, while critiquing disjointed narratives in works like Crash (2004) for contrived coincidences that undermined realism. This focus reflected his belief that effective cinema operated as narrative vehicles for universal experiences, judged by their ability to "work" on an emotional level for broad audiences. Ebert's method extended to visual storytelling cues, as outlined in his 1977 essay "How to Read a Movie," where he instructed readers to interpret camera angles, , and framing as tools enhancing depth—high angles diminishing characters to insignificance, for example, to underscore thematic isolation. He cautioned against excessive plot spoilers beyond setups but routinely analyzed early beats to illustrate pacing or character introductions, prioritizing comprehension of story mechanics over preservation of surprise. This pragmatic emphasis democratized critique, enabling non-experts to appreciate how films constructed meaning through sequential events and interpersonal dynamics.

Departures from Traditional Criticism

Ebert's collaboration with on the television program [Sneak Previews](/page/Sneak Previews), beginning in 1975 on and later syndicated, marked a significant shift by transforming into an accessible, debate-driven format broadcast to mass audiences, contrasting with the solitary, essayistic style prevalent in print media. This approach emphasized verbal sparring and immediate verdicts over extended analysis, prioritizing entertainment value and viewer relatability over academic dissection. A core innovation was the "thumbs up" or "thumbs down" system, formalized in the early 1980s as a binary visual cue tailored to television's brevity, diverging from traditional numerical scales like stars or percentages used in newspapers. Ebert explained that thumbs avoided the precision implied by stars, allowing for subjective emphasis on overall recommendation rather than granular scoring, and the phrase "two thumbs up" became a trademarked hallmark by 1980. This method, while criticized by some for oversimplifying complex artistry into reductive judgments, democratized by enabling quick comprehension for non-expert viewers, fostering a cultural shorthand that influenced public discourse on films. Unlike contemporaries such as , whose contrarian, impressionistic essays often privileged stylistic bravura and cultural provocation over broad appeal, Ebert adopted a populist lens, evaluating films primarily on their emotional resonance, narrative coherence, and capacity to engage ordinary audiences. He reviewed thousands more titles annually than many peers, spanning blockbusters, independents, and genres without inherent snobbery toward commercial fare, provided it delivered on humanistic or storytelling merits—a stance rooted in his view of cinema as an "empathy machine" rather than elite artifact. This inclusivity extended to positive assessments of popular entertainments like Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), which he co-scripted, challenging orthodox dismissals of exploitation cinema. Ebert's methodology further departed by integrating personal evolution into critiques; he revisited and revised opinions on films like North (1994), initially panned but later reconsidered for overlooked qualities, prioritizing experiential growth over dogmatic consistency favored in traditional circles. His prose, while informed by technical and historical knowledge, eschewed ostentatious displays of erudition, focusing instead on practical insights for consumers—evident in books like I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie (1994), where visceral reactions underscored audience utility over theoretical purity. Critics attributing a decline in depth to these adaptations often overlook how Ebert's expansions, including online forums via from 2007, sustained discourse amid media fragmentation.

Film Opinions and Selectivity

Preferred Genres, Directors, and Canonical Favorites

Ebert's critical preferences leaned toward genres that prioritized emotional authenticity, narrative coherence, and humanistic insight over stylistic excess or commercial formula. In his "" collection, drama dominated with 294 entries, reflecting a core affinity for character-driven stories exploring personal and societal conflicts, while foreign-language films numbered 150, underscoring his advocacy for international cinema that challenged American parochialism. He also appreciated select entries in thriller (70), (61), and action (53), provided they integrated psychological depth, as seen in his praise for films like for its moral ambiguity and atmospheric tension. Comedy (76) and romance (79) appealed when rooted in relatable human folly or connection, but he critiqued superficial genre exercises lacking substance. Horror held a niche appeal for its primal explorations of fear and the uncanny; among his 16 favorites were Werner Herzog's (1979) for its poetic dread and Robert Wiene's (1920) for expressionist innovation, though he dismissed many slasher films as derivative. Classic musicals like (1964) and (1935) earned acclaim for their rhythmic storytelling and cultural snapshot value. Among directors, Ebert singled out as the preeminent American filmmaker of his era, lauding his visceral command of urban grit, Catholic guilt, and redemptive arcs in works like (1976), which Ebert deemed a profound character study of alienation. He championed emerging or underappreciated talents early, including for inventive populism in (1985), Alejandro Iñárritu for raw emotional realism, and for technical mastery in (2006), using his platform to elevate them beyond niche audiences. Influences from global masters shaped his tastes, with frequent nods to Akira Kurosawa's epic humanism, Alfred Hitchcock's suspense mechanics, Stanley Kubrick's philosophical rigor, and Federico Fellini's surreal introspection as benchmarks for transcendent filmmaking. Ebert's canonical favorites materialized in his "Great Movies" series, a curated essay collection spanning over 300 films he viewed as enduring exemplars of cinematic art, emphasizing transcendent emotional or intellectual impact over transient hype. Standouts included (1941) for its innovative narrative fragmentation, (1942) for archetypal romance amid wartime moral complexity, and (1968) for metaphysical ambition, each dissected in reflective pieces highlighting structural and thematic mastery. His informal top ten greatest films eschewed strict ranking but featured (1953) as a pinnacle of familial disintegration, alongside (1972) for operatic power dynamics and (1959) for Hitchcockian precision. Annual top-ten lists from 1967 to 2012 further canonized yearly standouts like (1967) and (1972), prioritizing films that reshaped genre conventions or cultural discourse. These selections consistently favored works with verifiable rewatch value and universal resonance, as Ebert argued great films "made for forever" through their capacity to illuminate human conditions anew.

