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A review by pbraue13
Opposable Thumbs: How Siskel & Ebert Changed Movies Forever by Matt Singer
funny
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.0
“We don’t agree on anything, but we’re both passionate about movies.” — Gene Siskel
“It’s not what a movie is about, it’s how it is about it.” — Roger Ebert
Read in honor of Roger Ebert’s 83rd birthday, Matt Singer’s “Opposable Thumbs” is a fitting tribute to two giants of film criticism—Ebert and his famously combative counterpart Gene Siskel. With wit, warmth, and an undeniable love of cinema, Singer explores not only the rise of “Siskel & Ebert” as a pop culture phenomenon, but also the deeper currents of respect, rivalry, and responsibility that fueled their partnership.
This book is a goldmine for fans of film criticism and film in general. Singer expertly traces the evolution of both critics—from their early days in rival Chicago newspapers to their ascent as unlikely TV stars, bringing the art of film discourse to mainstream audiences. He captures their personalities, their clashes (both hilarious and poignant), and above all, their shared belief that movies matter.
Through behind-the-scenes stories, archival research, and careful narrative balance, “Opposable Thumbs” offers a moving portrait of two men who shaped how generations engaged with cinema. For those of us who grew up watching them debate everything from “Do the Right Thing” to “Garbage Pail Kids”, the book is not only nostalgic but also surprisingly emotional.
One can’t help but wonder what Siskel and Ebert would make of the status of film today—where streaming algorithms, content saturation, and online discourse have transformed how movies are made and talked about. Would they embrace Letterboxd? Fight over Marvel fatigue? Champion indie gems? Probably all of the above—but they would, undoubtedly, keep talking, keep arguing, and keep caring.
In the end, that’s what “Opposable Thumbs” celebrates most: the passionate, often messy love of movies, and the power of disagreement to enrich our understanding of them. On Ebert’s birthday, there’s no better way to honor his legacy than by diving into this heartfelt chronicle of two critics who taught us that it’s okay to fight about art—as long as you mean it.
Read in honor of Roger Ebert’s 83rd birthday, Matt Singer’s “Opposable Thumbs” is a fitting tribute to two giants of film criticism—Ebert and his famously combative counterpart Gene Siskel. With wit, warmth, and an undeniable love of cinema, Singer explores not only the rise of “Siskel & Ebert” as a pop culture phenomenon, but also the deeper currents of respect, rivalry, and responsibility that fueled their partnership.
This book is a goldmine for fans of film criticism and film in general. Singer expertly traces the evolution of both critics—from their early days in rival Chicago newspapers to their ascent as unlikely TV stars, bringing the art of film discourse to mainstream audiences. He captures their personalities, their clashes (both hilarious and poignant), and above all, their shared belief that movies matter.
Through behind-the-scenes stories, archival research, and careful narrative balance, “Opposable Thumbs” offers a moving portrait of two men who shaped how generations engaged with cinema. For those of us who grew up watching them debate everything from “Do the Right Thing” to “Garbage Pail Kids”, the book is not only nostalgic but also surprisingly emotional.
One can’t help but wonder what Siskel and Ebert would make of the status of film today—where streaming algorithms, content saturation, and online discourse have transformed how movies are made and talked about. Would they embrace Letterboxd? Fight over Marvel fatigue? Champion indie gems? Probably all of the above—but they would, undoubtedly, keep talking, keep arguing, and keep caring.
In the end, that’s what “Opposable Thumbs” celebrates most: the passionate, often messy love of movies, and the power of disagreement to enrich our understanding of them. On Ebert’s birthday, there’s no better way to honor his legacy than by diving into this heartfelt chronicle of two critics who taught us that it’s okay to fight about art—as long as you mean it.