Special Rumbles: Lessons From Roger Ebert (1942-2013)

Despite yesterday's news regarding his health, there was no part of me that was in any way prepared for writing up several thoughts regarding the importance of one Roger Ebert in my social, and written life. To be completely fair, noone is truly prepared for such a thing. But to give a complete charting of just how important one person's views can be toward so many angles of another's life, it is also something possibly foolhardy to consider. But what I can best deliver in a timely, and hopefully raw fashion, is to keep beacons glowing in the name of what makes criticism so important to not merely film, but to human culture as a whole. Much like how achaeologists derive theory from findings and disparate elements available, there is a deep importance toward our collective ability to see beyond mere positives and negatives. To dole out how something makes us feel, rather than merely take in everything at face value wthout second thought, or future evaluation. And there were fewer voices available to so many of us in the broadcast age with such a reverence for the unusual, and the accessible than Ebert, a man who's very presence on television or in print, exuded a yearning to understand not only an evolving artform, but a rapidly morphing world.


Growing up a remarkably addicted child of movies, Ebert's views on At The Movies remained an integral part of my weekend viewing diet. To be in my presence throughout a majority of the late 1980s meant that this ritual was an expected norm. And it wasn't merely because of access to clips of the latest releases, and whether or not they received a thumbs up or down, but rather my focus was largely on how both Gene Siskel & Ebert went from gentle confirmation to outright verbal blitzkrieg in mere minutes, and still retain a fair amount of sympatico by the end of each episode. And despite the often whispered revelation that the duo in fact didn't get along well outside the theater for a time, it was endlessly exciting to see such worldviews interconnect with such energy from their reaction to something as commonly seen as diversion as film. They spoke a mature form of a language I long wanted to be able to grasp, even as I grappled with the often humiliating trial known as grade school.


Moreso than any other televised movie critic, there was an inherent relatability to the way Ebert examined movies that told me, "I could do that". In fact, I vividly remember recording my first movie review "podcast" with my best friend by way of cassette tape, capturing our reviews of movies like Robocop & Rocky IV. This went even further come the early 1990s, when a good high school friend of mine fand I wrote a "He Said, She Said" column for our local newspaper's experimental "youth" section. Sharing impressions was a major part of what drove me to write, and perhaps it seemed inevitable that japanese cartoons would eventually follow. It wasn't enough for me to merely watch something and forget about it in preparation for the next life trial, it was vital that I take it down somewhere, or talk it out with a fellow weirdo. Discourse was on the brain from a very early point, and Ebert was unquestionably a large part of why.



And as I mentioned, growing up the only kid in a nearly 40-mile radius who was halfway interested in cartoons from across the ocean, as well as weird movies from other parts of the world, it was great to have someone on TV with the openness & enthusiasm he did. Whether it be his surprising segment on AKIRA, or opening up about Miyazaki's works, it was strengthening to see someone in the grand sphere talking about something so many were so quick to write off in those days. In fact when they happened (which was not at all often), it was this brief moment of relief that came over me. A reminder that I had indeed run into something that spoke to far more than a small niche of strange kids/adults, and that it was something worthy of merit on a world's stage. A confirmation that art could be found just about anywhere as long as one is taking that extra moment to look.



Among the more important lessons I took away from him being such a presence in my life, was that articulation was vital toward greater connection between very different types.  That it wasn't enough to merely say your piece, and abandon room for further discussion. Walls were malleable and filled with gaps and curves which can shift and bend based on shared experience. That the wheel must continue to turn in the name of a healthier ecosystem. And while differences are an inevitability, they are also what make us so valuable to others. Enthusiasm for art, idea & expression flowed naturally through him, and it was infectious, especially when meeting new people who shared a similar affinity for the language.



And to be even more on the even side, it wasn't as if I agreed with his views all the time. In fact, a there were multiple instances where I simply didn't understand where he was coming from with many films that have since become important in the eyes of the public. For instance, I have never, and likely will never understand his evisceration of Blue Velvet (1986). But perhaps therein lies the greatest lesson; that critique of any kind is less about the object being reviewed, and often more about the person doing the review, and the others they are reaching out to. It's continued communication in celebration of something shared, also made by human hands. There is something inherently natural about reacting to the world, and examining the results on an individualistic basis. Just as no two people will see the same sunset in the same way, there is something important about the ability to take a human work, and derive a nebula of thought.It is within this important activity that our futures are founded, and universes are rendered endless.