Annual and Decade Best-Of Lists

Ebert annually compiled top ten lists of the year's best films from 1967, when he began writing film reviews for the , through 2012, the year before his death. These lists emphasized films that excelled in narrative depth, character development, and humanistic themes, often favoring works with strong emotional resonance over commercial blockbusters, though he included mainstream successes when merited. His selections drew from films he reviewed, typically those earning four-star ratings, and were published in the Sun-Times and later archived on , providing a chronological record of his evolving critical priorities amid shifting industry trends like the rise of independent cinema in the and digital effects in the 2000s. Notable annual lists highlighted diverse influences; for 1991, Ebert ranked Oliver Stone's JFK first for its bold historical inquiry, followed by and The Silence of the Lambs, valuing audacious storytelling over consensus acclaim. In 2006, Guillermo del Toro's topped the list for intertwining fantasy with wartime realism, with and rounding out early spots, underscoring his appreciation for visually inventive genre films. By 2011, amid his health challenges, by led as a profound domestic drama, joined by The Tree of Life and , reflecting sustained preference for introspective international entries. For decade retrospectives, Ebert curated selective best-of lists less frequently, focusing on standout achievements across broader periods. His 2000s compilation, published in 2009, placed Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York at number one for its metaphysical exploration of existence, ahead of The Hurt Locker, Monster, and Juno, prioritizing ambitious, character-driven works over populist hits and including lesser-known indies like Chop Shop. Earlier decades saw similar exercises; for the 1980s, he highlighted Raging Bull as preeminent for Martin Scorsese's raw depiction of self-destruction, with The Right Stuff, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and Do the Right Thing following, balancing auteur visions and cultural milestones. These decade lists reinforced his methodology of retrospective validation, often elevating films that aged well in thematic potency rather than initial box-office performance.

Contrarian Positions on Acclaimed Films

Ebert occasionally diverged from critical consensus on films that garnered widespread acclaim, including Oscar nominations and enduring cultural status, by prioritizing narrative coherence, emotional authenticity, and avoidance of manipulative sentimentality in his evaluations. For instance, in his review of (1989), which earned an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor and received broad praise for its inspirational themes, Ebert awarded it two out of four stars, criticizing it as "a collection of pious platitudes masquerading as a courageous stand in favor of something." He argued that the film's premise of an unconventional teacher inspiring students echoed familiar tropes without sufficient depth, dismissing the poetic elements as selectively deployed to serve individualistic rather than genuine literary engagement. Similarly, Ebert's assessment of The Elephant Man (1980), directed by David Lynch and nominated for eight Oscars including Best Picture, stood at two stars, where he deemed it "pure sentimentalism" lacking substantive exploration of its subject's humanity beyond superficial pity. Despite the film's black-and-white cinematography and strong performances earning high regard from peers—such as Gene Siskel's positive review—Ebert contended it prioritized grotesque visuals and Victorian-era exploitation over a rigorous examination of deformity's social implications, ultimately reducing Merrick to a vehicle for audience tears. Other notable contrarian stances included A Clockwork Orange (1971), a Stanley Kubrick landmark with four Oscar nominations, which Ebert rated two stars for its "ideological mess" and failure to evoke sympathy for protagonist Alex amid ultraviolence. He extended this skepticism to Fight Club (1999), a David Fincher cult favorite with an Oscar-winning screenplay adaptation, assigning it two stars and labeling it "macho porn" whose philosophical underpinnings rang hollow upon scrutiny of its anarchic themes. In The Usual Suspects (1995), which won two Oscars including Best Original Screenplay, Ebert gave 1.5 stars, faulting its plot for manipulative twists that bewildered rather than rewarded viewer investment. These positions reflected Ebert's broader methodology of judging films on accessible emotional impact over stylistic innovation or genre provocation, often prioritizing story logic against hype-driven reverence.

