Scan barcode
808jake_'s review
5.0
Maybe the newswriter that has had the most influence on me as a writer and as a person. (Then again, what pop culture writer/movie critic of a certain age didn’t grow up in Ebert’s shadow?)
This collection is some of the most humane and wonderful writing about film you’ll ever read.
This collection is some of the most humane and wonderful writing about film you’ll ever read.
litdreamer's review against another edition
5.0
Here, now, is the last collection of Great Movie reviews, written by Roger Ebert before his death in 2013. Like the last set, this one also includes no photos of the films inside (which volumes I and II provided) -- a shame, since the reviews on his website each include a color photo. One wonders if there were legal or logistical reasons for not including them in this book.
No matter. The main thing is the reviews themselves, and they are up to the same exalted level as his previous volumes, if shorter than the other three (Ebert finished only sixty-two reviews between volume III and his death, while the other three books include one hundred reviews apiece). As Matt Zoller Seitz, editor-in-chief of rogerebert.com, writes in his foreword, "...The Great Movies series [are] Roger's masterpiece." (x)
Should other writers have contributed to this volume in order to include an even hundred reviews? I don't think so, and neither does his widow Chaz, who writes the following in her introduction: "It was suggested that perhaps we could get pieces written by others to round out the edition, but in my heart of hearts I wanted to keep his series pure." (xviii) Exactly right. Chaz also highlights the one review that needs to be highlighted in this collection: for The Ballad of Narayama, the last Great Movie review he wrote. The film is about a village that leaves its elders on the side of a mountain when they reach the age of 70. Roger Ebert was 70 when he wrote the review; and he was 70 when he died. I often wondered if this final volume, if it materialized (for it was only published at the end of last year), would include that entry as its last one. Instead, it's listed alphabetically, like all previous volumes, but Chaz's highlighting of it serves the same purpose. Instead, the last essay in this volume is for Yellow Submarine, which seems oddly appropriate.
The foreword and introduction are followed by snippets from Roger's intros to The Great Movies I-III before launching into his review for 25th Hour. The reviews stretch from the silent era (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) to the very recent (Departures). What I admire about these essays is not only the humanity through which Ebert views these films, but also the fact that, even though they may be great films, he isn't above criticizing their less-than-great aspects, while pointing out what makes them have staying power.
His greatest gift, however, is the personal touch he brings to each review. While reading them, I've always felt like I'm watching the movie with him, and I've made it a point, after watching one of the movies listed in this and previous volumes, of reading (or re-reading) his take on it, to see if I missed anything.
Now, I was lucky enough to meet Roger Ebert once at Ebertfest. He knew who I was because he'd read some of my blog posts. I knew who he was because he was Roger Ebert. As he shook my hand, I was surprised at how strong his grip was, coming from this frail-looking man who no longer had use of his voice and walked with a shuffle. His grip may have lessened in the years since his death, but the power of his words have not. We are lucky that he left us as much writing as he did, for there will never be another Roger Ebert.
No matter. The main thing is the reviews themselves, and they are up to the same exalted level as his previous volumes, if shorter than the other three (Ebert finished only sixty-two reviews between volume III and his death, while the other three books include one hundred reviews apiece). As Matt Zoller Seitz, editor-in-chief of rogerebert.com, writes in his foreword, "...The Great Movies series [are] Roger's masterpiece." (x)
Should other writers have contributed to this volume in order to include an even hundred reviews? I don't think so, and neither does his widow Chaz, who writes the following in her introduction: "It was suggested that perhaps we could get pieces written by others to round out the edition, but in my heart of hearts I wanted to keep his series pure." (xviii) Exactly right. Chaz also highlights the one review that needs to be highlighted in this collection: for The Ballad of Narayama, the last Great Movie review he wrote. The film is about a village that leaves its elders on the side of a mountain when they reach the age of 70. Roger Ebert was 70 when he wrote the review; and he was 70 when he died. I often wondered if this final volume, if it materialized (for it was only published at the end of last year), would include that entry as its last one. Instead, it's listed alphabetically, like all previous volumes, but Chaz's highlighting of it serves the same purpose. Instead, the last essay in this volume is for Yellow Submarine, which seems oddly appropriate.
The foreword and introduction are followed by snippets from Roger's intros to The Great Movies I-III before launching into his review for 25th Hour. The reviews stretch from the silent era (The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) to the very recent (Departures). What I admire about these essays is not only the humanity through which Ebert views these films, but also the fact that, even though they may be great films, he isn't above criticizing their less-than-great aspects, while pointing out what makes them have staying power.
His greatest gift, however, is the personal touch he brings to each review. While reading them, I've always felt like I'm watching the movie with him, and I've made it a point, after watching one of the movies listed in this and previous volumes, of reading (or re-reading) his take on it, to see if I missed anything.
Now, I was lucky enough to meet Roger Ebert once at Ebertfest. He knew who I was because he'd read some of my blog posts. I knew who he was because he was Roger Ebert. As he shook my hand, I was surprised at how strong his grip was, coming from this frail-looking man who no longer had use of his voice and walked with a shuffle. His grip may have lessened in the years since his death, but the power of his words have not. We are lucky that he left us as much writing as he did, for there will never be another Roger Ebert.
More...