Roger Ebert, R.I.P.

Since 2000, when I moved to the U.S., I’ve read more words by Roger Ebert than by anyone else. Much of what he wrote is online, gratis. Just yesterday I was reading some of his reviews from the 1970s and ’80s.

He wasn’t the first movie critic whom I read extensively — that was Pauline Kael, who was more ruthless and precise. Ebert was more prolific and more humane. He was glad to review stuff that was unambitious, and, more important, he appreciated what was morally interesting about a lot of that stuff. (Example: Blue Crush.) In general, he judged the unambitious stuff more insightfully than he judged the ambitious stuff.

Not that he didn’t appreciate the ambitious stuff. His “Great Movies” series was useful to me when I was beginning to learn about ambitious movies. Some of those reviews explain subtext. (Examples: The Big Heat … Walkabout.) Others recount production history. (Example: Beat the Devil (a not-so-ambitious movie).)

He wrote warmhearted profiles of some great actors: Robert Mitchum … John Wayne.

Near the end, when he could no longer speak, he wrote some lovely personal reflections. Two of my favorites happen to be about not drinking and not eating: abstinence by prudential necessity and by incapacity. Doing without the drink and the food wasn’t so difficult for Ebert. What he really missed was the companionship.