Engagement with Media Evolution

Stance on Video Games as Art

Roger Ebert expressed a firm opposition to classifying video games as , arguing that their interactive nature inherently prevents them from achieving the qualities of traditional artistic forms. In an April 16, 2010, blog post responding to game designer Kellee Santiago's TED presentation, Ebert stated, "No can ever be art," emphasizing that requires a unilateral imposition of the artist's vision upon a passive , as in , , or , whereas games demand player participation that dilutes authorial control and turns the experience into a collaborative or competitive activity rather than contemplative reception. He likened games to sports or puzzles, forms of that engage the participant actively but lack the fixed, interpretive depth of art, where the creator's intent guides the viewer's emotional or intellectual response without interference. Ebert's position drew significant backlash from and developers, prompting exchanges such as his December 2012 debate with programmer Clif Barker, where he reiterated that even sophisticated games like prioritize mechanics over artistic transcendence, failing to evoke the same profound, non-interactive empathy as canonical films. In a follow-up piece that same month, he conceded the phrasing "never" was overly absolute and regretted publicizing the view, noting, "Some opinions are best kept to yourself," yet reaffirmed his core belief that video games, by principle, cannot constitute due to their reliance on player agency over singular authorship. This stance aligned with Ebert's broader critical methodology, which prioritized narrative coherence and emotional resonance in media evaluated through a lens of fixed artistic intent rather than emergent .

Perspectives on Digital Distribution and Home Viewing

Ebert regarded the advent of home video technologies, including tapes in the 1980s and DVDs from the late onward, as transformative for film accessibility, enabling audiences to own, revisit, and analyze movies independently of theatrical schedules. These formats facilitated features like chapter selections, director commentaries, and , which he praised for deepening viewer engagement and preserving cinematic history by making obscure titles available outside limited releases. As digital distribution evolved, Ebert anticipated the decline of , noting in December 2012 that streaming revenues were projected to exceed DVD sales that year, driven by platforms like and signaling a broader shift toward on-demand home consumption. He actively used 's service alongside its streaming offerings, appreciating the convenience but critiquing streaming's technical limitations, such as occasional buffering on services like and the inferiority of compressed video quality compared to Blu-ray discs, which offered superior fidelity and supplemental content. Ebert voiced specific reservations about streaming's impact on content diversity, arguing in March 2012 that had largely abandoned acquiring streaming rights for independent films, prioritizing mainstream blockbusters and thereby restricting home viewers' exposure to arthouse and niche cinema. He supported 's pricing restructuring to separate DVD and streaming tiers, viewing it as necessary for , yet urged expansion of its to include underrepresented categories like silent films, foreign-language works, and filmed operas. Despite these endorsements of home viewing's —enabled by cheaper digital replication and distribution, which lowered barriers for non-blockbuster s—Ebert cautioned studios about heightened risks inherent in easily shareable digital files, a concern he raised in his reflections on video yearbooks. He contrasted this with his preference for analog in theaters for its tactile immersion, positioning home digital formats as complementary rather than superior, though essential for sustaining culture amid shrinking theatrical audiences.

Interactions with Filmmakers and Industry Debates

Ebert maintained professional relationships with numerous filmmakers, often conducting in-depth interviews that influenced public perception of their work. He frequently praised as "the most gifted director of his generation" and America's finest filmmaker, conducting multiple interviews and championing films like (1973) from Scorsese's early career. Scorsese reciprocated this admiration, dedicating his 2011 film Hugo to Ebert and stating after Ebert's death in 2013 that his passing represented "an incalculable loss for movie culture and for ." Similarly, Ebert interviewed on several occasions, including a 2012 discussion where Spielberg described Ebert's reviews as pivotal to his career trajectory, and Ebert defended Spielberg's blockbusters against elitist critiques by emphasizing their narrative craftsmanship. One notable direct collaboration occurred with exploitation director , for whom Ebert penned the screenplay to Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970), a satirical entry in Meyer's oeuvre that Ebert initially viewed as a paid gig but later critiqued for its excesses while acknowledging its cult appeal. Ebert also supported independent and foreign directors such as and , endorsing their works to broader audiences despite mainstream skepticism. These interactions underscored Ebert's approach of evaluating films on merit rather than personal ties, as he articulated in conversations where he separated artistic output from the filmmaker's character. Ebert engaged in pointed debates with industry figures, most prominently criticizing the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) for its inconsistencies, particularly in penalizing language over graphic violence. In a 1999 Variety column, he advocated for an additional "A" rating for mature audiences to replace the restrictive NC-17, arguing it would allow artistic films like (1999) uncensored distribution without conflating adult content with obscenity. By 2010, in a Wall Street Journal , Ebert proposed simplifying ratings to G (general), T (teen), and A (adults only), dismissing PG-13 and R as arbitrary barriers that failed to inform parents accurately. He clashed publicly with MPAA president over these issues, highlighting how the system favored commercial interests over creative freedom, as evidenced in congressional hearings where the Directors Guild challenged MPAA defenses. Specific disputes arose with filmmakers responding to harsh reviews, such as comedian , who in 2008 attacked Ebert personally after a negative assessment of Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo (2005), calling him "a fatso" and wishing his cancer recurrence; Schneider later apologized in 2013 amid Ebert's health struggles. Ebert also feuded with over (2003), deeming it the worst film at that year for its explicit content and pacing, prompting Gallo to retort with insults, though they later reconciled lightheartedly on air. These exchanges illustrated Ebert's willingness to provoke industry debate, prioritizing candid critique over consensus.

