Watched: Life Itself (2014).
The more I think about it, the more I realise that Roger Ebert played a huge part in my movie education. It wasn’t any particular review, I don’t think, but more a question of attitude; Ebert was a man who made no secret of the fact that he loved movies, especially when they had something to say, or managed in some small way to put us into the shoes of another. When I really think about it, that kind of metric had a profound effect on me growing up, and was probably why I spent most of my time as a teenager in the cinema.
The documentary, then: it’s unflinching in the way that it simultaneously documents Ebert’s illness and looks back on his life, and takes great care not to idolize him. Martin Scorcese has some choice, mostly unflattering words about Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls, and almost as much screentime is given to footage of Gene Siskel, Ebert’s arch-rival (and friend, sometimes) at the Chicago Tribune. But at the same time, it’s a commemoration of a life spent basking in a medium that’s too often surrounded by cynicism and black holes of media speculation.