"Life Itself" (2014)

My true film education didn’t begin in earnest until rather late in my junior year of college. I had watched films with some frequency but I was aloof and uncritical. That year I began writing, seriously and extensively, and filling in gaps in my knowledge and realizing just how little I actually knew. I also arrived late at the writing of Chicago Sun-Times film critic Roger Ebert. I was cynical, but once rogerebert.com was formed I caught up on his work and was drawn in by the precision and generosity of his writing, like so many before me were. I now can’t get enough of his writing. I was only just getting into his work when Ebert passed away. I’m sure this is rambly, unnecessary and slightly incoherent, but it’s what crossed my mind as I watched the moving Steve James documentary about Ebert’s life. Life Itself is the sort of film that initiates those kinds of personal reflections as you watch it -- about film, about writing, and about life more generally, and that goes doubly so for anyone passionate about or interested in film.

Life Itself is based on Ebert’s memoir of the same name – passages of which are read by a voice actor passably recreating Ebert’s distinctive Midwestern drawl. The film begins with one of my favorite statements from the writer: “For me, the movies are like a machine that generates empathy. It lets you understand a little bit more about different hopes, aspirations, dreams, and fears. It helps us identify with the people who are sharing this journey with us.” Life Itself is not only empathetic but sympathetic towards its subject. It is affectionate towards and fond of Ebert, but it also never tries to paint him as anything less than human. He was, in the words of one friend, “nice, but not that nice”. He had terrible taste in women prior to meeting his wife Chaz in his early fifties -- the film understandably dedicates a significant amount of time to their relationship – and had an unhealthy obsession with buxom women that led him to briefly write films with skin flick director Russ Meyer. He struggled with alcoholism (We learn that he met his wife at AA; a fact she admits for the first time publically). He could also be quite arrogant and had an incredibly high opinion of himself. This could best be seen in his contentious relationship with fellow critic Gene Siskel, whom he co-hosted the television program Sneak Previews and later At the Movies. 

The film features standard documentary filmmaking on the whole: talking heads are interspersed with old footage and photos. The film’s most remarkable, powerful element was driven by outside circumstances. The film began production prior to Ebert’s death. Ebert insisted James film his time in the hospital leading up to his passing. Ebert tells James at one point, “This is not only your film”, and he helps provide such great, unexpected moments as his G-tube being suctioned out (disgusting but also kind of wonderful). Wearily but understandingly James responds, “It makes for a better story”. And that really is the case, as it turns a solid but familiar biopic into something more resonant and poignant. James cuts back and forth between the past and the present, and the worn down but still vibrant Ebert lying in a hospital bed colors so much of the largely chronological discussion of his life. Friends, colleagues and filmmakers (many whose career he helped launch, including Martin Scorsese, Werner Herzog, Errol Morris, Ramin Bahrani, and Ava DuVernay) warmly re-call Ebert’s life and the film becomes a memorial or elegy. 

The warts-and-all of approach of the film, especially in Ebert’s earlier years, paints him as a good but flawed person. Ebert’s greatest legacy arrived in his final years as he was diagnosed with cancer that took his jaw and his voice. Ebert dug deeper into his writing, utilizing the internet to engage more directly with fans and film lovers. Ebert’s writing become ever more personal, precise and lean in these years and his illness instilled a greater sense of empathy in him. He did his best work during these years. Similarly, the further the film moves along the more generous it becomes. Even his staunchest critics, Richard Corliss and Jonathan Rosenbaum -- who feel Ebert and Siskel devalued criticism and oversimplified the process to a simple thumbs up or thumbs down system (something the film dismisses a little too quickly and easily) – have a deep respect for the man. 

The film is a loving tribute to an important public figure that was influential and meaningful to so many different people who loved watching, and writing and arguing about films. The film is a love story: between Ebert and his wife, between Ebert and Siskel, and between Ebert and film. Ebert used to like to say that a film isn’t about what it’s about but rather how it’s about it. James doesn’t try to earn gravitas or to gloss or gussy up the story. He shoots the film in a direct, reserved way that lets Ebert’s life speak for itself. The film is emotional (I cried at more than one point) but those emotions come from a sincere, inviting portrait of its subject. 

Throughout watching the film I kept thinking of what critic Nathan Rabin wrote from Sundance where the film first screened; Rabin wrote, “Life Itself is a film worthy of Ebert, and that is just about the highest praise it can possibly get.” 

Grade: B+