Personal Challenges

Alcoholism and Path to Recovery

Roger Ebert struggled with for much of his early adulthood, a condition he later described as involving repeated cycles of heavy drinking, blackouts, and professional lapses despite professional success. His consumption escalated during his time as a film critic for the , where access to alcohol at press screenings, junkets, and social events normalized excessive intake; he recalled drinking a quart of whiskey daily at peaks of his . Ebert hit multiple personal bottoms, including incidents of passing out in public and strained relationships, yet initially denied the problem's severity, attributing issues to external factors rather than alcohol's causal role. In August 1979, Ebert consumed his final drink—a —at his home, marking the end of over a decade of active ; he was 37 years old at the time. Recognizing self-control efforts had failed, he attended his first (AA) meeting shortly thereafter in the building, where a colleague introduced him to the program. AA's structured approach, emphasizing admission of powerlessness over alcohol and reliance on a alongside , proved pivotal; Ebert credited it with providing the framework absent in prior willpower-based attempts. Ebert maintained for the remaining 34 years of his life, achieving over three decades without by 2013. He adhered to AA principles privately until 2009, when, following jaw cancer surgery that physically precluded drinking, he publicly shared his story via blog posts to fulfill AA's twelfth step of carrying the message to others. In essays like "My Name is Roger, and I'm an Alcoholic," he detailed the "drunkalog" of his past, critiquing the denial phase common in alcoholics and underscoring recovery's reliance on community over isolation. This openness extended to his , where he analyzed portrayals with personal insight, as in reviews distinguishing functional drinkers from those spiraling toward destruction. Ebert's sustained recovery coincided with career peaks, including Pulitzer Prizes and television success, demonstrating alcohol's prior hindrance to his potential without implying it defined his achievements.

Marriage and Family Dynamics

Roger Ebert married Hammelsmith, a civil rights lawyer and divorced mother of two children, on July 18, 1992, at age 50. The couple had met several years earlier in social circles, and Ebert later described the union as transformative, crediting Hammelsmith with rescuing him from a solitary bachelor existence. Following the marriage, Hammelsmith—adopting the surname Ebert—resigned from her legal practice to accompany Ebert on his extensive travel for film festivals and professional engagements, facilitating a partnership that blended personal companionship with career support. The Eberts formed a blended without biological children of their own; Ebert became to Chaz's son Josibiah "" Smith and daughter Sonia Evans from her prior marriage to an electrical engineer, which had lasted 17 years and ended in . This expanded to include four grandchildren—, Emil, Mark, and —whom Ebert embraced as part of his household dynamics. Their relationship emphasized mutual attunement and resilience, with Chaz handling administrative aspects of Ebert's media empire while he publicly professed profound affection, characterizing their bond as one of deep emotional and intellectual compatibility sustained over two decades until his death.

Health Decline and Adaptations

Roger Ebert's health deterioration began in earnest with a diagnosis in 2002, followed by the recurrence of salivary gland cancer in 2003, which had initially been treated surgically in 1987. These conditions necessitated multiple surgeries and radiation treatments over the ensuing years. The pivotal decline occurred in 2006 during to address cancer in his and s. On June 16, 2006, Ebert underwent an operation to remove a cancerous growth from his , but complications arose, including a burst that required emergency intervention on July 2, 2006. This led to the removal of part of his lower , a tracheostomy, and the permanent loss of his ability to eat, drink, or speak naturally. Ebert later detailed in his writings that medical professionals had not anticipated these outcomes, particularly the forfeiture of oral functions, which forced him into tube feeding—a condition he termed "nil by mouth." To adapt, Ebert relied on assistive technologies for communication, initially typing responses on a during public appearances and interviews. By , he collaborated on a synthetic voice synthesizer programmed with samples of his pre-illness speech, enabling him to "speak" again through computer-generated audio that mimicked his original . Despite these physical limitations, Ebert maintained his professional output by shifting focus to writing extensive reviews and essays on his personal at , where he candidly chronicled his health struggles and philosophical acceptance of his altered circumstances. He expressed no regret over his trajectory, emphasizing continued engagement with and life until a cancer recurrence in 2013.