But another really important thing I learned by way of watching and reading him, was that I didn't have to agree with a person's assessments, and maintain respect. That it was indeed possible to trade barbed differences upon anything, and still seek to understand the other person, which should be one of our greater goals as a species. Ebert saw human civilization as a triumph, and there is no triumph without regard to the past, and at its most primal -- that is the cinema's greatest gift to all of us.


That is what I'd like to believe anyway.

Behind Older Lenses: Considering Previous Norms

 Ever wonder why it is many people tend to find themselves disconnected with a creative work that features ideas that do not gel with them on a societal level? Something that often intrigues me about even cult media, is its acceptance or denial by those who claim to be that much more well-rounded in their manner of discourse. It's like this wall that they've run against that is simply too high to even be bothered with it. That's the nature of subjectivity. But this isn't a post centered on say the current state of certain mediums. In no way are we talking about some of the more skeevy pander material either. In this case, I speak largely of works of the past that are capable of carrying what were even considered social norms of another era. From gender roles, to social habits. It turns out that upon spending more time to reading the blogs of contemporaries, or even listening to podcasts, there is at times an expressed deep urge to dismiss certain works because they either engender a world purview that doesn't jibe well with them, or makes the work seem regressive in thematic nature.

Take for example, my most recent post at Anime Diet... Some new thoughts regarding Wicked City (1987). It's a film that continues to burst with 1980s Japanese thoughts on sexuality, relationships, with a little extra grafted on to its dark fantasy milieu. The lead character starts the film as something of a playboy type, making bets on who gets to bed an attractive lady. It's an opening that many seem to take for granted, or at least seem to forget about because the scene following this is infamous for presenting one of the most terrifying visions of the female gender ever captured on celluloid. Skip to later though the film, we are then offered a vision of this man, inevitably settling down with someone who could more than capably be his equal, and yet the angle hovers very closely toward making this strong-hearted, independent character into something of a domesticized creature. And while Wicked City never spells out a complete transformation, it could very easily be construed that throughout the often terrible humiliation she goes through, that the narrative is something of a molding process. Adding the fact that she is of another race from a dimension dubbed, The Black World, there are some mildly intermingled messages happening here. And while it can also be considered, she retains a good amount of her own special nature come the finale, the finale takes its last moments of focus back to the male lead, who's role has been transformed from slick, tough guy lothario, to stone-jawed breadwinner. As expressed throughout the existence of Through Older Lenses, it is in many ways less a review series concerning older titles, but rather a way of looking back at something that might have had different meaning at one point in time/outlook, and coming up with new things to consider. It would be much easier to merely dismiss a work for some of a certain work's undertones, but some might also carry some hidden heft, some tiny hint of a more contemporary world view just scratching at the surface. Even if much of said film's views on male/female relationships seems dated, and perhaps even a bit sexist, it is also important to consider the time in which a work was made, and the audience it was specifically made for, where their minds were at this specific point. A bubble era, mostly male-driven society is not going to be the best place for any full barrage of progressive ideas, regardless of the industry's often impressively left-wing nature in those days. A production would grant some here, and lose some there. One has to appease sponsors and general audiences somewhere.

So when we look at other films of the era, like even John McTiernan's Die Hard(1988), and the dynamics regarding the marriage between the estranged McClane's, one can also see such notions snapping hard back toward the status-quo. One can still enjoy that film as the influential action spectacle that it is, but the subtext regarding Holly's gift Rolex remains more than a little suspect. For those partaking in the general discourse, it is perfectly fine to dub a work as something qualitatively strong or weak, but the layers past this are equally, if not more substantial.

But does this make a work worth dismissing outright? If art is the place where certain conversations, debates, and declarations can be made manifest in ways beyond the word, then isn't it important that those who comment either do so to further the discussion, or for those who make to respond in kind? If a work is able to successfully convey a hypothesis, or a political viewpoint, or even social norms, it is our role as those who are hosts to them to either confirm or deny them. It isn't enough that it didn't lose our attention, and more that we see where the author(s) involved were attempting to go with their project. Now this doesn't mean that works cannot disconnect, or even offend on an individual level. There are some creations where the lack of insight, or education, sensitivity, or whatever simply will not work with a person's internal worldview. So this is not so much about that manner of discord, so much as about bigger thoughts that concur with the mainstream of a specific era. If it succeeds in getting its ideas across, that is success on a level, but to be able to see how it connects to the population at large might be worth considering too.

Any form of expression is borne from the moment. It's a snapshot of a given time, place, or thought. And like any form of communication, the key invitation is for us to listen and consider. We're capable of doing much more than what a history textbook has ever done. And if this is all a matter of study, perhaps true discourse is about the consideration, and questions that follow.