Political and Ideological Stance

Liberal Positions and Social Advocacy

Ebert identified as a liberal, having transitioned from his Democratic family background to explicit amid the of the 1950s and 1960s. In 1957, he supported President Dwight D. Eisenhower's deployment of the to enforce desegregation at , countering arguments that federal intervention overstepped authority. His opposition to the manifested early in his career; reviewing The Green Berets (1968), he condemned the film as propagandistic and offensive, not only to war opponents but even to those favoring U.S. policy, highlighting its failure to engage seriously with the conflict's realities. Ebert extended his anti-war stance to later conflicts, critiquing the for entangling the U.S. in subsidies to adversaries and indefinite engagements driven by oil interests rather than security. On gun violence, following the shooting on December 14, 2012—which claimed 26 lives, including 20 children—he advocated pragmatic reforms, decrying "insane" U.S. gun laws that permitted ~270 million civilian firearms and overlooked data showing three-quarters of mass shooting weapons were legally obtained. He called for closing loopholes (which bypassed ~40% of sales) and reinstating bans on assault weapons and high-capacity magazines, noting the 1994 federal ban's role in curbing fatalities before its 2004 expiration. In advocating for gay rights, Ebert evolved to support marriage equality by 2010, publicly endorsing it as a despite religious opposition and giving it "two thumbs up" in line with his broader principle of kindness guiding politics. He defended against , including ' constitutional right to build a near Ground Zero in 2010, rejecting claims it disrespected 9/11 victims. On , Ebert professed personal opposition except when the mother's life was at stake but affirmed a pro-choice position, emphasizing individual freedom over imposition. Ebert's social advocacy intersected with his criticism, as he championed black filmmakers like , engaging racial themes in works such as (1989) with nuance that acknowledged systemic issues while critiquing responses from other white critics. This reflected his commitment to equity in cinema, informed by rather than ideological conformity. Roger Ebert expressed strong reservations about political correctness when it constrained artistic expression and honest discourse in film, viewing it as a form of intellectual censorship that prioritized sanitized portrayals over complex human realities. In a 1990s television discussion with Gene Siskel, Ebert described political correctness as "the fascism of the '90s," warning aspiring critics against allowing it to dictate reviews or suppress personal judgments in favor of ideological conformity. He argued that true criticism requires risk-taking and unfiltered reactions, free from pandering to prevailing sensitivities or public expectations. In a 2012 column, Ebert asserted there is "no place for in film," contending that it compels filmmakers to depict minority characters in reductive stereotypes—such as "savages or spiritual peoples" for Native Americans or perpetual martial artists for Asians—rather than allowing moral ambiguity and full humanity. He defended films like (2003), which portrayed amoral Asian-American teenagers without redemptive arcs, quoting director on rejecting PC-driven sanitization to preserve narrative integrity. Similarly, Ebert questioned backlash against Denzel Washington's corrupt cop in (2001), noting that analogous flawed white characters faced no such scrutiny, and praised works like (2001) and Skins (2002) for eschewing PC restrictions in favor of unvarnished depictions. Ebert also critiqued PC interventions in with film relevance, such as the 2011 edition of that substituted "slave" for "nigger," which he deemed "mealy-minded" for presuming readers incapable of grappling with and language's role in Huck's moral evolution. He contended that such changes stifle intellectual growth, stating, "Anyone offended by the use of that word the way it is used in cannot read and possibly cannot think," and warned that PC erodes critical discourse one censored term at a time. Regarding broader cultural trends, Ebert observed that had evolved by the post-9/11 era into a "mostly reactionary phenomenon," often manifesting on the political right through tactics like the "War on " or "," which he saw as demagoguery undermining civility more than left-leaning sensitivities ever did. Yet he consistently opposed any variant prioritizing emotional reactions over factual analysis, arguing that —while rooted in 1940s personal development—frequently advanced avoidance of offense at the expense of genuine understanding, as evidenced in cultural critiques where feelings "backfire" against persuasive evidence. In his review of Crash (2005), Ebert commended the film's un-PC dialogue, where characters voiced raw prejudices without filters, enabling a more authentic exploration of racial tensions than sanitized alternatives permit. His two-star assessment of PCU (1994), a of campus PC excesses, acknowledged its promising premise critiquing "hotbeds of " but faulted its failure to sustain satirical bite without devolving into preachiness.

Influence of Politics on Film Evaluations

Ebert openly acknowledged that his liberal political perspectives informed his evaluations of films with explicit ideological content, stating in a interview that reviews are inherently subjective and that "when are relevant to a film, why shouldn't I mention it?" This approach manifested in favorable assessments of works critiquing conservative policies, such as his 3.5-out-of-4-star review of Michael Moore's (2004), which he described as a "compelling, persuasive " challenging the administration's post-9/11 decisions—a stance consistent with Ebert's vocal and Bush's leadership. Similarly, his positive reception of Spike Lee's (1989) emphasized its unflinching portrayal of racial tensions in , defending it against critics who accused it of promoting violence and highlighting Ebert's alignment with progressive examinations of systemic inequality. However, Ebert resisted reductive ideological litmus tests, awarding artistic merit to films diverging from his politics when craftsmanship prevailed. His four-star review of Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ (2004)—directed by a figure known for traditionalist Catholic views and later controversies—praised its "passion and obsession," deeming it a powerful depiction of suffering despite its graphic violence and potential to evoke anti-Semitic interpretations, which Ebert addressed but did not let overshadow the film's emotional impact. This selectivity extended to satirical works like Trey Parker and Matt Stone's Team America: World Police (2004), which he critiqued for lacking a substantive point amid its broad mockery of global politics and Hollywood liberals, reflecting his preference for films with coherent thematic depth over mere provocation. Ebert also frequently opposed the intrusion of political correctness into cinematic storytelling and criticism, arguing in a 1990s discussion with that reviewers should prioritize personal reactions over enforced ideological conformity, with Ebert labeling political correctness "the fascism of the '90s." He advocated for narratives unburdened by didactic racial or social agendas unless organically central, as in his endorsement of independent films like Better Luck Tomorrow (2002) that sidestepped expected in favor of authentic character studies. This stance underscored a broader commitment to evaluating films on empathetic and experiential grounds rather than partisan alignment, though his liberal priors demonstrably amplified praise for content reinforcing anti-authoritarian or egalitarian themes.

Controversies and Public Disputes

Feuds with Fellow Critics

Roger Ebert's most notable feud among fellow critics was with , the film reviewer for the , stemming from intense professional rivalry in the competitive Chicago media landscape of the . The two began co-hosting a syndicated television program, initially titled in 1975 on , where their on-air disagreements amplified their off-screen animosity; Ebert and Siskel viewed each other as existential threats to their careers, with Ebert reportedly attempting to undermine Siskel's early television opportunities by alerting producers to his rival's perceived lack of charisma. This hostility manifested in personal slights, such as Ebert excluding Siskel from social events and both critics jockeying for exclusive interviews with filmmakers, reflecting a zero-sum competition for prominence in . Despite the acrimony, their partnership endured and evolved, as the format of public debates sharpened their critiques and boosted viewership; by the , after the show moved to commercial television as At the Movies, underlying tensions persisted but were tempered by mutual professional respect. Ebert later reflected on the dynamic as essential to their success, noting in a 1999 journal entry following Siskel's death from brain cancer on January 20, 1999, that despite early hatred, Siskel had become his "best friend." The rivalry, detailed in Matt Singer's 2023 biography : When Movies Mattered, underscores how personal antagonism fueled substantive discourse, though it occasionally spilled into unprofessional conduct, such as Ebert's alleged efforts to block Siskel's solo projects. Ebert also exchanged pointed criticisms with Rex Reed, a New York-based reviewer known for acerbic commentary, particularly over festival coverage and industry practices. In 2012, Reed derided the as overly commercialized, prompting Ebert to publicly defend the event and refute Reed's unsubstantiated claims about Oscar voting irregularities, securing a denial from officials. Such disputes highlighted stylistic clashes—Ebert's accessible, audience-oriented approach versus Reed's elitist barbs—but lacked the sustained personal intensity of the Siskel rivalry. While Ebert admired Pauline Kael's influence on American film discourse, their critical philosophies diverged sharply, with Ebert critiquing her contrarian tendencies and personal biases in reviews, as seen in his 2012 reflection on her work favoring visceral reaction over objective analysis. Kael, in turn, dismissed structured criticism like Ebert's thumbs-up system as simplistic, yet no overt personal feud emerged; their exchanges remained intellectual rather than adversarial.

Conflicts with Filmmakers and Entertainers

Ebert's critique of Vincent Gallo's at the , labeling it "the worst movie in the history of the " due to its perceived lack of narrative coherence and excessive runtime, elicited a vitriolic response from Gallo, who called Ebert a "fat pig," accused him of being "sexually inadequate," and vowed to eat a foot of his own excrement on camera if Ebert recanted. Gallo further claimed to have hexed Ebert, predicting his early death from health complications. After Gallo recut the film by approximately 26 minutes for its U.S. release, Ebert revised his assessment, granting it three stars and praising its improved focus on themes of grief and loss, though Gallo disputed the extent of the changes and maintained his animosity. In his review of Rob Schneider's Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo (2005), Ebert declared, "Speaking in my official capacity as a winner, Mr. Schneider, your movie sucks," condemning its crude humor and lack of originality while defending fellow critic Patrick Goldstein against Schneider's prior mockery of awards processes. Schneider retaliated by labeling Ebert and other critics as elitist and irrelevant, escalating the exchange into personal barbs. The rift appeared to mend in 2012 when Schneider, aware of Ebert's ongoing battle with , sent flowers and a conciliatory note expressing well-wishes, a gesture Ebert publicly acknowledged without altering his original verdict. Quentin Tarantino publicly challenged Ebert's assertion that he lacked acting talent, particularly in reference to his performance in (1992), accusing the critic of inconsistency for praising Tarantino's on-screen presence elsewhere while advising him against pursuing acting. This confrontation highlighted tensions over Ebert's boundaries between evaluating a director's versus performative skills, though it did not escalate into prolonged acrimony. Ebert's 2011 tweet following the fatal car crash of Jackass stunt performer —"Friends don't let friends drink and drive"—provoked backlash from Dunn's collaborator , who deemed it insensitive amid grief and called Ebert a "piece of s***." Ebert later expressed regret for the phrasing's timing on his blog but upheld the underlying message against impaired driving, citing Dunn's reported blood alcohol level exceeding legal limits at the time of the accident on June 20, 2011.

Backlash Over Specific Reviews and Opinions

Ebert's assertion that video games could never qualify as drew significant backlash from , developers, and cultural commentators. In a July 1, 2010, blog post, he argued that inherently precluded artistic authorship, as the player's choices disrupted the creator's singular vision, contrasting this with film's passive spectatorship. This view, rooted in his belief that requires empathetic emotional response without audience agency, ignited debates framing Ebert as elitist and dismissive of evolving media forms. Industry figures and online communities countered that games like evoked profound aesthetic and narrative depth, accusing Ebert of outdated gatekeeping. Ebert reiterated his position in subsequent writings but, by April 2011, regretted the public statement, noting it polarized discourse unnecessarily while affirming his private conviction. Another flashpoint arose from Ebert's October 2008 review of the independent film Tru Loved, which he assessed after viewing only its opening eight minutes, awarding it one star for perceived technical ineptitude, including shaky camerawork and incoherent editing. He justified the partial viewing by claiming the flaws were evident early enough to deem the project fundamentally incompetent, a stance he likened to abandoning untenable works in other arts. This disclosure provoked outrage from fellow critics, independent filmmakers, and ethics watchdogs, who condemned it as irresponsible and prejudicial against resource-strapped productions, potentially eroding public trust in professional reviewing. Detractors argued that ethical standards demanded full engagement or explicit disclosure without rating, viewing Ebert's approach as emblematic of mainstream critics' detachment from indie struggles. Ebert's contrarian praise for Crash (2004) also fueled contention amid broader disdain for the film. Despite its Best Picture Oscar win on March 5, 2006, Crash faced near-universal scorn for contrived racial vignettes and moral posturing; Ebert, however, granted it four stars in May 2005 and retrospectively named it 2005's top film, valuing its unflinching interpersonal dynamics over subtlety. This outlier endorsement drew implicit pushback in critical circles, with some portraying Ebert as for overlooking the script's manipulations, though direct attacks on him were tempered by his stature. Such episodes highlighted tensions between Ebert's intuitive, experience-driven judgments and demands for methodological rigor, often amplifying divides in film discourse.

Death and Enduring Legacy

Final Years, Illness, and Passing (2013)

Ebert's health, compromised since his 2002 diagnosis with and subsequent salivary gland cancer, deteriorated further in the early due to metastatic complications. In December 2012, he suffered a linked to cancer spread to his bones, exacerbating mobility issues that already prevented him from sitting upright or climbing stairs without assistance. Despite these challenges, Ebert maintained a rigorous output, authoring 306 film reviews in 2012 alone, alongside weekly blog entries and additional articles on his website. Complications from 2006 reconstructive surgeries had already rendered Ebert unable to speak or consume solid food, relying on a and computer-generated voice for communication. He adapted by typing reviews and personal essays, often sharing candid reflections on mortality and his condition, which garnered widespread attention for their resilience. On April 2, 2013, Ebert announced a "leave of presence" from public activities to address a cancer recurrence, stating he needed to slow his pace after decades of intense work. He died two days later, on April 4, 2013, at age 70 in a hospital, shortly before planned transfer; no immediate cause was specified beyond his long-term cancer battle.

Institutional Impacts and RogerEbert.com Continuation

Ebert's contributions elevated within journalistic and cultural institutions. In 1975, he became the first film critic to win the for Distinguished Criticism, validating movie reviewing as a serious field meriting the award's highest recognition in criticism categories. This precedent influenced subsequent Pulitzers for film work, institutionalizing its status alongside literature and arts commentary. In 2004, Ebert received the inaugural star awarded to a film critic, symbolizing mainstream acknowledgment of the profession's cultural weight. Following his death, initiatives perpetuated his institutional influence. In June 2013, the established the Roger Ebert Scholarship for Film Criticism, providing financial support and training to emerging critics attending the institute's programs, with the aim of fostering diverse voices in line with Ebert's advocacy for independent and foreign cinema. His archived reviews and writings continue to serve as educational resources in programs, contributing to academic curricula on and . RogerEbert.com, originally launched by Ebert in 2000 as an extension of his column, persisted and evolved after his April 4, 2013, passing. On April 5, 2013—just one day before his death—Ebert announced the site's relaunch under Ebert Digital, a new entity he formed with his wife and business associates, separating it from prior syndication dependencies to ensure independent operation. assumed oversight as publisher, directing content that upholds Ebert's emphasis on thoughtful, audience-oriented reviews while expanding to include guest essays, podcasts, and festivals. The platform has maintained continuity through a rotating staff of critics, including Brian Tallerico as lead reviewer, who was mentored by Ebert and focuses on narrative-driven evaluations. By 2023, marking the tenth anniversary of Ebert's death, the site reported sustained readership and hosted events like the , preserving his legacy of democratizing beyond elite circles. This structure has allowed to adapt to digital shifts, such as streaming era coverage, without diluting Ebert's core standards of clarity and evidence-based judgment.

Balanced Assessment of Achievements and Shortcomings

Roger Ebert's primary achievement lay in popularizing for a broad American audience through his television partnership with , beginning with [Sneak Previews](/page/Sneak Previews) in 1975, which evolved into Siskel & Ebert and reached millions via syndication, thereby elevating the discourse on cinema from niche publications to mainstream entertainment. This format, characterized by accessible thumbs-up/thumbs-down verdicts, democratized evaluation of films, influencing public viewing choices and outcomes for titles like (1980), which Ebert praised early and saw win Best Picture. His written reviews for the , spanning 1967 to 2013, amassed over 10,000 pieces, including the influential series compiling essays on canonical works, fostering greater appreciation for film as an art form comparable to literature or . Ebert's 1975 Pulitzer Prize for Distinguished Criticism marked him as the first film critic so honored, recognizing his incisive prose and cultural commentary that extended beyond plot summaries to , as in his endorsement of video games' potential as in 2010, challenging prevailing dismissals. He received a star on the in 2005, the only for a film critic, underscoring his singular role in bridging and pop culture. These feats stemmed from his prolific output—authoring over 15 books—and early adoption of digital platforms, where his blog drew millions of readers, sustaining relevance amid evolving media. Yet Ebert's approach drew shortcomings, notably in oversimplifying complex aesthetic judgments via binary ratings, which critics argued eroded nuanced by prioritizing value over rigorous analysis, contributing to a perceived decline in film criticism's intellectual depth post-1980s. His reviews occasionally betrayed personal biases, as in the one-star dismissal of Blue Velvet (1986) for its , contra widespread acclaim for David Lynch's stylistic innovation, revealing a preference for narrative coherence over experimental form. Similarly, zero-star pans of films like (1979) and (1995) prioritized moral or logical objections—deeming the former "sickening trash" and the latter contrived—over artistic merits others valued, suggesting inconsistencies in applying standards across genres. Ebert's self-promotion, including expanding his brand into merchandise and festivals, risked conflating personal with critical objectivity, potentially amplifying echo-chamber effects where validation shaped tastes more than independent evaluation. Post-cancer in 2006, his reliance on text-only output limited real-time engagement, though his endurance—reviewing until days before in 2013—highlighted resilience amid evident physical decline. Overall, while Ebert expanded cinema's reach, his populist methodology invited valid critique for favoring accessibility over the probing depth demanded by film's multifaceted nature.

Awards, Honors, and Published Works

Ebert received the Pulitzer Prize for Distinguished Criticism in 1975, becoming the first film critic to win in that category. He was awarded a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2005, the first for a film critic. The Writers Guild of America presented him with a Lifetime Achievement Award, recognizing his contributions to screenwriting and criticism. He earned honorary degrees from the American Film Institute and the University of Colorado at Boulder. In 1979, Ebert won a Chicago/Midwest Emmy for Sneak Previews. His television work received multiple Emmy nominations, including for Outstanding Informational Series in 1997, 1994, and 1992. The Directors Guild of America honored him in 2009 for his impact on film appreciation. Posthumously, the University of Illinois granted him the Lifetime Achievement Award in Journalism in 2014. Ebert authored over 15 books on film, including annual editions of Roger Ebert's Movie Yearbook starting in the 1970s, which compiled reviews and essays. Key works include Behind the Phantom's Mask (1969), an early study of the 1925 The Phantom of the Opera; I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie (1994), collecting negative reviews; and Awake in the Dark: The Best of Roger Ebert (2006), a selection of his columns. His The Great Movies series began with the first volume in 2002, followed by II (2005) and III (2010), featuring essays on canonical films. Life Itself: A Memoir (2011) detailed his career, health struggles, and personal life. Additional titles encompass Two Weeks in the Midday Sun (1987), on the , and Roger Ebert's Book of Film (1997), an encyclopedia of cinema terms and history. Ebert's writings extended to thousands of newspaper columns for the from 1967 until his death, plus online essays on .

References

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